He didn't wake up. He descended. Slowly, like something pulling him deeper than sleep ever could. Like falling into a dream that bled. Everything around him bled shadow. Black fog, endless, swallowing light and warmth until all that remained was the echo of his own breath.
Coker stood in that abyss, barefoot. The floor below was soft, like dust made from memories. It pulsed faintly, almost like it was alive, like the shadow beneath his feet was breathing. Every step felt like walking across a grave, and yet he kept going, heart whispering and limbs numb.
He wasn't alone.
The air was filled with a hum. A low vibration, like the muttering of beasts that couldn't be seen. Their breath passed over his neck, sharp and cold, but never touched him. They watched. They circled. They waited.
Then—he saw it.
Vorakh.
Not in chains. Not bound. Not screaming. Just standing. Towering, motionless, like a forgotten statue carved from the bones of darkness. Its eyes weren't glowing—they were closed. It wasn't angry. It wasn't violent. It was calm. Still. Too still.
And then it spoke.
Not with its mouth.
With everything.
"Coker."
His name cracked through the void like thunder breaking stone. It wasn't a voice. It was a revelation.
"You are not just my cage."
The shadows twisted. Images began to form in the dark. Visions. Echoes. Thousands of them. Children abandoned. Names erased. Power stolen. Faces shamed. Each vision more broken than the last. And all of them… all of them looked like him.
Empty eyes.
Empty names.
Empty futures.
Vorakh stepped forward. The shadows obeyed him like soldiers bowing to a king.
"You carry more than me. You carry the memory of every forgotten beast. Every curse left to rot. Every weapon too dangerous to name."
Coker's fists tightened. He wanted to cry but the tears didn't come. Not because he wasn't sad.
Because crying would make it real.
And he wasn't ready for real.
The beast kept walking toward him, and with each step, Coker felt smaller. But it wasn't fear. Not anymore.
It was understanding.
For the first time, he knew—Vorakh wasn't inside him to destroy him.
Vorakh was waiting.
Waiting for him to be ready.
"Why now?" Coker asked.
The silence that followed wasn't silence at all. It was the scream of a thousand unspoken truths.
"Because now… you've bled enough."
And just like that, the battlefield unfolded.
Not stone.
Not sand.
But bones.
Skulls stretched to the horizon. Spines coiled like rivers. Every bone had something carved into it—names. Titles. And all of them crossed out, erased like mistakes.
"This is where power goes to die." Vorakh said.
The wind picked up. Ash and dust whispered names Coker couldn't understand, yet somehow… recognized.
He walked. Past giants. Past dragons. Past things that were never meant to exist. And each one bowed—not to Vorakh, but to him.
He didn't ask why. He already knew.
Because he was the one who could hear them.
Because he was born with no name, and yet... never truly empty.
Vorakh's voice returned, closer now.
"The world calls you E-Rank because it fears what you are. It needs to keep you beneath them so they can sleep."
Coker stared at the bones.
"Then I'll wake them."
Vorakh stopped.
A flicker of surprise. Or maybe pride.
Then it tore open its own chest.
No blood.
Just power.
Raw, silver-black, pulsing like a heart stolen from something divine.
"Take this." it said. "Not as my jailer. As my kin."
Coker reached forward—and the shard slipped into his chest like it belonged there. No pain. Just weight. He could feel it instantly.
The presence.
The eyes.
The beasts.
And none of them hated him.
They were waiting.
Waiting for him to lead.
The sky exploded.
Not in color—but in cracks. Like a mirror finally breaking. From those cracks poured stars. Silver, corrupted, dancing with the echoes of beasts long dead and not quite gone.
Coker dropped to his knees, overwhelmed.
Not in defeat.
In awakening.
His skin cracked with veins of black light. His shadow pulsed and lengthened, stretching into forms. Arms. Wings. Horns. Dozens of beast shapes flickered behind him.
Vorakh lowered its head.
"You are no longer one."
"You are many."
"You are the voice of every sealed mouth."
"You are the rage of every forgotten soul."
"You are the first."
"The last."
"The Master."
Coker stood, slower than before. But when he did, the earth beneath him trembled. He wasn't trembling anymore.
He was being remembered.
The silver in his eyes became flame. His heartbeat echoed like war drums. The beasts that had followed him silently now roared.
And for the first time…
The world above blinked.
Because something had shifted.
Something had woken.