In that moment, what happened could not be described in words, for to Darius, it felt like a dream.
The black fire that burned everything rose with the screams of agony from the people. It surged and consumed all before it, covering the entire area of the gathering and burning everyone. It was no ordinary fire—it was a liquid darkness that engulfed the crowd, smothering their cries.
The place that had once been filled with a human multitude had turned into a massacre.
The flames vanished completely, and in their place appeared the blackened bodies of people—bodies that had turned into charred coal. It was a scene beyond human description.
Then, those remains began to dissipate, crumbling like autumn leaves, until they disappeared entirely before the eyes of Darius, who stood there in a state of human bewilderment that could only be described as a detachment of perception from reality.
His eyes were wide open, his facial expression unchanged—not out of cold indifference, but from the shock that follows revelation: the shock of not understanding what had happened, how it had happened, or why it had happened.
For an ordinary man like him, this was something that surpassed his comprehension—indeed, the comprehension of any ordinary person in his place.
As he stood in utter silence, watching the place around him where everything had vanished—now nothing but a black expanse that had erased every trace of life and matter—something like black flame swept past his left and right sides, snapping him out of the shock-induced stupor that had left him frozen and detached from reality.
He turned, and there in the sky, about thirty meters away, he saw a black being. Beneath its body burned an aura of black fire that merged with its dark, flame-like form. It had golden eyes and a mane of black, fiery hair that flared and drifted with the wind. The being gazed fixedly at Darius, who could not utter a word.
"The fire of ruin consumes all who possess even a speck of material distinction. And since you have survived, you are the most fitting among them to bear the Book of Kings."
It was a voice of such harshness that Darius had never heard before.
The black entity drew from his chest a book, black, with a half-crown depicted on its cover.
The book floated in the air about two meters above the entity's hand, motionless.
The entity then raised his hand, pointing directly at the book: "Open the pages of your rebellion for a new master. May this be the final era of the struggle between the First and Second Covenants."
He opened the pages of the book, and faint, interwoven whispers began to escape from within. A radiant glow burst forth, and the hand of the black entity descended like a sword toward Darius.
"Fusion."
The book slammed shut, and a dark aura erupted from it, darting with blinding speed toward Darius, who stood frozen in astonishment.
The black aura pierced into him before he could react, its swiftness overwhelming. A black void formed in his chest as the book descended and sank into him.
Darius let out a powerful scream—the pain was excruciating. He felt an unbearable weight pressing upon him, heavier than any mountain, a burden beyond comprehension.
The void vanished, his eyes turned white, and he struggled to regain control of himself—only to lose consciousness.
His ears caught faint, passing whispers—but since he was not fully conscious, their meaning eluded him.
He opened his eyes to see ages flashing before them like a reel: dragons, Dark creatures, armies clashing with flying arrows, celestial meteors, a world turned upside down—its sky the earth, and its earth the sky.
Suddenly, he opened his eyes again to find himself before a great pyramid, upon which rested an eye at its peak, and above it a vast black book.
Behind it, the sun rose, its light spreading from both sides.
"Do you have the resolve to stand against the world, O Chosen One?"
A voice spoke, its source unknown, yet Darius realized it came from the pyramid. In utter confusion, he asked:
"Who are you?"
"It matters not who we are. What matters is that we've found you, bearer of the Book of Kings. Do you possess the resolve to shatter the prophecy?"
"Prophecy? What are you talking about? I have nothing to do with any prophecy—send me back to where I was!"
"Do you accept, then?"
Darius could not fully grasp what the mysterious voice emanating from the pyramid meant—only that he knew he was not dreaming. For some reason, he felt no fear; he couldn't tell where this resolve came from, but what he desired now was simply to escape this enigmatic situation.
He spoke firmly: "Whatever your offer is, I refuse it."
"So be it... Activating the counter-contract. The rebel has accepted the Book of Kings—Rebellion Codex No. 6. Name: Darius Kayar."
Chains burst forth with force, seizing Darius by the neck, hands, and body. They did not hurt, yet their grip was unyielding. With a raised voice, he shouted,
"I haven't agreed to anything! What are you doing to me?"
"We thank you for accepting our offer, though its condition is refusal."
"Refusal? This is a blatant trick—release me."
"There is no turning back. To choose you is to defy the notion of acceptance. You are the most fitting vessel to bear the Book of Kings and the will of those who came before."
"I told you, release me."
"There is no need for anger. When you rise, you will become fully aware of who you are, and your life will be transformed. Just be patient."
From the Eye of the Pyramid, a luminous aura unfurled—like a halo—piercing Darius's vision and altering his very perception.
He began to see things he had never lived: majestic dragons roaring above the clouds, a sword descending from the heavens, worldwide devastation, blades standing upright upon the corpses of fallen armies, and the cawing of ravens.
It was as if memories were flashing before him at a blinding pace, far too swiftly for his mind to grasp them all.
He was falling from the sky—down into the sea, then through parallel dimensions—until he blinked, and his eyes opened to behold himself standing before vast armies of majestic black creatures.
Their forms were immense and varied: some towered higher than mountains, while others were only slightly smaller.
What stretched before him was a sight of countless legions—dark beings with wings, axes, and spears—standing still, their gazes fixed upon him.
Suddenly, as he watched them from atop the great mountain, a voice echoed:
"All of these await your liberation. This is your destiny, the chosen one—to return them to the world that was stripped from them by humankind."
"Salute our deliverer," proclaimed a colossal being.
Then, a roar erupted from the legions—an immeasurable chorus of voices, thunderous and awe-inspiring, shaking the very core of Darius's soul as he listened in trembling reverence.
He gazed upon the overwhelming scene before him—then everything faded, and he fell unconscious.