Without hesitation, Baines descended the stone staircase into the shadowed depths below.
TAP… TAP…
Each step echoed in the suffocating silence, and with every footfall, fire lamps along the damp walls flickered to life, casting a wavering, amber glow across the underground chamber.
This wasn't a room he was ever supposed to enter, but with the situation of his family, what was the point of its existence if it couldn't be used now, in their darkest hour?
The chamber stretched long and narrow, and its air was heavy with the weight of forgotten glory. Raised platforms lined both sides, each cradling the Baek family's most prized artifacts, treasures amassed over generations of wealth and influence.
Baines' gaze swept the room, pausing on the nearest artifact.
'Father...'
It was his father's pride, the greatest relic his generation had gathered. However, now it was just a painful reminder of the man dragged away in chains. His chest tightened, grief and fury twisting together like a blade in his heart.
His eyes drifted to the far end of the chamber, where a lone artifact rested atop a weathered stone pedestal. It belonged to the founding ancestor of the Baek merchant dynasty. It both served as the beginning of their generational tradition and a symbol of their unbreakable legacy.
But Baines had no time for sentiment now.
He strode forward, his steps resolute, until he stood before the pedestal at the chamber's deepest point.
There it was—the greatest treasure of them all.
Unlike the other artifacts, shrouded in mystery and known only to the family head of each generation, this one was no secret. It was unknown who spilled the information; however, every descendant had heard the whispered tales, though few believed them.
Even now, standing before it, Baines felt a shiver of disbelief.
It was an eyeball.
Though it was no ordinary relic.
Surprisingly, it was the most extraordinary of them all. Pristine, unmarred by time, it gleamed with an unnatural clarity—white sclera, black retina, disturbingly lifelike.
'No one has ever confirmed its power,' Baines recalled, his breath shallow. 'But it is said to see the world in its rawest form. The All-Seeing Eye.'
This was his aim in coming here. In a world consumed by his thirst for revenge, he needed power—power beyond mortal limits, and for that, he would need the greatest artifact of all, and there was no artifact more fitting.
The truth was, this was the only item he knew of, and its use. The other relics' functions were secrets passed only to the next head of the family, and of four siblings and several other cousins, he was among the last in line.
He reached out, his trembling fingers closing around the eyeball. It was cold, smooth, impossibly perfect, as if it had never been touched by decay.
'How do I use it?' The question gnawed at him. 'Do I… remove my own eye?'
The thought was a cold spike of terror.
What if it didn't work? What if he mutilated himself for nothing? What if this was all a delusion, a desperate child's fantasy? Worst of all, what if he died?
He clenched his fist, banishing the doubts.
'My family is suffering. They're dying. And I'm standing here, hesitating over an eye.' There was no room for doubt.
Gritting his teeth, he growled, "If it doesn't work and I die, so be it. That's my reality. Then I'll know I have failed them." The thought of that scared him more than he thought.
His eyes darted around the chamber, landing on a dagger resting on a nearby crate.
Its blade was short, no more than twelve centimeters, its red-tinted steel etched with intricate carvings. The grip was plain black, unremarkable, yet it felt heavy with purpose as he grasped it with sweaty, shaking hands.
This blade would change his life—or end it.
Baines exhaled sharply, his face pale, his body taut with dread.
The thought of scarring himself, of risking everything, sent his heart pounding so fiercely he thought it might burst.
But his eyes burned with a fire that refused to waver. In his mind, he had already long taken the eye.
With a swift, trembling motion, he raised the dagger.
PSHTCH!
"ARGHHHH!"
White-hot agony erupted in his skull as the blade plunged into his right eye. Blood gushed, warm and sticky, flooding his face in a crimson veil. His knees buckled, and he instinctively raised his hand to staunch the wound, desperate to stop the searing pain.
He hadn't realized yet that he was using the same hand holding the dagger to cover the wound.
The dagger was gone.
But the pain was too overwhelming for him to process the anomaly.
He didn't notice, couldn't think—his mind was a storm of torment and regret. 'I shouldn't have…'
But there was no turning back. He had done the deed, and the result was instant.
Through the haze of pain, he forced his remaining eye to focus on the eyeball in his palm.
'Will it… work?'
There was no time for doubt. He had to do it. Whether he liked it or not. Whether it worked or not. Blood loss was draining him, pulling him toward oblivion. If he hesitated, he would die here, a failure to his family.
"RAAAARRGH!"
With a guttural cry of desperation, he shoved the All-Seeing Eye into the empty socket.
Another wave of agony tore through him, unimaginable pain surging through every nerve. The sensation of ripping out his own eye and forcing a foreign one into its place wasn't something just anyone could bear, and certainly not something a child's body was meant to bear.
His body convulsed, his screams echoing off the stone walls.
His vision blurred, his limbs grew heavy, and the world began to slip away.
No… not yet…
THUD.
He helplessly collapsed, his body crumpling to the cold floor.
As darkness closed in, a faint, otherworldly voice pierced his fading consciousness.
[USER HAS INJECTED 'EYE']
Ehh?
And then, the world went black.