Darkness.
But not the kind that hides you — the kind that sees you.
Kale stood in an endless void, his bare feet sinking into shallow water that rippled without sound. The air shimmered faintly, reflecting the same blue hue that always bled from his mana.
He wasn't sure if he was dreaming, or if this place existed somewhere inside him.
Then he heard it.
The whisper — the one that had haunted him for days — now clear and close, like a voice just behind his ear.
"So… you finally came."
Kale turned.
A figure stood in the distance, half-shrouded in mist. At first it looked human — tall, lean, clothed in tattered robes that flowed like smoke. But when it stepped closer, Kale saw its face.
It was his own.
Except the eyes — pitch black with a burning blue center.
Kale stumbled back. "What are you?"
The figure smiled. It wasn't cruel — it was knowing.
"What you call mana… I call memory. I'm what was left behind when the gods cursed your kind."
Kale shook his head. "You're lying. Mana isn't alive."
"Not anymore," the figure said. "But it was. Once, every wizard carried a soul born of mana — a living spirit that shared its strength. Until fear taught the world to separate us."
Kale's breath caught. "So you're saying you were part of me?"
"Not you." The figure's voice softened. "Your bloodline. The first wizard to bear the curse — the one they executed. When he died, his spirit scattered into fragments. One of those fragments… found you."
Kale's pulse pounded in his ears. "Then you're the curse."
The figure tilted its head. "Or the gift. Depends which side of history you read."
Kale took a step forward. "You killed that creature in the forest. You almost killed me."
"I saved you."
"You used me!"
"You called for me," the entity whispered, eyes glowing brighter. "Every time you were scared, every time you wanted to fight back — I answered. I am what your heart created to survive."
Kale clenched his fists. "I don't need you."
"You will."
The reflection of the entity rippled in the water, distorting — and suddenly there were hundreds of faces beneath the surface, all looking up, all versions of Kale — young, old, furious, broken.
Each whispered the same word, over and over, a chorus of echoes that made the void tremble:
"Name me."
"Name me."
"NAME ME."
Kale fell to his knees, clutching his head. "Stop!"
"Say it," the figure demanded, its voice now echoing with thunder. "Speak my name, and we will become whole again!"
The air cracked with blue lightning. Water rose like a storm, swirling around them. Kale's body began to glow, mana leaking from every pore.
"Who are you?" he screamed.
The figure smiled — and whispered a single word.
Kale didn't hear it clearly, only fragments — a name that sounded ancient, wrong, almost forgotten. The sound itself burned.
Then everything went white.
Kale woke with a jolt, gasping for air.
The underground room swam into focus — Elric standing over him, hand glowing faintly.
"You were convulsing," the older wizard said, breathing hard. "Your mana levels spiked again. What happened?"
Kale swallowed, his voice hoarse. "It… spoke to me."
Elric's eyes narrowed. "Did it tell you its name?"
Kale hesitated. The sound still rang in his skull — sharp, echoing. When he tried to remember it, pain lanced through his temples.
"I think so," he whispered. "But I can't… say it."
Elric's expression darkened. "Good. Don't. Words have power. If it told you its name, it means it's trying to anchor itself inside you."
Kale looked down at his hands. The faint blue veins were now darker, threading up toward his shoulders. "It's already inside me."
Elric muttered under his breath, "Then we're running out of time."
That night, Kale sat awake again, staring into the stabilizer orb.
For a moment, he thought he saw a reflection that wasn't his own — those same black-and-blue eyes watching him from inside the glass.
"You will remember me soon," the voice whispered faintly, almost gentle.
"And when you do… the world will remember us both."
The orb dimmed.
But the whisper didn't fade.