The sky hung heavy with brooding clouds, as if a storm was about to descend. Below, the sea churned restlessly, its grey waves clawing at the horizon.
Zagan's eyes snapped open, finding himself atop a square platform suspended above the sea. Three circular arrays hovered above the platform, faintly pulsing with an ethereal light.
"Haa…" He exhaled, letting the weight of the strange world wash over him. Everything felt muted, the sky ready to weep, the sea a dull, desolate grey.
Zagan looked himself over, raising an eyebrow. Unlike the sleek, synthetic attire common in this era, his physical soul body was dressed in something straight out of the 21st century.
A black kimono hugged his frame, layered with a robe etched in red patterns, and his legs were clad in a modern black hakama.
Something he had always worn while training kenjutsu under his master Asashi.
It felt as if the Will of the Realm already knew him… knew exactly who, or what… he was.
As he pondered this, a sudden warmth spread through his chest, accompanied by a rush of power and euphoria. It was as though he were gaining control over some unexplainable energy.
He knew what it was. After all, he had learned all the fundamentals needed for the trial. A Soul Seed was forming within his heart. Once he passed this trial, the seed would mature into a Soul Core.
This moment was especially critical for Synths. A Synth could only link their artificial core to a human's Soul Core while it was still in the seed stage.
That was why, if a Synth lost a Rank 2 or 3 Vassal, they couldn't simply latch onto another Rank 3 human.
They had to find someone undergoing their first Awakening Trial and link their artificial core to the nascent Soul Seed. Once the seed matured to a core, half of all Soul Essence the human gained from then on would flow into the Synth's artificial core.
Once Zagan completed his trial, it would be nearly impossible for any Synth to leech from him.
Of course, failure carried consequences. If he failed the trial, the Soul Seed would collapse, and he would either die… or return to the real world as if nothing had happened, forever barred from entering the Soul Realm again.
* * *
Zagan was bracing himself for whatever the trial had to offer when something materialized before him… and he couldn't help but stare in awe.
"Damn… this realm… it's like it knows every record of my soul," he muttered. He wasn't angry, instead he was ecstatic. A katana in its sheath hovered before him, perfectly poised.
Unlike the standard katanas wielded by kenjutsu practitioners and samurai, this one had a longer blade, though not quite as long as an odachi.
The hilt was black and gold. Zagan had been training in kenjutsu since a very young age. Once he mastered all the classical katas and forms, he began improvising: blending techniques, creating his own variations, and eventually crafting a style all his own.
And the katana hovering before him was identical to the one he had wielded in his own era. Perhaps it was just a replica… but it stirred a deep, aching nostalgia. He had truly missed it.
"Kuro no Zai… daddy missed you," he murmured, grasping the hilt with ease. The weight, the balance… it all felt exactly as it should.
Every first-time trial taker received a weapon module upon entering the awakening trial, tailored to something they had experience with or a weapon they were familiar with. Those who had never touched a blade were given a random weapon. Most humans in this era ended up with sleek cyberpunk gear: Thermal blades, mono-blades, or guns… like the Magna Pulse Pistol or Vortex Railgun.
Zagan, however, was different. This era was not his own. And he didn't care. With a fluid motion, he sheathed the katana at his hip.
Then, as if the realm itself had been waiting, words began to manifest within his Soulspace… directly from the Realm's Will.
Zagan closed his eyes and focused inward.
The Soulspace, his personal inner domain, unfolded before him — a realm that existed within the depths of his soul. He could access it only because his Soul Seed was forming; it was currently incomplete, just a void until his seed matured.
His consciousness drifted into the void, weightless and silent. Then, within that darkness, words began to surface, revealing the details of his Awakening Trial.
— ✦ —
[ Trial of Awakening ]
Seeker: Zagan Omen Lysander
[ Description ]
A wanderer who has traversed the flow of space and time in pursuit of something greater. Yet such a journey leaves behind fragments — unresolved matters and lingering regrets.
This Trial grants you the chance to confront them… and to find completion, Seeker.
Whether you triumph or fall shall be decided by your own will.
[ Objective ]
◆ Choose your path. Cross the bridge and free at least one of the three bound figures before the sands of time expire.
◆ Once your choice is made, the remaining time to free the other two will be halved.
Initial Time Limit: 10 minutes
[ Note ]
The trial begins the moment your choice is made.
Good luck, Seeker.
— ✦ —
"Wha—?!" Zagan froze, eyes wide. He knew the Realm's Will might've seen through him, but this… this felt different. It was as if the damn thing had read his entire life.
Was it some kind of God?
Before he could process the thought, the grey fog blanketing the sea began to stir, parting on both sides like the story of Moses splitting the sea.
And what it revealed stole his breath away.
Far before him lay a vast, square platform rising above the churning grey waters. Three gallows stood upon it — one at the center of each side.
From each gallows stretched a wooden bridge, leading to smaller platforms further out across the sea. Between them churned the black waters, violent and uninviting… crossing between bridges would be suicide.
Zagan's hand instinctively tightened around his katana's hilt. The lazy nonchalance he usually carried evaporated like smoke.
He could see the faces of the three people bound to those gallows… and when recognition struck, his heart trembled.
The Realm had created something he never wanted to face. The gallows hadn't activated yet, but he could feel the pressure… the moment he failed, those three would hang.