The ruins were quiet.
Dust drifted through the broken stone arches as Rex Caldera stepped over a fallen pillar, stretching his arms after yet another exhausting mission. His boots scraped against the old floor tiles, echoing faintly in the empty halls. He let out a long sigh.
"Finally done… That should buy me at least two days of peace."
He spoke too soon.
A voice cut through the silence behind him.
"Well, well… look what we have here."
Rex froze.
Great. Peace lasted exactly three seconds.
He turned slowly.
A man stood in the shadow of a crumbling doorway — tall, armored in a sleek set of steel-gray plates, with a massive greatsword strapped casually across his back. His hair was snowy white, his eyes sharp and bright red, practically glowing with intensity.
Rex blinked. "Uh… hello?"
The man stepped forward, analyzing him like a rare artifact.
"A demon with inverted silver eyes," he said, almost impressed. "And a soulless one, no less. What a find."
Rex raised a brow. "And… who are you supposed to be?"
The man placed a hand on his chest with theatrical flair.
"The name is Draeven."
He took another step, boots clicking against stone, expression growing more serious.
"You know… your type is very rare to find. A demon with inverted silver eyes and a soulless—"
"Dude," Rex cut in, deadpan. "Are you being racist right now?"
Draeven actually choked on air.
"R—Racist?! What—no!"
Rex crossed his arms. "Sounds pretty racist. 'Oh look, a demon! Oh look, rare eyes!' Bro, I'm not just a demon, I'm a Fluxian. If you're here to be a racist hater, please go hate someone else. I'm clocked out today."
Rex turned and casually began walking toward the exit.
"Wait—NO! That's not what I meant!" Draeven shouted, scrambling after him.
Rex stopped, half annoyed, half curious. "Then what did you mean?"
Draeven took a breath, straightened himself, smoothed his hair like he was resetting his dignity, and said, "Let me reintroduce myself. I am Draeven — a monster hunter."
Rex stared. "Wow. Amazing. And that's the introduction you decided to go with earlier?"
Draeven ignored him completely.
"Listen, kid. I've seen your kind before, so I'm going to get straight to the point." He pointed at Rex's chest. "You're soulless."
Rex shrugged. "Oh yeah? Then explain how I'm alive."
"That's not the point," Draeven snapped. "The point is: you are soulless, and because of that, other souls will try to take over your body. To become you — but their own version."
Rex blinked. "Really? That sounds… fake."
Draeven turned away, clearly done arguing with what he assumed was a clueless child.
"Believe me or don't," he said over his shoulder. "But remember this: grow stronger. Otherwise, the souls inside you will eventually take over completely."
He walked away, cloak fluttering dramatically as he disappeared into the dust-filled light at the end of the ruins.
Rex watched him leave, baffled.
"…What a strange man."
Silence.
Then two different voices spoke in his head.
The first, calm and regal:
"I do not like him."
The second, sharp and irritated:
"Better not trust strangers."
Rex sighed. "Yeah, that's what I thought too."
He started walking again — slower this time. He tried to brush off Draeven's warning, pretend it was nonsense… but for some reason, he couldn't.
Because the seriousness in the man's voice — and the look in those red eyes — didn't feel like a lie.
They felt like a prophecy.