The voice of the steel horror was harrowing. Not the kind of sound you hear — the kind you feel. It resonated in my eardrums, in my teeth, even in the bone behind my eyes.
Like an incessant call to action that never said what action. It went on too long. Far too long.
And then… something changed.
The wailing dark — too dark for anyone to see — broke.
As if it was fabric and someone took a knife to it.
It was unrealistic, and I knew how stupid that sounded.
You know when you look at a surrealist painting, like a Salvador Dalí — clocks melting, landscapes folding in on themselves — and someone asks you what you feel? Most people say "unsettled." That's what I felt, except multiplied. This didn't just unsettle me.
It threw a brick through the window of my preconceived notions on how the universe works.
It warped. It spiraled. It repeated an endless number of times — eternity in a single second. There was light, but also no-light.
I realized, with the kind of clarity you only get in nightmares, that moment when you realize you're dreaming but you can't wake up, that I was in purgatory. And whatever was happening before my eyes had zero interest in offering comfort.
Big discovery. Five out of ten experience. Mid afterlife.
I moved — or maybe waded — through the dark toward the fracture in reality. An interdimensional rift that did not tear through space or fold it into itself, but rather moved with its own sapience and consciousness, willing its authority unto the world.
The whole thing reminded me of the time I managed to claw my way up through the dirt after getting buried alive. Not a metaphor. Long story.
After purgatory came… paradise.
I looked down at myself and realized I was naked. Worse — I had a new body. Not stronger, not prettier, just… blank.
A nothing-body. Like a fresh sheet of paper that someone hadn't decided what to write on yet. Like a canvas no one had any intention to paint in. Is that a weird way to describe your new body? Probably. Although, getting a new body in and of itself is weirder.
In my back was something. Not a scar, it had no scarring, not a tattoo — an engraving. Like when you chip away at marble to carve words, except this was part of me. And somehow, without ever seeing it, I knew only I could read it.
Not that I could read it now. It was there the way an idea sits at the edge of your mind, waiting, but you can't seem to put it together.
Then I looked up. The light wasn't blinding — it was the kind of glow that belongs in dreams. A night sky with a thousand stars stared back at me. And the first word that came to mind was paradise.
"This is heaven, isn't it? Didn't think I'd make it here!" I said out loud, because apparently I'm the kind of guy who talks to himself in heaven.
I'd landed in a valley. No — a depression so wide it could be classified as a prairie. Grass — silver grass — stretched out like spilled moonlight. And far away, just beyond the shimmer, was a city.
From here, it looked like rumors of nirvana with walls. The buildings towered, taller than skyscrapers back home, glowing like lanterns in the dimness of an endless evening.
From the cliffs above, it might look like molten jade poured into a blacksmith's mold cast of a dream.
Tiled roofs bending under snow that never fully melts, streets paved with stone so ancient, they could've been the breakfast of some geophile.
Though maybe jade can't really be melted. Can it?
It was winter and autumn at the same time? No observation of mine could ever make it clear.
The air was thin, but clean in a way that almost hurt to breathe — like every lungful was shaming the smoke I'd inhaled in my past life. It was a mountains' air, smelling of plants found on some secret Eastern island.
Somewhere in the distance, bells rang without wind.
The city wasn't far. Just a few miles across the silver prairie.
And if heaven really was waiting for me there… well, it could wait a little longer. It was walking distance.
Anything is walking distance so long as you got time.
The latter part of my life was eaten away by the hopelessness of endless duties, none to myself. And if even for a moment, I felt relief. I was relieved of my duties now. I don't have to work any more. This is even better than retirement!
That moment was broken by a message from that deep. The same place the so-called king of broken swords came from.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
Designation: Envoy of the Outer Realms – Activation Confirmed.
"The blade you carry is not merely steel. It is a verdict. You will be the hand that delivers it."
Primary Directive:
As an Envoy, you are tasked to establish dominance and secure influence in the assigned realm, not by negotiation nor persuasion, but through supremacy in combat. The sword is your language; power, your currency. You are to bend the flow of fate until it aligns with the will of your benefactor.
Operational Clause:
Authority is not given—it is taken.
Your influence must be visible, undeniable, and unassailable.
Every defeat you deliver writes your name deeper into the marrow of this realm.
Fate Selection:
Every Envoy binds their mission to a chosen Fate. Fate will shape the manner in which you grow, the enemies you attract, and the legends that will follow your steps. Choose wisely—once bound, Fate will not unmake itself.
[ Immortal Ever-feeding Flame ]
[ True Sword Saint ]
[ Azure Heaven Dragon ]
Skill Tree: Flow of Inevitability
Your growth is not measured in numbers, but in the certainty of your victory. Paths are unlocked through battle, reputation, and decisive acts that alter the destiny of others.
Unlocked after choosing your fate.
Starting Gifts:
Basic Sword
Awakening of Spiritual Meridians
Mirror Heart Hollow Furnace Physique
[SYSTEM NOTICE]:
"To accept is to forsake return. An Envoy who hesitates dies forgotten. An Envoy who advances becomes eternal."
What now? This isn't heaven. This is just another op.
The second I fully read the blue panel floating and flashing across me, I reverted back to my old ways of thinking.
How much time do I have to pick?
Which Path is best for me?
In what ways can I uphold my duty?
What do I stand to truly gain?
Do I even know how to swing a sword?
What does the gifts mean?
It hit me. Why wasn't I questioning this? Why was I completely in the moment? How come I've accepted the situation so fast?
In that transition between worlds, that king might've cut off that part of me.
Or maybe with the gifting of this new body, my doubtful parts have been erased.
I picked the True Sword Saint Path. Azure Heaven Dragon seems way too grand, Immortal Flame doesn't fit someone like me. Envoy status isn't achieved through reputation or admiration or fear, it's through combat. This works.