The world was silent.
Not peace—never peace. The silence that follows slaughter, when even the air seems afraid to move.
The beast's corpse smoldered in the center of the ruined plaza, its bulk blotting out the fires that still licked at fallen stone. Smoke curled upward, black against a sky split by cracks. Its scales—once glowing with infernal heat—now flaked away like brittle charcoal. The stench was unbearable: burned flesh, scorched blood, and something acrid, unnatural.
I could still taste ash in the back of my throat. My ears rang with the phantom echo of its last roar.
The survivors staggered about in shock. Some collapsed where they stood. Others pressed their wounds in silence, too drained to cry out.
I remained on my feet only because the Inkblade demanded it.
The weapon throbbed in my grip like a heart ripped from a chest. Shadows oozed from its length, spreading across the cracked tiles. They writhed like snakes, tasting the air, reaching for the beast's corpse.
"…devour… claim… feast…"
The whispers clawed at my skull, louder than ever before.
✦
The shadows surged. They slithered across the plaza like hunting animals, latching onto the fallen beast. Smoke hissed as flesh and scale were stripped away, sucked into darkness.
The survivors recoiled in horror.
Kavya stumbled back, clutching her arms. "It's—it's eating it!"
The old man's face twisted in fury and fear. "I told you! That cursed thing doesn't serve him—it feeds on death!"
Even Dev took a step forward, sword half-raised as though unsure whether to defend me or stop me. His eyes flickered with unease.
I gritted my teeth, shoving the Inkblade down, forcing the shadows back. My arm trembled from the effort.
"Enough."
The word came out hoarse. The blade resisted, shivering like a starving beast denied prey.
For a heartbeat, I thought I couldn't stop it. That it would strip the beast to bone and then turn on us.
But slowly—reluctantly—the shadows retreated, coiling back into the blade with a hiss.
The whispers quieted.
Not gone. Never gone. Just waiting.
✦
[ First Arc Trial Complete. ][ Survivors Remaining: 12. ][ Rewards Distributed. ]
The system's words slashed through the silence, emotionless as ever.
For a moment, no one moved. Then light descended—twelve beams, one for each survivor. They wrapped around us, sinking into skin like liquid fire.
Gasps broke across the plaza.
The boy, Arjun, staggered as his staff glowed in his hands. The wood hardened, runes etching themselves into the surface. He almost dropped it before the mother caught his arm. His eyes widened, wonder breaking through exhaustion.
"I… I feel stronger," he whispered.
The mother's hand trembled as she held him, but her gaze was sharp. "Hold onto that. Don't waste it."
Kavya gritted her teeth as light gathered around her palms. Her daggers shimmered, reforging into slender blades of silver etched with faint patterns. She spun them once, testing their weight. A smile flickered—but then her eyes darted to me, suspicion clouding it.
The old man laughed bitterly as a crooked staff materialized in his hand, carved from bone and pulsing faintly with power. "Finally. Finally something worth carrying." He clutched it like a lifeline, though his eyes still burned at me.
Dev's reward was subtler but no less deadly. His battered sword cracked, then split apart. Light filled the fractures, reforging the blade anew. When the glow faded, the weapon gleamed—straight, sharp, balanced as though made for him alone. He swung it once, the air hissing with speed. His lips curved into the faintest smile.
Then came mine.
The Inkblade shrieked in my hand. Shadows burst outward, spiraling into the sky before slamming back down into the weapon.
My vision blurred. For a moment, I wasn't standing in the plaza but in a place of endless dark—an ocean of ink stretching in every direction. Whispers filled it, countless voices murmuring over one another.
"…devour… rewrite… ascend…"
The Inkblade's core flared, a sickly star in the void. It seared into me—not flesh, but deeper. Into marrow. Into thought.
I gasped, nearly falling. My knuckles whitened on the hilt as I forced the vision away.
When my sight cleared, the Inkblade was changed. The blade's surface was darker than shadow, swallowing light whole. Faint silver script crawled along its edge, shifting like living words.
A system notification pulsed:
[ Inkblade Awakened. Growth-type Weapon. ][ Stage 1 Complete. Bound to wielder: Ishaan Reed. ][ Warning: Growth requires devouring. ]
The words burned themselves into me, undeniable.
I tightened my grip, chest heaving.
Bound. Devouring. Growth.
Every syllable felt like a chain tightening.
✦
The survivors' reactions were immediate.
Kavya's face twisted. "That's not a weapon. That's a curse."
The old man nodded furiously, pointing his new staff at me like an accusation. "You saw it! It eats! It screams! What happens when it eats you, boy?"
Arjun stepped forward before I could answer, his voice trembling but firm. "He saved us. The blade saved us."
The mother pulled him back but said nothing. Her silence was heavier than either side.
