The catacombs opened into a space beneath Murrchel Academy, where shadows clung to the rough stone. Abraham moved carefully, his footsteps the only sound in the wet surface, quiet air. He felt premonition in this dark atmosphere; his Hollow Cry giving a instinct of an old, ancient presence there before the academy.
The air inside here smelled of slightly wet stone, sawdust, and metal. A vibration ran through the space walls, matching Abraham's pulse. It started soft and became stronger. Each heartbeat seemed to draw the shadows together.
He paused in the largest vault, its ceiling disappearing into darkness. The Hollow Cry within him intensified, testing the boundaries of his control. Then he felt it a presence, vast and patient, waiting.
Smoke began to coil in the darkness. Shadows thickened, swirling, shaping themselves into something enormous. Then molten lines glimmered faintly along its massive body. A low growl sounded in the vault cage. Not in anger from hunger , just old and ancient like the stones recalling the first palms of life, has start to clock again.
Then he saw it.
Its fur had a liquid silver look, and its eyes glowed gold. Feathers edged its shoulders in smooth arcs, and its claws sparked as they touched the stone. Abraham stopped moving, feeling the weight of the moment.
It looked at him, and he sensed a bond forming, both fragile and strong. The Hollow Cry in him throbbed in response, answering the pulse of the wolf's presence.
"You… were there before," he murmured, thinking back to the first fleeting shadow glimpsed in the courtyard, a whisper of something unreal. "And now… you're mine."
The Beast tilted its head, eyes narrowing, the molten gold burning brighter for a heartbeat. It moved closer toward Abraham with slow pace, the shadows folding around it like reflections, yet it carried no threat only recognition, Recognition to it's old master. Abraham reached out, and for the first time, felt the pulse of the Beast in his skin, the tether consolidate.
A bright flare in his vision, the system pulsing urgently:
[Synchronization Detected — Hollow Cry Alignment Confirmed]
[Name Your Beast]
The name came instinctively, carried on a breath full of reverence:
"Oboros."
The wolf shivered, fur glowing with molten light, feathers ruffling, and the bond cemented. A ripple of energy surged around them, shadows and mist twisting like smoke caught in fire.
[Title Awarded — The Undying Wolf]
Oboros's form sharpened, shadow and smoke now fully corporeal. Every motion radiated power and intelligence. Abraham knelt, placing a hand against its flank. The claws scraped his gloves, but there was no danger. Only trust, fragile but absolute.
He remembered the courtyard, the first pulse of Hollow Cry, the tremor in the stones. This was no summoning anymore—it was a bond, a soul-bound connection that could not be broken.
Oboros circled him slowly, sniffing, studying. This artifact resonated, a deep rumble that felt rather than an intimidation and more like a salutation. Abraham sensed it profoundly – an enticement, a chance to unite.
The shadows all around seemed to tremble, agreeing with the new understanding. The Hollow Cry pulsed with Oboros, two heartbeats, two wills entwined.
"Together," Abraham whispered. "We're each other shadow from now on."
Oboros breathed out; smoke floated like mist, its claws scratched on the stone. Abraham felt a delicate heat from the tether, a real thing. The mists of the vault whirled, showing faint figures – glimpses of initial iterations, poised to awaken.
The first Beast had chosen its master. Abraham straightened, pulsewave calm but alive, Hollow Cry synchronized, Oboros at his side. The Undying Wolf had arrived, and everything had changed.
And deep in the bowels of the academy, silent and still, something else listened—something ancient, waiting for the next heartbeat.