...
When Edward stepped forward, reality itself unraveled.
The ground beneath him turned white—endless, silent, infinite. There was no horizon, no wind, no sound. Just emptiness swallowing existence.
"Where… did I even enter?" he murmured, his voice echoing faintly in the void. "Wasn't I supposed to take the Test of Wisdom?"
His words faded into nothing. Then, from the distance, a voice—ancient and calm—broke the silence.
"So you are here. Come forth and answer five of my questions… and I shall be yours."
Edward turned toward the sound. An old man sat cross-legged where the sword had once been. The weapon was gone—no gleam, no aura—only the faint outline of a man, still as time itself.
Edward's instincts screamed caution, but curiosity outweighed fear. Step by step, he approached.
"Excuse me, sir," Edward said softly, "may I know your name… and where exactly am I?"
The old man didn't answer. His eyes stayed fixed ahead, unblinking. The silence pressed down like gravity.
Edward waited. A minute passed. Then two.
He tried again. "Sir?" Nothing. Not a word. Not even a breath.
Patience drained into frustration. The silence mocked him—just as the world once did. The people who ignored him, the gods who turned their gaze away… it was all the same.
"Can you even hear me, old man?" His voice sharpened. "I've been talking to you! Say something!"
The man exhaled slowly, his tone calm yet cutting.
"You've failed your test—the Test of Patience. That was the least you could have passed."
Edward froze. "What…?"
The man continued without turning.
"You've failed again—the Test of Manners."
Edward clenched his fists, guilt clashing with anger. He wanted to speak, but no words came. His heart pounded in the silence.
"So you're… testing me?" he finally asked, voice low.
"Indeed," the man replied. "I am the Spirit of the Sword. For a thousand years, I've waited for someone worthy enough to hear my voice. You are the first in all that time."
The title struck Edward like lightning. Spirit of the Sword. He wasn't standing before an illusion—he was standing before something older than kings, older than his existence.
The spirit's tone shifted, colder now.
"Tell me, Edward. If you had to choose—protect your friends or defeat your enemy—which would you do?"
Edward looked down. His reflection rippled faintly beneath his feet, as though the white floor were made of mist.
"Defeat my enemy," he said quietly. "I have no one left to protect. I'm not even strong enough to pretend otherwise."
The spirit said nothing, but the silence spoke louder than judgment.
Edward felt it—the echo of loneliness in his own voice.
"If you could take revenge," the spirit asked next, "or be hailed as a hero of the world… which would you choose?"
A flicker of memory pierced Edward's mind: the face of his friend—the CEO who smiled moments before the plane went down.
His voice trembled, then steadied. "I'd take revenge. I'll bring justice for my friend, even if the world calls me a villain."
"As I thought," the spirit murmured. "Bound by vengeance… still chained to pain."
Edward looked away, jaw tight. "Then what would you have me do? Forget?"
The spirit didn't answer. Only silence—heavy and eternal.
Then, finally, the fifth and final question.
The spirit raised his head, eyes ancient yet human.
"Would you rather walk your journey alone… or with companions?"
Edward's breath hitched. The question cut deeper than any blade.
His whole life—his losses, his pride, his endless solitude—flashed before him.
He wanted to say alone, as he always did. But his heart betrayed him.
"I…" he whispered, voice cracking. "I want a journey with my own companions. I don't want to be alone. I want friends. I want people who love me."
The spirit's eyes softened. The faintest light returned to his face.
"You failed four of my tests," he said. "But you passed the one that mattered most."
Edward blinked. "You… wanted me to choose loneliness?"
"No," the spirit replied gently. "I wanted you to desire not to be. Only those who long for warmth can wield power without losing their humanity."
A silence followed—not empty this time, but peaceful. Edward smiled faintly. For a moment, he understood.
But then—
BOOM!
The void shattered. Cracks of light tore through the white world like veins in glass. The ground trembled, breaking apart beneath his feet.
Edward staggered. "Wait—what's happening?!"
"Your time here ends," the spirit's fading voice echoed. "When you open your eyes again… remember what you truly wished for."
The light consumed everything. Sound vanished.
And Edward was swallowed by the hollow beyond the world.
To be continued.....