Long before the battle, before he met Shenric, before the birth of his daughter, Jinvar of the Shen Clan would wander alone through the Sunset Forests of the North, where trees would glow with pinks and reds.
But he was never meant to be there.
Members of the clans were not meant to leave their villages. They were not meant to question what lay beyond the borders, nor why those borders existed at all. A Shen Clan life followed a simple path: birth, schooling, work, death. There was no talk of energy, of war, of Lords. There was no need for such things.
Life was good.
The sun always shone above the mountains. There was always abundance. Any desire, any quiet longing, seemed destined to be fulfilled by time itself.
And yet, as Jinvar walked the forbidden forests again and again, a question began to take shape in his mind.
What if this world is not real?
The stars he saw at night. The histories taught in school. The wars that existed only in stories. Why did none of it leave a trace?
His teenage years were spent beneath rain-soaked branches, in wind-carved caverns, in long hours of silent contemplation. The more he questioned, the more cracks he saw.
He knew the Shen Clan. He knew the Ren Clan. He knew hundreds more. But where had they come from? What dynasties ruled them? What were these ancient wars that shaped history, and yet left no scars upon the land?
One morning, Jinvar reached a terrible conclusion.
The world around him had been manufactured. The people. The history. The joy and comfort. All of it was a carefully constructed deception.
But why?
That question eventually led him to Shenric. He learned of Axiom energy. He joined the Shadow Clans. They swore to sever their attachments to life itself, and to sacrifice everything for the truth.
And now, he was here.
For countless hours, Jinvar sat upon warm sand, gazing at a vast ocean. Aged trees gathered behind him, their leaves whispering in the breeze. But he knew it was false. He shattered the illusion, and he saw where he truly was.
"So it doesn't work on him?" a dark voice said.
The beach vanished.
Jinvar found himself bound within a dungeon chamber, his movements locked by an Imprisonment Technique. Before him stood a Second Tier Faceless Conjurer, his mask smooth and featureless.
"How are you resisting this illusion?" the Conjurer asked. "What are you hiding?"
Jinvar sensed others nearby, at least two Leaders. He knew that these were the Leaders of the Northern and Southern regions. He could not see them, but he felt their attention, cold and analytical. And behind then was someone else.
"Where is Shenric?" Jinvar asked.
"He is dead."
"And you plan to kill me too?"
"No," the Conjurer replied. "That is unnecessary. We restore our citizens. We cure them of insanity."
"You're not curing me of anything."
"Stage two."
Another figure stepped forward.
Jinvar's breath caught.
He recognized this one. He was certain of it.
"You're a Faceless Mentor," Jinvar said.
The attack began instantly.
Purple energy surged into his mind, plunging deep into his consciousness. Beliefs unravelled. Memories bent. Dreams were rewritten and redirected toward foreign ends.
Now he understood.
This was how the clans were shaped from childhood. This was how the lie endured.
But he was not finished.
"Incredible," the Northern Leader's voice murmured.
"He has resisted two Second Tier Beings."
"Does he possess a specialized Flow Technique?"
"No." said the third figure. "That isn't it."
Jinvar smiled.
"It's because I am Shenric's student," he said. "Even if I die, there will be others."
"You misunderstand," said the Southern Leader. "Our ally in the Western region has already eliminated most of your allies. Your Shadow Clans are fragile. Have you ever seen proof that more exist? Or did Shenric deceive you?"
Jinvar knew their true weapon. They would not kill him. They would remake him, until he loved the Lords more than his own parents, more than his own daughter.
It would end here.
"What's he doing?" the Conjurer shouted.
"Axiom detonation!"
"A suicide technique!"
This was the final teaching of the Shadow Clans. In the last moment, one could abandon the body and let their energy expand violently, enough to kill everything nearby. Even Second Tier Beings were not immune.
"This is my final act," Jinvar whispered. "Goodbye, Bethryl. Forgive me."
The world went black.
But there was no explosion.
Jinvar did not know that the dungeon itself had been an illusion.
"What a waste," the Southern Leader said.
"How could a First Tier do this?"
"Because of this." said the third figure.
A hand pressed against Jinvar's lifeless head. Red energy flared, revealing the remnants of his power. Something began to glow. An eye.
"The Eye of Sophia…"
The Leaders withdrew at once. The third figure stepped back, studying Jinvar's corpse.
"So there were others," he said. "That explains it. This Eye originates beyond your tiers. It allows even ordinary humans to pierce high-level illusions."
"A Third Tier ability?"
"Or Fourth. Or higher."
"But the Shadow Clans are weak. Why fear this spreading?"
"Because if millions awaken," the figure replied softly, "we cannot kill them all."
Silence fell.
"Tell me about the Eastern Leader," the figure said.
"He vanished after killing Shenric."
"What was he doing before that?"
"…He was fighting Shenric alone."
A pause.
"Then this was Shenric's plan," the figure said. "Not to win—but to pass on the Eye."
"To one of ours?"
"We know the effects it has on ordinary people. Imagine the effects it could have on a Soldier, who was personally trained by the Kings."
"He is a demon now."
"We are searching the Noctis Mountains."
"He won't hide," the figure replied. "I know him too well. He will take the risk. He will move through the forest, to the Highland, to the first of the Golden Cities. And he will not strike out erratically. By now, he is preparing his mind and his body. He will be in the forest."
"And when we find him?"
"I am the Grand Leader. I will deal with him personally."
A groan echoed nearby.
"He's alive?"
"No," the Grand Leader said, raising his Axiom blade. "Just the body."
The strike fell.
Miles away, Bethryl of the Shen Clan wandered through the Sunset Forest.
She paused.
Something had happened to her father. She felt it, something final, something severed. She did not question it.
But from that day onward, the world no longer looked the same.