The moment Kalm closed his eyes, his body groaned in protest — begging him for a sliver of rest after the harrowing ordeal that nearly claimed his life…
And after all the cursed nonsense that had just been thrown upon him.
*"Damn it… what a fate…"*
Darkness crept in — a darkness Kalm never imagined could feel so… peaceful — and his consciousness began to fade.
A deep exhaustion engulfed him.
Within seconds, sleep took him.
Whether that was a wise decision or not, it hardly mattered.
He didn't have the luxury of choice.
But the instant his mind surrendered to rest…
A strange sensation shook his being, and his eyes opened once more — calmly this time.
He found himself standing in a pitch-black chamber, shrouded in thick, gray fog.
It stretched so high he couldn't see the ceiling — if there even was one.
It was as though the walls reached into the heavens, boundless and eternal.
There were eight towering walls…
And yet, from where Kalm stood, he could only *perceive* four of them.
The other four were swallowed entirely by the mist — hidden, veiled.
But each visible wall radiated a unique color, distinct and vivid.
To Kalm's left stood a wall as black as the night sky — a darkness that whispered of cruelty, combat, and merciless wrath.
Next to it, a golden wall gleamed, glowing warmly like sunlight upon a sacred altar — exuding the nobility of loyalty, honor, and unwavering devotion.
To his right, one wall burned in a deep orange-red, like flame given physical form.
It radiated heat that could warm a soul — or burn it to ashes.
It felt chaotic, mocking, amused.
As if it cared for nothing, valued nothing. It existed purely for thrill, for jest.
Beside that, the fourth wall was far more subdued — neither brilliant nor void.
It seemed… shaded by the color of the fog itself.
Not black, not white, not even gray in the traditional sense — but something calmer.
Something gentler.
It was like the steady murmur of a river flowing without pause, unmoved by storm or stone.
The voice of reason in a world of turmoil.
Kalm wasn't exactly an expert in colors, or their meanings — but he *felt* the nature of each wall.
He could sense the serenity in that shaded one.
Peaceful. Quiet. Enduring.
He stared at the four visible walls for a long time, a complicated expression on his face.
Trying to make sense of where he was.
And why.
*"Is this… some kind of dream?"*
Considering the trial he was in, and the absurd title of "The Lost One"…
The curse… the unnatural flow of the test… all of it.
Plunging someone into a vision or dream like this wouldn't be that far-fetched.
Maybe it was a message.
A whisper from some ancient force.
A prophecy.
Something like that.
Kalm rubbed his head, scanned the space again, and stepped forward.
There was nothing but fog — dense and motionless — and those towering walls reaching for the stars.
Each wall pulsed with a presence, as if representing something far greater than mere stone.
Something deeply intertwined with the world's story — and perhaps his own.
No sound.
Not even his footsteps or breathing echoed here.
Just stillness.
A strangely comforting silence.
No menace.
No lurking threat.
*"But aren't the walls themselves… the weird thing?"*
*"Hah… another heap of nonsense I've been dumped into."*
With that bitter thought, Kalm gathered his resolve.
Rather than wandering aimlessly through the fog, he turned his head slowly, looking over his shoulder —
And set his eyes on one of the walls.
He dubbed it *The Wall of Shadow*.
To him, it symbolized calmness.
Peace.
The very feeling it radiated.
He took a step toward it and clenched his hand into a tight fist.
Given that this seemed to be a dream… or perhaps some hallucination…
There was no sword on his hip.
*"Haaah… as if it would've helped anyway…"*
He scoffed inwardly — bitterly reminded of his curse.
Even the most basic act of defending himself was denied to him.
Yet amid that bitterness, a thought flashed in Kalm's eyes.
*"The Lost One bore four names… but also one fatal flaw.
And yet, if he truly rivaled the Eight Sovereigns in power…
How did he ever reach that level?"*
*"How did he overcome his curse?"*
It was a valid question.
Logically, it should have been impossible.
Someone who couldn't fight — couldn't *kill* — had no path to ascend through ranks or achieve such greatness.
*"Did his four names have something to do with it…?"*
It would make sense if he had found a way to rise — not by erasing his weakness,
but transcending it.
Such a truth would be invaluable to Kalm.
A thread to follow.
A thread that could very well save his life — both literally and metaphorically.
He stepped forward again —
And this time, something strange happened.
The thick, gray fog began to thin… only in one direction.
The path toward the orange wall — the flame of chaos and apathy — was quietly sealed.
And the way toward the *Wall of Shadow* opened wide.
Kalm narrowed his eyes, wearing a blank expression.
*"…Great. As if this wasn't unsettling enough already."*
It was strange — disturbing, even.
As though the fog itself had sensed his intent…
But when had fog become a *living* thing?
It was just a natural phenomenon.
Wasn't it?
So why did it *move* as if it had a will?
As if it were guiding him?
As if it *wanted* him to face that wall… first?
Kalm forced a crooked smile and stepped toward the wall.
**"Since you're insisting... just don't kill me in some treacherous way, alright?"**
He muttered sarcastically, and after a few hesitant steps, he stood before it.
Up close, the wall was absurdly massive — so tall that Kalm half-believed it could touch the sky, its looming shadow vast enough to blanket an entire world.
And yet, despite its overwhelming scale, the wall radiated a strange kind of calm…
Like the voice of reason whispering through the chaos and madness of life.
Kalm furrowed his brow in disbelief and covered his face with a hand, silently cursing his own thoughts.
**"Since when do walls have… feelings?"**
Weren't walls just structures?
Meant to protect something inside — by sealing the way in.
Or maybe protect the outside — by keeping something trapped from escaping.
*"Nonsense... Why is this happening to me? Just a filthy rat from the slums…"*
He grumbled, staring at the gray wall.
There had to be *something* here.
A sign, a scratch, a word… anything — some kind of inscription to explain what this place was, or why he was here in the first place.
He searched carefully — but found nothing.
Not even the faintest crack or blemish.
After failing to find anything from afar, he hesitantly reached out with his left hand…
Slowly, cautiously, he placed his palm on the wall.
It was cool to the touch — but not in a chilling or threatening way.
More like the comforting cold of shade on a hot day.
It was solid — incredibly so — and yet oddly pliable at the same time.
It wasn't made of iron, or brick, or even black stone…
No, it felt like something entirely different.
Something *strange*.
As if the wall had been forged not from any material —
But from a feeling.
As if calmness itself had been condensed into physical form.
Kalm raised an eyebrow in disbelief at the absurd conclusion.
**"Seriously…? A wall made from the emotion of calmness?
Wasn't the fog creepy enough already…?"**
Still — considering the Lost One had forged weapons that required the sacrifice of entire worlds to obtain —
Creating a wall from living emotions seemed almost… tame.
**"…Right."**
He sighed in exasperation and waited.
Waited for *something* to happen.
Anything to snap him out of this dream — or at least explain it.
Seconds passed.
Stretched into a full minute.
Nothing.
No revelation.
No voice.
No change.
So, Kalm pulled his hand away from the wall.
It didn't try to hold him.
The strange gray fog didn't react.
Nothing happened at first.
But a heartbeat later…
Right where he had placed his palm —
A word began to etch itself into the surface in a soft, glowing white.
It was written in a strange script, one that resembled the golden letters of the World Voice…
And yet, Kalm felt it was somehow *different*.
Even so, he understood it.
Clearly.
As if it had been written just for him.
He parted his lips and whispered the word aloud:
**"The… Calm One…"**
He tilted his head, puzzled…
And then, with a flicker of unease and a jolt of shock —
He took a step back from the figure that had just manifested before him.