_Screech!
After what felt like an eternity, a crack finally appeared in the endless void surrounding Sol. A sliver of light pierced the darkness, and he didn't waste a second, he began to "swim" toward it. Though, Sol wasn't even sure if swimming was the right word.
He couldn't feel arms or legs. In fact, he wasn't sure if he even had a physical body.
But none of that mattered.
All that mattered was escape.
Forget past suffering, if this was what came after death, Sol wanted no part of it.This place was terrifying. Eerie.But above all, it was lonely.
So lonely, in fact, that Sol had started missing the rats back at Paymon's castle.Even if they bit him every chance they got, they were the only company he ever had.
He pushed forward with every ounce of willpower, driven by desperation. And finally, he reached the light.
_Blink!
Everything faded again, but this time, it didn't feel like he was sinking.He was rising.
And then came the first sensation:
PAIN.
Sharp, raw, gut-wrenching pain.
But after so long in the void, even pain was a welcome sign of life.
What is going on?
He looked around.
And the world made no sense.
The sky above was, cracked.Shattered like glass, splintering across the heavens with deep, jagged lines.Crimson light poured through the fractures like blood dripping from a wound that would never heal.
But Sol had no time to process it.
"Gaaah!"
His body convulsed, lurching with a force it shouldn't have. He gasped — too deep, too fast, and immediately choked. His lungs burned.
'My body feels like it's been crushed under a mountain.'
He blinked rapidly.No castle. No marble walls.No 'Cursed Titan'.
Just moss. Wet and cold beneath his broken body.
Above him loomed a moon, massive, blood-red, and far too close.It hung in the sky like an eye watching.
His thoughts blurred from exhaustion. The madness of it all pressed down on him like fog.
What is going on? he asked again, this time aloud.
But no one answered.
And in his confusion, he didn't notice the figure slipping through the rocks to his left.Draped in swirling shadows, its form was hard to follow, almost smearing against the scenery.
By the time Sol noticed…
A dagger was already swinging toward his skull.
He barely managed to raise his arm.
_Thwaam!
It was like getting hit by a truck.He blocked the blade, yes but the sheer force of the strike detonated pain through his whole body.
The world spun.
Launched like a ragdoll, he crashed into stone.Old rock cracked around him. Dust clouded the air.
Everything hurt.His ears rang.His body throbbed.
The shadowed figure stepped through the settling haze.Up close, Sol saw that it was limping. One arm hung broken at its side.Its face was hidden beneath a mask, its aura cold and unreadable.
A soft voice slipped through the mask. Almost mocking.
"Found you, young master."
There was ringing in his head.
Literally. A sharp, shrill, deafening ring.
Everything pulsed in and out of focus. Smoke clouded his vision, and the metallic taste of blood coated the back of his throat.
A grunt clawed its way up as he tried rolling to his belly but failed.
He spat blood onto the moss and groaned, half in pain, half in exasperation.
'Young master? What the hell is he talking about…?'
The masked figure cocked his head slightly.
"It seems your body is finally giving up on you,"
he spoke. His tone was cool, casual — far too calm for someone delivering death. "But I have to say, I never expected you to put up such a fight. Even poisoned. Guess they were right, people from the Seven Great Houses really are built different."
A moment passed.The air grew cold.
Then the figure moved.
"Now… it's time for you to die."
Shadows snapped around him like coiled snakes. A long obsidian dagger folded out from the darkness and dropped into his hand.
Sol barely had time to brace. He bent his knees instinctively, adrenaline overriding the pain.
The blade came fast, slicing sideways for his ribs.
He twisted just in time. The dagger missed its mark, but not by much — it carved clean through his shirt, grazing his skin.
Another slash followed, this one rising from below, aiming straight for his stomach.
He stepped back, barely, stumbling over his own breath.
"JUST WAIT A MOMENT! WHAT IS GOING ON?!" Sol shouted, panic breaking through.
The shadow didn't answer.
He flipped the dagger into a reverse grip and lunged, driving the blade straight for Sol's face.
Sol dodged again, the blade slicing his cheek, close enough to tear through the bone if he'd been slower by even a second.
He was overwhelmed.
The shadow kept pressing, strike after strike, not giving Sol a moment to breathe, let alone think.
Sol wasn't a fighter.
He never had been.Just surviving this long was already a miracle.
But luck runs out soon.
His foot caught on a stone behind him.He tripped.
He fell.
And the shadow leapt.
A blur of movement. A flash of silver. The dagger arced down toward his skull.
Sol barely managed to raise his hand in defense.
_Shhk!
The blade stabbed straight through his palm, stopping just a few centimeters from his left eye.
Agony.A white-hot scream of it.
But worse than the pain was the confusion.
'Wasn't I already dead?''Didn't I see my own head roll away? That dark mage... the castle… I should be gone.''So why am I here? And why is this stranger trying to kill me?'
He gritted his teeth.
He was angry.
'Why is everyone trying to kill a nobody like me?'
He had no title. No legacy. No hidden power.
All he ever wanted was a peaceful, healthy life, was that really too much to ask?
The dagger pushed closer.
Sol screamed, raw and desperate:
"WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME LIVING A PEACEFUL LIFE?!"
And then…
The world stopped.
The sky froze.
The moon halted mid-glow.
The clouds, the breeze, the rippling lake, everything stood still, like someone had hit pause on reality itself.
The color drained from the world. Greyscale flooded the horizon.
Even the dagger, inches from his face, was frozen in time.
The only thing that still shimmered…was a faint light, glowing from the crystal set into Sol's left glove.
He gasped, suddenly standing.No pain. No blood.And before him: the attacker, frozen mid-strike…
And lying beneath the blade… was a youth.
Someone of his own age. Wearing same clothes as him.Pale white hair. Golden eyes. The same clothes.
Sol grabbed at his own head, frustrated beyond words.
"WHAT NOW?!"
A voice answered, smooth as silk, from behind him.
"Oh? You wish to live peacefully, do you?"
He turned.
A woman sat on a weathered stone. A gravestone, he realized, upon closer look.
She wore no armor, no crown, yet her presence weighed more than mountains.
Her voice was calm, but final.
"Unfortunately, 'peaceful' and 'life' rarely walk hand in hand."
Sol stared. The world was still frozen, only he and this woman seemed untouched.
"But…" she continued, brushing invisible dust from her lap, "if you truly want to live as you, please… then you'll need strength."
Her gaze locked onto his.
"Strength to crush everything that stands against you."
Sol swallowed.
"Because in the end…"She rose, walking past the frozen attacker."Only strength is the absolute."
She stopped and looked back over her shoulder.
"It's the only way to bend fate."