Damian stared at the glowing runes in front of him, the four words glowed brightly in the endless abyss and yet their meaning escaped him, well not literally, he understood the words perfectly but couldn't understand why something like this was to be considered a flaw?
The name, Flaw made him think of imperfection or something that was wrong with how something was like for instance a rifle with a cracked scope, or the subtle imbalance in the texture of metals, or even as major as something like missing a limb or a lack of one's senses, something tangible which can be understood as others as a negative on something that would otherwise be perfect, he read over the runes again to make sure he wasn't misinterpreting their meaning.
[Guardian]
The word itself was simple, a simple notation of what was to follow warped into a simple message, it was the description which gave him some though,
[You must protect others]
The words were so simple that he failed to understand what was wrong with them, how was protecting others a flaw? It was human nature to want to protect others so why did it deem it as a negative, and why stop there, there are plenty of traits humans possess which could be labelled Flaws if this was the criteria.
The idea was as confusing as it was agitating, saying that one of the most important parts of being human was a flaw is something that deeply upset him, but at the same time, these runes never quite told the whole story, never providing the inner details of how they actually worked so there might be some catch he is yet to learn.
Soon after these thoughts flooded his head the endless tapestry above pulsed once more, its silver glow growing brighter once more,
[Wake up, Damian]
The void twisted away from him, morphing into something he couldn't quite understand Damian opened his eyes once more, he found himself laying on a large bed, well it would have been more accurate to say he was slumped on it, in a pile in the center, rolling over he stared at the ceiling above, and quickly let out a laugh, he laughed and laughed as if he had been told the funniest thing in the world, he knew this place well for it was his home, he had returned from that dreadful desert alive and it seemed he didn't come back quite the same, as he could still feel the power flowing through his body, the clarity of his mind and the ancient aches were still gone so he couldn't help himself.
Sitting up on the edge of the bed for a second he glanced out a nearby window and stared at the streets below, countless vehicles had been torn apart, either crushed by now broken tanks laying in the streets or torn apart by the claws of some vile beast, bodies littered the ground, many which he recognised and many he did not, it seemed a lot had happened since he fell asleep, blissfully unaware of the chaos happening around him. He couldn't see any of the infected wandering the streets but he knew they were out there, waiting for the chance to make him their next meal, taking in a deep breath he looked down at his hands, at first he was happy to see the familiar sight before him, knowing that he was back in his own body was a relief but he now had new questions and turning his hands over looking at his palms he got an answer.
After years of countless battles, training and just general everyday activity Damian had collected more than his share of callous which were a mosaic of his work over the years, but now they were gone, his hands were as smooth as the day he was born, no even more so, the rugged hands of a man of his age now replaced with those of a much stronger and limber strength, he would have to give his wife the good news when he saw her next…
Exhaling sharply at his own bad jokes, a shiver ran down his spine, wondering where the miraculous transformation stopped. He quickly stood from the bedside and checked his reflection in the nearby mirror, staring back at him, a face he never thought he'd see again.
It was a strange thing to see to say the least, he had always thought he was aging well but this was something new, it was as if he was a few years younger, with how smooth and clean his skin had become, his wrinkles which had slowly formed were all gone, now replaced with impressively smooth skin, his dark hair had regained some of its former luster, with the small grey highlights nowhere to be seen, and the scars on the side of his face had faded, they weren't gone of course, but they now blended into his skin much more than they had before, and his eye, which had been mostly destroyed seemed to be back once again, granted it was cloudy and he could barely see through it, but he could! It was an emotional experience, to regain something once thought to be forever lost was not something people experienced often if ever, so it filled with immense happiness he could almost dance.
It wasn't just the parts of him that were damaged either which received an improvement, his vision in his remaining eye was beyond reason, he could see more clearly than he ever had dreamed of, his amber eye piercing with a sharpness unbecoming of a man with such a stupid smile on his face, his other senses all seemed to be heightened as well, not as noticeable as his sight but still impressively so. With all the changes to his body he focused inward as he had done many times before, and a number of runes appeared before his eyes, the sight was surreal, back in the nightmarish desert with monsters and magic the ancient letters felt like they belonged but here in the modern day it was a sharp contrast.
So this was his reward for completing the trial it seemed, he was able to bring the power he had gained back into reality, it was a strange thought, knowing that he had actually been in a strange life or death trial all while he slept felt so unnatural yet he couldn't deny it. However a dark thought crossed his mind, if he and potentially others like him could pass the trails to obtain strange and wonderful abilities, then did the monsters that now roamed the streets have their own to complete? He shuddered to think of the types of powers those creatures could possess, it would be something straight out of a nightmare for the remnants of humanity.
Staring at his runes he decided now was the time to examine the last memory he had gained from the dreadful battle, the memories of the being used like a pin-cushion making his whole body quiver as he stared at the runes,
[Memory: Ariadne's Warbow]
[Memory Rank: Awakened]
[Memory Type: Weapon]
Memory Description:
[Ariadne's Warbow: Carved from the defiled remains of a sacred grove, this weapon is said to carry the shattered soul of all that it lays to rest]
The description was short and not very useful right now, not that it mattered, he had experienced the devastation in which this weapon could cause first hand so despite its description its power was unmistakeable, and besides a weapon is just what he would need in order to survive this new world, summoning it in a rain of sparks, he watched as it rapidly wove itself into existence, and now nestled in his hand, was the very weapon which had nearly cost him his life.
Quickly after summoning the bow he realised a small problem, two actually, the first one was that he was actually unable to pull the string back all the way, even for his now improved strength the string barely moved which made using it all but impossible for the moment, the second problem was that, even if he could pull the string back he didn't have any arrows to fire from it and he doubted any that he made himself would survive being fired from it anyway, so in a grateful sigh he returned the beautiful bow to his soul, hoping one day he would be able to wield the powerful memory.
After he was done sulking he quickly got himself into gear and started to pack, finding an old rucksack he stuffed it with as many supplies as he could manage to carry, food, water, medicines and other such supplies, were all going to be important for his long journey ahead. He didn't know how long had passed since he fell asleep, so he could only hope that his wife and daughter had safely made their way to the emergency shelter, he was planning on meeting them there as soon as he could, but with all the vehicles on the street now destroyed, he would have to make his way on foot, taking his trusty rifle with him he headed out the front door of his house, for what would be the last time.