"The world is decaying… and you, Karl, are one of the last pieces still intact."
The voice echoed from the crystal orb resting atop the table, inside a ship gently swaying amidst a dense fog. The light from the orb flickered, catching Karl's eyes—calm, yet alert.
Arin stood silently beside him. Though she was the priestess's closest guardian, even she did not know what truths were about to be revealed.
"We are out of time," the voice continued, low and resolute. "Ever since you first saw those symbols in your dreams, a tether has been forged."
Karl narrowed his gaze. "A tether?"
"Yes. Not just through the dream—but through your blood. The same blood that once opened the Final Gate."
A gust of wind crept through the small window, flipping the map on the table and revealing a silver sigil—a spiral symbol, identical to the ones from Karl's visions.
"So… you're saying I was chosen?""No, Karl. You were summoned—long before you were ever born."
A hollow stillness spread through Karl's chest, as though the weight of time itself had pulled taut a single, fragile thread.
"If you hesitate, Enel will fall. But if you accept… step into this light."
The orb blazed brightly. Slowly, a face appeared—shrouded in a turquoise veil, eyes glowing crimson, piercing into Karl's soul.
Karl clenched his fist, the light from the orb still flickering in his eyes. The priestess's voice echoed—distant, yet strangely close.
"How much time do I have?" he asked, quietly.
"Not much.""Be specific.""To mortals… perhaps a few years. But to an ageless one like you—it will feel like the blink of an eye."
Silence fell.
Time had always felt vague to Karl. A year, a decade, a century—they blurred together, left no mark. But this… this felt real.
He could feel it coming.
"You'll begin to sense it… through dreams. Through the subtle shifts in nature. Through strange eyes watching you from the edges."
Karl's palm tightened, heat rising beneath his skin.
"And if I refuse?" he asked, voice low.
"Then we won't just lose Enel… we'll lose the last place humanity can still call home."
A cold breeze swept through. Outside the ship, the mist thickened—as if the world itself was holding its breath.
From beside him, Arin finally spoke, her voice calm but firm:
"You're not the only one who feels time collapsing in."
Karl turned to her. For the first time, their eyes met—without a wall between them.
Karl stared at the glowing orb, fists clenched.
"That's impossible… I sealed that gate. With my own hands. Two hundred years ago."
The priestess remained calm.
"You think you sealed it.""I did—""Karl."Her voice sliced through his memories like a blade."What you saw back then… was only part of the truth."
The orb flared with a blinding light. In an instant, Karl was no longer aboard the ship.
He was standing on a burning hill. Screams echoed. The clash of steel. Blood—so much blood.
He saw himself—his younger self—standing in the midst of chaos, sword dripping crimson. The gate was wide open—a massive tear in reality. From within… the Demon King emerged.
But what struck him wasn't the monster.It was the woman behind it.The priestess.She was… smiling?
The vision shifted. Now he saw himself pouring every ounce of his strength into sealing the rift. Blood spilled from his lips. The sky shattered.
"You fought bravely,"the priestess's voice echoed like thunder,"but you only sealed one passage. There are other gates… and others have opened them."
Karl stood frozen.
He had never seen the whole truth—until now.
Karl frowned, his gaze darkening. He took a step back, his voice dropping to a low tone:
— That's impossible... Then who could've done such a thing?
The priestess didn't answer immediately. Instead, she offered a gentle smile — calm, yet carrying a chilling undertone. Then, she spoke slowly:
— One of the Elder Demons... the very one you defeated during the final battle at the Ancient Gate.
Silence fell like a curtain. Karl clenched his fist, a chill creeping down his spine.
— No... I saw him fade. I saw—
— Fade, but not vanish, Karl. — The priestess interrupted, her voice soft as the midnight breeze — Some souls cannot be destroyed... only silenced, waiting for the time to rise again.
Flashback 200 Years Ago
Dark smoke coiled upward from the ashes, painting the sky a deep crimson. The land before the Ancient Gate was soaked in blood—of both soldiers and fiends. In the heart of the chaos, Karl stood tall, his cloak torn to shreds, his body soaked in blood—most of it not his own.
Before him stood the Elder Demon — a towering figure carved from obsidian, eyes burning with an infernal fire that refused to die.
— You… are the last one left? — Karl asked, voice low and cold as forged steel.
The Elder laughed, a guttural sound like grinding stone:
— You think… killing me ends it? You still know nothing of the Chaos, Karl. He is still there… waiting.
