After the short conversation between Kael and Liora, Kael was still left with a head full of questions. Their exchange had flowed more naturally and lightly than he expected, yet something still felt... off. The reason for that unease lay hidden in the small details of Liora's behavior—especially the moment she took off her watch.
Liora gently reached into her pocket and slowly removed the watch from her left wrist. It looked nothing like any watch Kael had ever seen. It wasn't a traditional timepiece. It glowed in shades of deep, dark crimson, as if a flame burned within it. On its surface, a complex symbol resembling a dragon was engraved. Kael's eyes widened—this watch was not from any ordinary time.
He felt a rising tension. "What is that? Why does it look like that..." he wondered silently but didn't dare ask. He couldn't explain why, but something about it frightened him. As if asking about the watch would unlock forbidden doors, forcing him to pursue answers he wasn't ready for. So he simply watched in silence.
Liora glanced at the face of the watch once more, her brows furrowing slightly as she sighed.
"I need to get to work," she said, her voice a blend of urgency and calm. "Otherwise, I'll be late."
Kael flinched slightly upon hearing that. The worry inside him grew, but he couldn't bring himself to show it.
Liora slowly stood up. Her movements were graceful and deliberate, but as Kael watched her walk away, there was a questioning look in his eyes. Liora's steps were sharp and confident. She shoved her hand into her pocket, quickening her pace as though racing against time.
Kael leaned slightly forward where he sat, eyes locked on her. "Who is this woman?" he wondered. She seemed like someone who knew everything yet chose to say nothing. The crimson watch and dragon emblem… they felt like breadcrumbs in the narrative of her story.
While Kael wandered through the maze of his thoughts, that familiar, spine-chilling sound returned—piercing through the silence that had wrapped itself around him, the same voice he'd tried so hard to escape. This time, it was different. It wasn't just disturbing—it was terrifying. A cold dread spread through his chest. He had heard this sound twice before: first as a whisper echoing in his mind, and then, unmistakably, as something alive and real standing in front of him. Kael's heart pounded. "No, no... This can't be real," he thought, but fear echoed back inside him.
Thousands of questions and tangled emotions gnawed at his brain all at once—hope, fear, doubt, and belief mixing chaotically. Expectations, unease, and the unknown wrapped around him. Slowly, carefully, he turned his head to the left, toward the source of the sound. And there it was—right in front of him. It was proof that everything he had experienced hadn't been a dream.
Kael's eyes widened as he saw them—words, glowing in the air before him—terrifying yet mesmerizing texts that he couldn't look away from. The words were in his own language, written as if they were meant for him alone. He began to read, his heart racing as the words echoed in his mind:
"Divinity detected within you."
The phrase hit him like a weight. It sent tremors through his soul. He remembered fairy tales he had read as a child—it felt like these words had leapt out of one. "Detected within me? Divinity? Is this a joke?" he whispered to himself. He rubbed his eyes, struggling to believe what he was seeing.
Another line appeared next:
"Your ticket to the Realm of Alkaradia has been inscribed into your soul."
"The Realm of Alkaradia..." The phrase echoed in Kael's mind. He didn't know exactly what it meant, but logically, "realm" implied a region, another world. "So this is... another place. Another world," he thought.
But the part that confused him most was: "inscribed into your soul." It felt like he had lost control of his own life—that his fate had already been written. The sense that he was a pawn in someone else's game was more powerful than ever.
At that moment, the floating system windows began to flicker open and shut rapidly. Kael strained to read them, but the texts grew more and more blurry, overlapping. The structure of the messages was breaking down; comprehension slipped away.
His mind spiraled deeper into confusion, while his fear and curiosity surged. Finally, a section appeared clear enough to read:
Name: Kael
Age: 32
Title: #####
Skills: ?????
Race: #####
Then another section caught his eye—sharper and more direct than the rest. In a small red rectangle at the corner of the screen, written plainly:
Divinity: 1
Kael froze for a moment. "Divinity?" he whispered. The word felt both alien and strangely important. What did it mean? Divinity? It sounded like it had been pulled from a novel or a fantasy epic.
"Are you kidding me?" he grumbled inwardly. What did this mysterious term mean? Why was that the only thing showing? "Not even my race is listed—it's censored or something?" he thought angrily, and yet, the strangeness of it all made his confusion deeper.
XXXX
She walked down a distant, lightly fogged road. Her footsteps echoed on the cobblestone path, and the hazy sunlight glinted silver off the collar of her thin overcoat. People were around—some rushing to work, an elderly couple out for a walk, a few youths walking their dogs. But among them, one person stood out: Liora.
She stood apart from the crowd. Not just because of her beauty—though that alone was mesmerizing—but because of her very presence. Her facial features were so perfect they first drew admiration, but a second glance often revealed something eerie. Her beauty was too perfect… too unnatural.
Her long black hair flowed like strands of night, swaying with each step. Her eyes, beneath her dark brows, held a chilling depth—as if they could see into the darkness of one's soul. Her skin was as smooth as porcelain and pale, but it wasn't the coldness of ice—it was the coldness of something ancient.
People glanced at her as they passed. Some smiled shyly, others turned away quickly. Women watched her with envy; some men couldn't look away. But it wasn't just physical attraction at play. She had a pull. An unseen, unspoken presence. Like a relic carrying sacred weight.
Yet something strange stood out: Liora was speaking oddly.
There was no one beside her. No headphones in her ears. No phone in her hand. But as she walked, she slightly raised her head and muttered things under her breath, eyes fixed on the sky. Her lips moved quickly but softly. Her expression was serious, tinged with worry, like someone giving an account of something important.
To an average observer, this was a clear sign:
"A schizophrenic... maybe a homeless girl."
A man whispered to his wife, pointing at her:
— "Look at that. Talking to the air. Poor girl's probably not all there…"
His wife nudged him with her elbow:
— "Don't be so sure… maybe she's just drunk."
While eyes wandered curiously over her, Liora's voice carried just enough to be heard. Her words floated on the wind:
"I'm not sure... But yes... Maybe I should bring him there..."
She looked to the sky. For a brief instant, a red gleam flickered in her eyes, changing the air around her. The atmosphere grew heavier, as if the pressure had suddenly spiked. Birds went silent. The wind stopped.
"My Lord..." she whispered, still gazing upward.
"Should I bring him there?"
No one knew who she was talking to. But it was clear—she wasn't speaking to a human. It was as if she were in conversation with an invisible presence walking beside her. A higher mind, a voice, an authority... perhaps even a god?
Yes... There was something strange about Liora.
And as she slowly continued her walk, the same expression lingered in every eye left behind in her wake: admiration, curiosity... and a trace of fear.