As Demos slowly opened his eyes, a strange sensation pulsed on his forehead—warm and glowing. He tried to reach up to touch it, but found his limbs unresponsive. His wrists and ankles were bound tightly by thick, fibrous vines. The ground beneath him was damp, and the air smelled of ash and meat.
The five men from before danced around a blazing fire in the clearing, their bodies painted with blood, their chants rising to the night sky in a harsh, guttural language.
"To the gods of the hunt!" one shouted.
"To the feast of flesh!" another bellowed.
Their voices were unfamiliar—and yet, Demos could understand them perfectly.
His eyes widened.
He understood them.
That's when he remembered the voice he'd heard in the darkness before awakening. A strange voice, almost… comforting. It had mentioned a system—a gift. A guide. He blinked rapidly.
Suddenly, a blinding white light burst into view in front of him, suspending itself midair like a spectral scroll. His breath caught in his throat as a glowing screen displayed strange information.
[System Interface Activated]
User Identified: Demos S. Sparta
Age: 15
Level: 1
Health: 80/100
Strength: 10
Agility: 10
Intelligence: 10
Abilities:
(##$#) — Sealed
(#_#$#) — Sealed
(#$$#$$) — Sealed
Unique Abilities:
— Five-Colored Lightning: Sealed
— Ice Age: Sealed
Demos stared at the words. A small, bitter laugh escaped him. The screen's light flickered across his bruised face, casting shadows under his wild, determined eyes.
Then he remembered—the voice had kissed him on the forehead. That warmth on his skin… it had been her.
He laughed again, louder now, defiant.
Demos: "AHAHAHAHA! So this… this is the gift you spoke of?"
He tilted his head toward the heavens.
Demos: "Then I'll make good use of it."
Suddenly, words echoed in his mind. A memory.
"My son… it's true. I am your mother."
The firelight gleamed in his eyes. Despite the vines binding him, a pride deeper than pain filled his chest.
Demos: "So be it. Since you've given me this gift… I, Demos S. Sparta, swear by the gods of Valhalla—you shall be my mother. From this moment, until death. That is my Spartan vow."
The screen responded to his oath:
[Language Pack Installed: Azuran Language]
[Skill Unlocked: Hand-to-Hand Combat – Level 1]
[New Mission Assigned: "The First Task"]
Objective: Survive 20 Minutes
Reward: +2 Strength, +2 Agility
His mind raced, but he understood now why he could comprehend the men. The system had installed the Azuran language into his mind.
The screen flickered once more.
[Warning: Hostile Entities Detected Nearby]
[Recommendation: Escape or Engage in Combat]
His blood turned cold. The five men were still laughing and dancing around the fire. One of them tossed something into the flames—it sizzled and popped like meat.
No.
No, it couldn't be.
Demos' eyes darted to the fire pit, where a charred bone jutted from the blaze. The realization hit him like a hammer to the chest.
He was the fresh meat they were singing about.
His stomach churned with rage and disgust.
From the firelight, the largest of the five approached him slowly. Saliva dripped from the man's mouth as he leaned in, eyes filled with hunger.
Man: "Hope you taste as good as you look, little lamb. I'm hungry as fuck."
Somewhere in the endless cosmos...
On a distant star—so ancient its tree roots pierced the heavens—a royal palace trembled from a mighty roar.
Old Man: "YOU STUPID, WORTHLESS SON!"
His voice cracked across the mountains, echoing into the golden halls.
Old Man: "How dare you make a bet with your elder brother! And now—he's DEAD!"
Younger Brother: "That wasn't part of the bet! He only had to seduce her and record it with the stone—!"
Old Man: "HE'S DEAD, YOU BASTARD! And now it'll take THREE HUNDRED YEARS for his resurrection!"
A powerful gust blasted from the old man's mouth as if the universe itself feared his wrath.
Old Man: "FROM THIS DAY FORWARD—YOU WILL NOT LEAVE YOUR CHAMBER UNTIL HE RETURNS!"
Younger Brother: "Father—!"
Old Man: "SILENCE! I should've slaughtered you both!"
Ten golden-armored guards arrived instantly at his gesture.
Old Man: "Escort my disgrace of a son to his room."
The guards seized the younger brother without hesitation.
Old Man: "And you—have you seen my granddaughter?"
Guard: "No, my king. She remains in her chamber. She has not stepped outside since the last war."
The old man grunted, waving the guard away.
Old Man: "Notify me if that changes."
He stood alone in the hall, murmuring to himself.
Old Man: "That girl... she has such power. She could've been a queen of stars… but instead, she chooses to remain buried in that place. I gave her sanctuary, and now even I regret it."
IN THE VOID...
There was no sound. No life. No stars.
Until laughter shattered the silence.
Voice: "AHAHAHAHAHA! As I said… my son has recognized me."
A red light surged from her body, burning through the blackness. She stood surrounded by a sea of corpses—billions of lifeless bodies, from species across time and space.
The earth beneath her feet quaked.
Voice: "I am your mother—and you, the last of my blood. I will destroy them all… every soul who had a hand in killing my child and My people."
She lifted her hands, and crimson energy spiraled into the air. From the dust of death, two massive swords formed—blades of dark gold laced with lightning.
Ancient runes spun above her, whispering in a language lost to reality.
The void began to shake.
The swords hovered, humming with anticipation.
A ripple passed through the air.
Something was coming.
The void itself trembled. Energy bled from the stones, warping time. A form began to take shape—fluid, godlike, forged from pain and fire.
As the figure solidified, the two blades ceased their song.
The red light dimmed.
And the void… fell into a deep, menacing silence.