Velmuth reappeared in his room with a silent ripple in space.
The candlelight flickered for a moment, disturbed by the subtle shift his presence caused. With a small gesture, he raised a hand and tore open a rift in the air, his personal dimensional storage.
Dozens of rare materials hovered inside, suspended in stasis: shimmering ores, arcane crystals, finely crafted accessories. But one item drew his attention.
It looked, at first glance, like a dull stone. Its surface was veiled beneath an intricate seal marked with ancient glyphs. Yet beneath it, something pulsed faintly. Like breath.
Velmuth narrowed his eyes.
"Something's off here."
Extending his hand, he activated Abyssal Perception, a unique sensory ability that allowed him to peer beyond surface reality, into threads of dreams, echoes of memory, and the residue of souls.
And then he felt it.
Hidden within the seal was a dormant remnant. A fragment of a Dream Beast, one of the corrupted beings born from the influence of the cosmic Dreamers. Even incomplete, it radiated a dreadful presence. If awakened, it could easily reduce villages to ash.
"A summoning relic," Velmuth muttered. "Or rather, a trap."
He didn't hesitate.
Void energy surged from his hand. The seal cracked and splintered under the pressure of his essence. A distant howl echoed from within the object, but it was too late.
Velmuth reached in and devoured the fragment, absorbing it into the endless abyss of his being.
Silence fell.
What remained was its true form, a medium-length sword of pitch-black metal, forged from a substance that consumed light. It shimmered faintly, as if alive. The color shifted with Velmuth's thoughts, and its power remained dormant, waiting for the hand of its rightful master.
"A sword, hm..."
He held it in his palm, testing the weight. It felt balanced. Familiar.
"This might prove useful, once I enter the academy."
Velmuth placed the blade beside him and sat on the edge of his bed. Moonlight poured through the open window, cold and serene.
"It's been fourteen years since I arrived in this world," he murmured. "And the more time I spend here, the more I understand why mortals struggle so hard to live, even while drowning in suffering."
He let out a quiet chuckle.
"To think I once wandered the infinite void with no purpose, and now I enjoy tea and books."
But the warmth in his eyes faded.
"If this relic contained a remnant, then there are others, still hidden. If even one awakens prematurely, history could repeat itself. Just like before the Rebirth, when the world was annihilated."
He stood, shadows deepening around him. His gaze gleamed faintly with otherworldly light.
"I won't let that happen again. If I'm to live this life comfortably, and with purpose, then I'll need agents."
He raised a hand.
A summoning circle expanded beneath him, inscribed with ancient void script. The air rippled and thickened as energy coalesced. Light shimmered on the floor, and then—
Six figures emerged.
They gasped softly as their eyes opened, as if waking from a long, forgotten dream.
"Where... are we?" one of them whispered. "Why can't I remember anything?"
But even without memories, they all turned instinctively toward him.
"You are the one who summoned us, Master."
Velmuth raised an eyebrow.
"Interesting. You already recognize me."
They didn't remember who they once were, but they knew one truth instinctively, the figure before them was their origin.
"Do you remember your names?" Velmuth asked, arms folded.
The first to speak wore a tattered gray cloak over battered leather. A rusted dagger hung from his belt, and his hood cast a shadow over a quiet face.
"My name is... John Doe," he said softly. "I don't know why. It just... clings to me."
Velmuth narrowed his eyes.
A fragmented soul. Possibly from a dimension that formed when I reshaped reality. Echoes from forgotten realms, still lingering.
"Very well," he said. "Next."
A man stepped forward with a refined air. He wore a long black coat embroidered with silver thread, a gleaming pocket watch at his hip, and leaned lightly on an ornate cane.
"I am James Moriarty," he said with a polite bow. "I thank you for calling us into existence, Master."
Elegant. Intelligent. Dangerous beneath the civility.
The next figure remained silent. He wore a rune-marked black cloak over sleek armor, his face hidden beneath a white, skull-like helmet. A massive scythe rested on his back.
"I am Jack the Reaper," he said, voice dry and cold. "I live to serve."
Velmuth turned his gaze to the first woman.
She wore a robe of deep midnight blue, lined with silver sigils. A black gemstone pulsed softly at her collar.
"I am Evelyn Graves," she said, eyes calm. "The world may have forgotten me, but I have not forgotten the world."
Velmuth smirked.
"You even speak like a prophet. How fitting."
The second woman stepped forward. Her figure was lean and agile, clad in light armor and dark leather. A red-gleaming sword hung at her waist, and her tattered cloak fluttered slightly.
"I'm Selene Vire," she said with a sly smile. "As my Master's creation, I exist to serve your will, fiercely, and without question."
Velmuth blinked slowly.
"Good. As long as it's productive."
Finally, the last stepped forth. An older man, hair streaked with gray, bearing a noble posture and sharp eyes. He wore a plain black coat over a high-collared vest.
"I am Sebastian," he said. "My memories are gone, but one thing remains. I was once... a humanoid dragon. And my strength is now yours."
Velmuth looked over the six with a faint smile.
"Excellent. You are the first of my new creations. Seek out any remnants of the Dream Beasts that linger in this world. Eliminate them if you must, or bring them to me."
The six knelt in unison, voices firm and united.
"As you will, my Lord."