The air was heavy.
Not with mist this time—but with silence that felt alive.
The last echoes of the ritual still pulsed faintly through the clearing. The soil was cracked and darkened where the serpent's power had once surged. The trees around them leaned as though afraid to breathe, their shadows bending toward the boy who now lay motionless at the center.
Then—he stirred.
Slowly, Valen's eyes opened.
The black within them was deeper now, sharper, as though the darkness itself had chosen a shape to rest in. A faint tremor rippled through the air, responding to the simple act of him breathing again.
His fingers twitched against the cold ground. A hum—not of sound, but of existence—answered from deep within his core.
And then, before him, something appeared.
A faint shimmer. Lines of light that were not light, forming symbols that burned and dissolved at the same time. They hovered there—silent, translucent, unreal.
[Status Display — Active]
Name: [Unknown]
Race: [Unknown]
Origin: [Classified / Restricted Access]
Age: —
Strength: 14
Agility: 18
Endurance: 12
Perception: 43
Intelligence: 25
Vitality: 17
Primary Ability: Abyssal Sovereignty — (97% Sealed)
Secondary: [—]
Authority Level: Unregistered
System State: Initial Awakening
The letters flickered, reforming once, twice—before stabilizing.
Valen's eyes traced each word, his expression unreadable.
But when he reached the line that read Name: [Unknown], a faint movement crossed his face. Not confusion. Not surprise. Just... stillness, too quiet to name.
He blinked slowly.
"Unknown," he murmured under his breath, the single word echoing faintly, as though testing its weight in the air.
Why?
He had said his name once. He had spoken it. Yet the world itself refused to remember.
A soft sound broke the silence—a rumble like stone sliding over stone. The great serpent had lifted one of its heads, eyes narrowing.
"What are you staring at, boy?" Keros' voice reverberated in his mind, deep and edged like distant thunder.
Valen didn't answer immediately.
He stood slowly, his dark hair falling across his face, the faint blue shimmer of the hovering display reflecting in his pupils. His head tilted slightly to the side, the smallest flicker of curiosity shadowing his detached eyes.
"You… don't see it?"
The words came out quiet, slow, almost mechanical.
Keros blinked. Three sets of eyes focused on him at once.
"See what?"
Valen tilted his head again—an almost childlike motion, unintentional but strangely disarming.
His black eyes reflected the serpent's towering form like twin mirrors of still water.
For a moment, the creature forgot to breathe.
That expression—so faint, so void of emotion, yet carrying a trace of innocent bewilderment—did something strange to the ancient beast. Keros had seen gods bleed and empires fall, but he had never once looked at something and thought… adorable.
He didn't say it aloud, of course. He wouldn't dare.
Valen's gaze turned back to the floating script, fingers moving slightly through the air where the faint lines shimmered.
"When I woke up," he said at last, "something appeared before my face. It's showing me… numbers. Words. Like they know more about me than I do."
Keros' three heads exchanged a glance—a ripple of unease passing through each.
"Numbers?" The serpent's tone was wary. "What kind of trick is that?"
"I don't know."
The answer came flat, emotionless, yet heavy with a quiet curiosity. "But it knows things even I don't."
The serpent slithered closer, coils sliding like thunder through the mist.
He peered down at the air before the boy's face—and saw nothing.
"Impossible," he muttered. "There is nothing there."
Valen's brows drew slightly together—barely visible, but the faintest shadow of confusion crept into his voice.
"You truly don't see it."
His fingers brushed the projection again, the faint glyphs rippling at his touch. A pulse responded in his chest—the same deep hum that had stirred since the ritual.
> [Abyssal Sovereignty — 97% Sealed]
Warning: Containment threshold unstable.
Awaiting synchronization.
Valen stared at the flickering line. The hum beneath his skin grew louder, as if the sealed power had heard its own name being spoken aloud.
Abyssal Sovereignty.
The words themselves carried weight. Like something ancient, regal—and forbidden.
He couldn't explain why, but the moment he read them, his instincts whispered a truth he didn't understand.
This wasn't power.
This was dominion.
And it was his.
The serpent felt it then—not the words, not the light, but the shift. The way the air pressed heavier, the shadows deepened, the silence grew aware.
Keros' pupils constricted.
"What… did you just awaken?"
Valen didn't answer.
He was still staring, black eyes reflecting the faint glow before him, his voice calm—too calm.
"I think it's… a part of me."
His hand drifted toward his chest. "But it's sealed."
The serpent's breath hissed out sharply, a thin line of smoke escaping from his fangs.
"To seal a power like that—it must be something beyond the lower domain."
Valen said nothing. His gaze never moved, still tracing the runes only he could see.
[Authority Level: Unregistered]
[Race: Unknown]
[Identity: Restricted Access]
The system's light dimmed faintly, then pulsed once, as though acknowledging his presence.
He looked back up at Keros, who was still studying him warily.
"Something changed," the serpent said quietly. "I felt it."
Valen only nodded once, slow and deliberate.
His voice came soft and even, as cold as it was calm.
"It's still sealed," he said. "And I don't think it wants to be."
The serpent didn't reply immediately. The three heads looked down upon him—this frail boy whose presence bent the air and defied every rule Keros had known.
Finally, the great creature let out a low, rumbling sigh.
"Then you will learn to control it… before it controls you."
Valen's black eyes lifted, reflecting the serpent's gaze like two dark mirrors of nothingness.
He simply said, "Then teach me."
For a moment, neither spoke. The wind pressed gently through the trees, carrying with it a whisper of something vast and unseen.
The serpent bowed its first head, a flicker of something almost like pride stirring beneath the ancient weariness of exile.
"As you wish," Keros rumbled.
"But remember, boy—out here, even the shadows have predators."
The system shimmered faintly, its last line flickering one final time.
[Synchronization in Progress...]
And then it vanished.
The forest exhaled once more.
And in that breath, a quiet bond between man and beast deepened—one the world itself had long forgotten how to name.