Dev's gaze locked on mine, his reforged sword hanging at his side. "The blade may be cursed. But cursed or not, it's his. And it's the reason any of us are alive."
The tension thickened, sharp enough to cut.
I didn't speak. Couldn't. The whispers still rang in my head.
"…devour… break… become more…"
✦
[ Reward Distribution Complete. ][ Transitioning to next stage. ]
The words flickered across the sky.
But for me—only me—they stuttered, distorting, bleeding into each other like ink spilled on paper.
[ Act II Initiation… pending. ][ Stability… reduced. ][ Anchor probability… rising. ]
I blinked hard. When I looked again, the words were gone.
No one else had seen them.
Kavya was still glaring at me. The old man still muttered curses. Dev still watched, unreadable.
Only me.
Always only me.
✦
The survivors began to scatter, tending wounds, whispering in small clusters. None came near me.
I sank onto a cracked pillar, the Inkblade across my knees, shadows curling lazily around it. My body screamed for rest, but my mind was louder.
This wasn't a victory. Just another beginning.
And somewhere, beneath the whispers of the blade, I thought I heard something else.
A voice. Too faint to grasp. Too distant to name.
But colder. Older.
And it was waiting.
The fires burned low through the night.
We stayed in the ruins of the plaza, though no one slept well. The beast's corpse had finally dissolved into ash, leaving only claw marks gouged into stone and the memory of how close death had pressed against our throats.
The survivors clustered into uneasy groups. Kavya kept to herself, sharpening her new silver blades until sparks danced in the darkness. The old man leaned on his crooked staff, muttering bitter prayers, his eyes cutting toward me every few breaths.
The boy, Arjun, dozed against his mother's lap, his staff clutched so tight it left marks on his palms. The mother stroked his hair absently, gaze distant.
And Dev sat across from me, his reforged sword resting on his knees. He hadn't taken his eyes off me since nightfall.
✦
"Why didn't you let it feed?"
The words came suddenly, breaking the fragile silence. His voice was low, but everyone heard. Even Kavya's blades paused mid-spark.
I looked up. "Because it's not in control."
Dev tilted his head. "Or because you're afraid of what happens if it is?"
I didn't answer.
The old man barked a laugh, harsh and cracked. "He's afraid because he knows it'll eat him next."
Kavya didn't laugh. She didn't smile. She just kept sharpening her blades, her glare sharp enough to cut stone. "One day, that thing won't listen to you. And when that happens, we'll all be corpses."
Arjun stirred, rubbing his eyes. "You're wrong. He stopped it. He—he saved us."
The mother hushed him gently, but her eyes lingered on me, unreadable.
Dev's hand brushed the flat of his sword. Not a threat—just a reminder. "So long as you can stop it, Reed… you stay. The moment you can't—we put you down."
The shadows around the Inkblade writhed as though amused.
✦
[ Survivor trust decreasing. ][ Warning: Stability reduced. ]
The words bled across my vision, faint but sharp.
No one else flinched. No one else saw.
My jaw clenched. It was me again. Always me.
✦
Hours passed. Some survivors dozed in shifts, others sat stiffly awake. I didn't close my eyes once. The Inkblade pulsed against my palm like a second heartbeat.
Every time I tried to relax, the whispers stirred.
"…devour… rise… break more…"
And underneath them—so faint I almost thought it imagination—another voice.
Not the blade. Not the system.
Something colder. Patient.
"…not yet… soon…"
The hairs on my neck rose. I scanned the plaza, but nothing moved.
✦
Toward dawn, tempers frayed.
The old man snapped first, jabbing his staff into the ground. "We follow him, we die. Better to cast him out now before that cursed weapon decides we're dinner."
Kavya finally spoke, voice like steel. "He's dangerous. You've all seen it. How many times has the system glitched around him? How many times has he bent its rules?"
Murmurs rippled through the survivors. Heads nodded. Fear breeds agreement.
Dev stood, stepping into the center. "And how many of you would still be alive without him?"
Silence.
The boy's voice broke it, high and raw. "None of us."
The mother squeezed his shoulder, but didn't silence him this time.
Dev turned, scanning the group. "We don't have to trust him. But we follow him until this nightmare ends. Or until he falls."
Kavya's jaw tightened, but she didn't argue further. The old man spat into the ash, muttering curses.
The decision was fragile, temporary—but it held. For now.
✦
[ Stability: Critical. ][ Act II Initiation pending. ][ Prepare for Allegiance Selection. ]
The text carved itself across my sight, bright as fire.
I blinked hard. When my vision cleared, it was gone.
No one else reacted.
But I knew.
Something was coming.
And when it did, choice wouldn't save us.
The Inkblade pulsed against my hand. The whispers hissed.
And somewhere, buried under them all, that other voice whispered again.
"…soon…"