The labyrinths
The labyrinths were not mere dungeons.
They were the remnants of divinity itself — sacred, cursed, and transcendent domains that once bore the presence of beings far beyond mortal comprehension.
Every labyrinth had once been a place where gods, demons, or transcendents had walked.
A temple of the divine, a battlefield of the damned, or a forgotten realm where existence itself had bent to the will of something greater.
And when those beings vanished from the world, they left behind fragments of their essence — artifacts.
These relics were more than simple objects.
They carried memories, emotions, and the will of their former wielders.
It was those lingering echoes — the divine or infernal energy sealed within — that twisted ordinary lands into endless mazes.
Each labyrinth reflected its origin:
some radiant and majestic, others steeped in shadow and madness.
But all of them shared one truth — within their depths lay the legacies of gods and devils, waiting for someone daring enough to claim them.
The air inside the labyrinth hummed with quiet menace.
Each corridor was dimly lit by glowing veins of crystal embedded in the walls, pulsing faintly like the heartbeat of some slumbering beast. The last time Chakra had stood in this place, every sound had filled him with dread — every shadow, a threat.
But now…
Now, the fear was gone.
His steps were steady, controlled. His senses sharp.
A snarl echoed from ahead. Three monsters crawled into view — pale, four-legged beasts with black, chitinous hides and glowing eyes. A week ago, even one of them would have been enough to end him. But this time, Chakra's fingers tightened around the hilt of his short sword with confidence.
"Let's see how far I've come," he whispered.
The first lunged — claws slicing through the air.
Chakra moved like water, ducking under its swipe and slashing its abdomen in one clean motion. His movements were faster now, more precise. The creature shrieked and collapsed before it even realized it was dying.
The second monster lunged, jaws wide —
[Skill: Temporal Halt (E)]
The world froze.
He stepped aside, breathing steadily. The seconds ticked away like grains of sand, and with calm precision, he drove his blade straight into the creature's skull.
When time resumed, the beast fell lifelessly at his feet.
"Still only thirty seconds," he murmured. "But that's enough."
The last creature hesitated — instincts screaming. Chakra's presence radiated something unnatural, like the quiet stillness before a storm. He raised his sword, his black eyes gleaming faintly with a hue that mirrored the ticking of the watch hidden in his pocket.
The battle ended before it began.
Hours passed.
Deeper and deeper, he descended into the maze — through twisting halls, over glowing bridges, past traps and illusions. Yet every battle ended the same: clean, controlled, victorious.
He was no longer the trembling boy who had stumbled through the dark. He was a hunter now.
A successor to something beyond mortal comprehension.
And still… something felt off.
The labyrinth was too quiet. The monsters, too few. The flow of mana — unnaturally stable.
It was as if the labyrinth itself had yielded to him.
As if something — or someone — was hiding its true nature.
When he reached the final chamber and the last guardian fell beneath his blade, the exit portal shimmered to life. He stood before it, panting lightly, sweat running down his brow.
"That's it?" he whispered. "No boss, no challenge?"
It was almost disappointing.
Still, as the glowing light enveloped him, he couldn't shake the strange sense that the labyrinth had watched him — and chosen silence.
When he stepped out into the open world again, sunlight blinded him for a moment.
Hunters and officers were already gathered around the labyrinth's perimeter.
And among them, the gray-coated members of IRO.
Their devices flickered with unstable readings, and worried murmurs rippled through the crowd.
"I don't get it," one researcher muttered. "The mana density dropped to zero during his run."
"Could the core have gone dormant?" another asked.
"Or was it suppressed?" the lead officer said quietly, glancing at Chakra.
He felt their eyes on him — cautious, analyzing.
He offered a polite nod and walked past, hiding the faint smirk tugging at his lips.
He didn't owe them answers.
Later that evening, Chakra stopped by the trader's market — a dimly lit row of stalls filled with relic explorers, smelters, and merchants eager to buy monster materials.
The spoils of his conquest clinked heavily in his bag — mana stones, beast fangs, and a few rare crystals that glowed faint blue.
By the time he left, his worn-out wallet had turned thick with currency chips.
For once, he didn't have to worry about paying rent.
Still, as he walked home under the dying sunset, his mind replayed the day's events.
The easy victory.
The strange stillness.
The feeling of being watched by something beyond the labyrinth's walls.
He didn't know it yet, but far behind him, the IRO investigators were in heated discussion.
"His readings don't match any recorded explorer," said one of the analysts, scrolling through his holographic screen. "It's like the labyrinth itself concealed its activity while he was inside."
The woman who had questioned Chakra earlier frowned. "Are you saying he caused the anomaly?"
"I'm saying," the analyst replied grimly, "whatever happened in there — the labyrinth didn't want us to see it."
A silence fell over the room.
And then, the woman muttered, "So… is he an ally who maintains balance? Or a threat that could destroy it?"
Her assistant hesitated before replying.
"We've seen both kinds before — the righteous ones… and the rogues."
Rogues.
The word carried weight in every explorer's heart.
They were the ones who had turned against humanity — those consumed by the power of cursed artifacts, relics that once belonged to demons and devils.
Each rogue was a calamity in human form, their souls twisted by the desires of the beings whose weapons they wielded.
But not all artifacts were born of darkness.
There were three kinds known to mankind:
Sacred Artifacts— weapons or relics that once belonged to gods. Their power was pure, radiant, but often too great for mortal vessels to withstand. Only those chosen by divine will could bear them.
Cursed Artifacts— the opposites, forged in the infernal realms and steeped in hatred. They granted tremendous power, but in return, devoured the wielder's sanity until nothing remained but ruin.
And then there were the rarest of all —
Transcendent Artifacts.
Relics that once belonged to beings who had surpassed godhood itself, transcending the balance of good and evil. Their power did not obey divine or demonic laws — it was something beyond comprehension.
And somewhere among those legends, one such artifact had already chosen a successor — a boy named Chakra.
When he reached home, night had fully settled over the city.
He set his bag down, placed the sealed watch on his desk, and sat cross-legged on the floor.
The faint light of the system window illuminated his tired face.
[Quest: Defeat the Past Phantom until Victory Becomes Certain – (8/10)]
[Skill Proficiency: Temporal Halt (63.2%)]
[Skill Proficiency: Temporal Reflection (22.9%)]
He exhaled deeply.
"Two more times…"
He stood, activating the skill once more.
Darkness bloomed, swallowing his room — and the phantom appeared again. The same monster that had once ended his life now charged forward in the illusionary arena of his own making.
He fought it relentlessly, each clash sharpening his instincts, each strike faster than before. His movements were smoother now — a reflection of his growth, of the time he'd spent grasping at the edge of divinity.
Minutes passed. Sweat dripped from his chin. He moved like a storm — unstoppable, focused.
And when the phantom vanished into smoke, leaving only the silence of victory behind—
[Quest Progress: 9/10]
He sighed, sitting back down on the floor.
A faint tick from the watch filled the room.
And then —
he sneezed.
"…Someone talking about me?" he muttered with a small, tired grin.
Outside, unseen by human eyes, the hands of the sealed watch twitched once
and the faint sound of a clock echoed across realms unseen.