Ophieus felt his awareness returning back.
And then instantly recall those words at the end but his focus closed on one specific thing.
[Reward Pending…]
He had some thought about that and also the other words that showed up as well. But filed them temporarily and focused on the more immediate problem of his body taking a bit to respond.
A couple seconds passed and then he felt it.
Feeling began returning to his body like it had just reconnected. But even then it was taking a bit to respond and still felt distant like his limbs belonged to someone else. He began trying to inspect what was different and wrong. First he felt he wasn't on gravel or dirt but grass that made his body shiver.
And then when he opened his eyes.
He saw gray instead of a blue sky.
It wasn't fog or mist but like everything in the area had lost its color.
'Gray sky with no sun visible or familiar landmarks.' He ran through the standard location assessment automatically. 'Not the capital, town or city I have been in before… It looks like I might be in an unknown place in Hyzleth.'
He added this to the morning's list of problems and began standing up before pausing.
Ophieus instantly knew it felt wrong.
His body felt too light like he was a feather instead of something heavier. His gaze quickly dropped to his hands and immediately realized.
These weren't his hands.
That much was certain.
His hands had scars. Three on the right palm from a training accident when he was sixteen. A long one on the left forearm from a blade he didn't evade in time and the callus he gained over the years.
These hands had none of that. And then he wasn't wearing his familiar black armor but instead a black shirt and pants.
"Different body," Ophieus said out loud to confirm it, and noting the different voice.
His legion was in a burning capital. Someone from his unit had said we're still holding in present tense, which meant that was their current situation.
He wasn't there and that was the problem. But he had to understand this body first.
Which meant the delay was not optional.
Which meant—
He stopped that line of thinking before it finished.
But the frustration had risen quickly, and for a second. The image of his men dying sparked a pain inside of him. His fist clenched as an odd feeling surged through him but he suppressed it.
Deathless Warriors didn't lose themselves in frustration on active assignments. He didn't know why he lost a bit of control there but he can't lose focus now. He exhaled once through his nose. He needed to find out where he was and how far from the capital of Ruina.
Before heading over there, no matter what he will make it.
Ophieus glanced around the area before stopping as a light caught his eye in the grass. A black sword lay in the grass ahead of him which he picked up before he had consciously decided to.
The grip was familiar in a way that made no sense. And then he felt it, something inside of him clicking with this weapon. For a split second, everything seemed a bit slower as if his body was changing.
And then that feeling faded.
'Just like in the fog prison… What is that feeling?' Ophieus waved the black sword and felt lighter than before.
Then he turned the blade over and saw gold markings along the blade which spelled out Dark Animas. But the symbols were something he couldn't read and the style of engraving he did not recognize from anything in his memory.
It wasn't a Hyzleth blade, he was certain of this.
Deathless Warriors used a different design entirely and yet the grip felt like coming home. He raised the blade up, he caught his reflection in the steel and saw a tan face with white hair. In addition to golden eyes with diamond-shaped pupils that seemed to slightly glow.
He studied himself for a moment before he paused as he heard a cracking sound from behind him. He turned behind predicting an attack or enemy but instead saw the last thing he expected.
Graves.
There were dozens of them or maybe hundreds, spreading in every direction. There was no pattern or thought place in them, they were simply placed without thought like whoever put them here didn't care at all about organization.
Or they'd just given up completely.
Ophieus walked forward between them without hesitation and studied the first one.
Blank.
He raised a brow at this before moving to the next one and then the next one. But after the tenth one, he stopped and muttered. "So many graves but with no names…"
Ophieus crouched down and his fingers wiped away the dust before then pausing as he felt it.
Marks imprinted on the stone.
They were faint and nearly invisible but still there. He continued tracing and found that it was making out a word but had been removed for some reason.
"Someone erased them." Ophieus muttered. "To hide the count, most likely. Or the names specifically… which suggests the names carried more information than the deaths."
He then stood up before looking at the field of blank stones stretching endlessly. "No. The question should be how many were killed and are they still around the area? And did that sound before have something to do with it?"
It was then he felt a pressure hovering behind him like someone was standing behind him and waiting for him to acknowledge them.
He turned slowly.
The fog stood at the graveyard's edge. It didn't approach him or move past the edge, instead it stayed there like it couldn't come any closer. Yet he felt it, something inside of the fog was watching him but not coming out.
He looked at it for a moment.
Then turned away.
"Later."
Before he confronted that thing again. Yet no matter how much he looked, all of the graves were the same. All of them except for one which barely had some letters there which he couldn't make out.
He crouched and ran his finger across them but still couldn't make out the words. He muttered the two words before his chest tightened like something was gripping it.
Ophieus eyes narrowed as moved his hand to his chest but didn't say anything. He stayed crouched for three seconds longer than he needed to.
'The original owner knew this stone.' He didn't know how he knew that.
It wasn't a thought he had arrived at but it was just there, the same way he had known the sword's grip was familiar before he could explain why. Something in the body recognized the stone and responded before he could weigh in on the matter.
Then stood.
"I'll come back to that," he said.
He meant it as something to revisit when he had more information.
He was intrigued on why his will didn't suppress the feeling but instead let it flow through him. Especially since the body didn't release the feeling as quickly as he expected. He still felt his chest tighten when he passed one grave then another and then two more.
Before it finally eases.
Something in this body was grieving but it wasn't from him.
The feeling hadn't fully faded—
Then a silver box with text in it appeared.
[Synchronization: 5%]
[Memory Fragment Unlocked: "Failure"]