Each step echoed like a heartbeat.
Lee Shin descended the spiral staircase carved from black stone, the air thick with the scent of dust and time. The blue light from the ring illuminated ancient engravings along the wall — warriors, beasts, and symbols of the old Ember Division.
His old insignia.
His old life.
The deeper he went, the stronger the hum of mana became. It vibrated beneath his feet, resonating with his pulse — with the ring.
How could this place still exist? he thought.
Fifteen years ago, he'd died in a dungeon collapse. The Ember Division had been wiped from history. The guilds called it an accident. But he'd known better. Someone had triggered that collapse. Someone powerful enough to bury the truth.
Now, that same emblem — the phoenix wrapped in flame — glowed faintly before him.
At the bottom of the stairs, the passage opened into a vast chamber. It was half-collapsed, overgrown with crystalline vines that pulsed faintly with mana. In the center stood a long-dead command table, cracked and buried beneath layers of dust.
And on it — lay four rusted swords.
His breath caught.
He recognized each one.
Kang Taemin's longsword.
Eun-ji's dual daggers.
Haneul's spear.
And his own — broken clean in two.
Shin approached slowly, fingers trembling. The memories came rushing back in flashes — his squad fighting side by side, laughter echoing through campfires, his captain's hand gripping his shoulder before the final descent.
Then, screams.
Fire.
Betrayal.
He reached for the broken sword, and the ring blazed in response. The air around him shimmered, twisting.
A figure began to form — a flicker of blue light, shaped like a man in full armor. His old face, older and scarred, looked back at him.
Ryu Min-Seok.
His own echo.
The phantom spoke in a voice filled with weary strength.
"You shouldn't have returned here."
Shin swallowed hard. "So this is what's left of me?"
"A memory bound to the fragment. The Ember Division's resting place became your prison — until the ring found a new bearer."
The echo circled him slowly. "You've begun awakening again, but your strength is incomplete. The second fragment lies above ground — within the heart of betrayal."
"The academy?" Shin asked.
The echo nodded. "The academy was built atop our grave, Shin. Your father's guild helped fund it. They buried what really happened down here — and called it progress."
The words hit him like a blade.
He staggered back, disbelief etched across his face. "You're saying Father knew?"
"He knew. They all did." The echo's voice darkened. "They needed a scapegoat. And they found one in you — the youngest commander who dared question them."
Shin clenched his fists until his nails dug into his palms. All those years… the shame, the whispers, the way his family treated him like filth. It all stemmed from this. From a lie crafted to protect the powerful.
The echo placed a hand on his shoulder. "You were never weak. You were made to be."
For a moment, the two versions of him — past and present — stood face to face. The younger Shin's eyes burned with the same defiance the older one once carried before it was crushed by death.
The echo smiled faintly. "When you rise again, remember this — strength without purpose is destruction. But strength for others? That's rebirth."
The light began to fade.
"Wait!" Shin shouted. "How do I find the next fragment?"
"Follow the corruption. It always hides behind honor."
The echo vanished into dust.
Silence filled the chamber once more.
Shin stood there, breathing hard, his reflection flickering faintly in the cracked crystal walls. He felt something inside him shift — not just power, but clarity.
The Ember Division had died for truth.
He would live for it.
He looked down at the broken sword on the table. The ring pulsed once, and a thin strand of blue light wrapped around the blade. The cracks began to seal, reforging the weapon into a gleaming, obsidian-edged longsword etched with the same phoenix symbol.
A weapon reborn from ashes — just like him.
Shin sheathed it carefully.
"Then I'll finish what we started."
He turned back toward the staircase, ready to climb — when the ground beneath him trembled. A low, guttural growl echoed through the ruins.
From the shadows behind the broken pillars emerged figures — humanoid, armored, faces hidden beneath cracked masks. Their eyes glowed faint red, and mana leaked from their wounds.
"Wraith Knights…" Shin muttered. "The fallen of Ember Division."
They moved like ghosts — silent, precise, deadly.
He drew his sword. "If this is what's left of you… then let me set you free."
The first wraith lunged. Shin sidestepped, slicing through its core in a flash of blue. The ring flared brighter, syncing with his blade. Every movement was instinctive now — refined through memories not of this life, but the last.
More came. He cut them down one by one, the blue fire of his sword cleansing the black mist that poured from their armor. Each soul that vanished whispered his name like a benediction.
When the last one fell, the chamber grew silent once more. The air felt lighter — cleansed.
He dropped to one knee, panting, sword pressed against the stone. The ring cooled to a steady pulse.
"Rest now," he whispered. "You fought enough for one lifetime."
He rose and made his way back toward the spiral stairs. But this time, he didn't feel like the same boy who'd fallen. The weak, hesitant Lee Shin was fading — replaced by the man who once led warriors through impossible battles.
As he climbed, he could already sense the shift above. The labyrinth's structure trembled, mana currents twisting violently. The surface battle was reaching its peak.
And among those mana signatures — one stood out.
Cold. Familiar. Arrogant.
His half-brother.
Shin smirked faintly. "Perfect timing."
The ring glowed brighter, responding to his rising aura.
When he stepped back into the upper levels, he wouldn't just be another weakling from Class D.
He would be something none of them — not even his father's guild — were ready to face.