— He? — Karl's eyes narrowed, the gravity around him beginning to ripple — Who are you talking about?
— The one even your kind dares not name… He will rise again.
Without hesitation, Karl raised his hand. The air screamed, the earth cracked beneath the Elder's feet.
— I don't care who he is. You… will never see the dawn again.
In an instant, the Elder was crushed by an unseen weight, bones snapping, body collapsing into dust. There was no scream — only silence. The kind that swallows everything.
Karl stood still, watching as his foe turned to ash. But for a fleeting moment… he felt as though nothing had truly ended.
Karl jolted upright, as if yanked back from an old nightmare. His breath was heavy, sweat soaking the back of his shirt despite the still, cool air of the room.
The glow of the orb had faded. The priestess was gone, yet the echo of her words lingered in his mind like a distant thunderclap.
— No… — Karl whispered. — He was dead. I killed him with my own hands…
He stepped back, eyes darting around the room as if expecting something to emerge from the shadows. But there was nothing — only the soft breeze whispering through the window and the pounding of his own heart.
"Why now? After all these years…" Karl wondered. The sense of unease surged inside him, like a beast long forgotten but suddenly awakened.
Part of him wanted to walk away from it all. But the other part — the part that once stood on a battlefield of fire and blood two centuries ago — knew that running was no longer an option.
After the priestess's words, Karl remained silent for a long while. Inside him, a great wave had passed—not loud, but enough to shake the foundations he had believed unshakable for two centuries. He turned to Arin, his voice quiet:
"I need... a moment. There's too much I need to sort through."
Morning light streamed softly through the window, casting a pale glow over Karl's thoughtful face. Arin looked at him, as if she wanted to speak, but instead gave a small nod. No pressure—only understanding.
"I won't go far," Karl added, his eyes drifting toward the blue sky beyond. "I just... need a moment alone."
Without another word, he stepped off the ship. The morning breeze carried the scent of salt and sea, dancing through his silver hair as he quietly made his way down the stone path—a place where he could listen to his heartbeat, uninterrupted.
Karl walked slowly into the village of Valon, where the morning sunlight glimmered over wooden rooftops and the small market stalls just beginning to open. The air was filled with the aroma of baked bread and herbs, easing his mind ever so slightly. After all the cryptic dreams and looming dread, all he wanted now was something simple—a warm breakfast.
He stopped in front of a small eatery by the village square, with a few wooden tables set outside. The place had a humble name: "Little Flame". Laughter and the scent of cooking drifted from within, lightening the mood instantly.
As he stepped inside, a familiar voice called out:
"Wow, didn't expect to see you here!"
It was Aris—the lively girl Karl had met not long ago. Next to her sat a boy around ten, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.
"This is my little brother, Elan," Aris said, pulling out a chair for Karl. "He kept asking me to tell him more about you last night."
Elan stared at Karl and suddenly asked, "Is it true you've lived for over a hundred years? Did your teeth fall out?"
Aris burst out laughing, and Karl simply smiled. "Nope. And I still brush them every day."
Laughter spread across the table, washing away the haze that had hung in Karl's mind. He ordered a bowl of hot soup and fresh bread, and sat there—not as an ageless warrior, not as a keeper of ancient secrets—but simply as a man enjoying breakfast among ordinary people.
As breakfast wrapped up, Karl was just about to rise when Aris tilted her head, wearing a smile that hinted at a premeditated question.
"So, Karl, do you have any plans tonight?"
He raised an eyebrow and sipped the last of his tea. "Depends. If this is an invitation to a honey pie ambush, I might pass."
Aris laughed, nudging her younger brother who was busy trying to finish his bowl. "Of course not. I know better than to bribe you with sweets."
"At least not in the evening," Karl said, a glimmer of dry humor in his eyes.
"Well then… would you come over for dinner?" she asked, her tone now a touch more sincere. "I owe you a proper thank-you. And… my little brother has a few stories to share we didn't get to this morning."
Karl looked at her for a moment. Morning light poured through the window, casting a warm glow across her face. He gave a slight nod.
"Alright. As long as the main course doesn't come spiced with sleeping powder."
Aris burst out laughing, and her brother nearly choked on his porridge. In that fleeting moment, something shifted in the air—like the mist around Karl was slowly lifting. Maybe, just maybe, all he needed... was a peaceful dinner.