"…"
"-___-"
Two figures stood silently in front of each other, the glowing blue screen floating between them.
One was a tall, pale-skinned boy with messy black hair and eyes dark enough to drown in. The other, a mountain of a man, easily nine feet tall, with unruly purple hair and sharp hazel eyes that simmered like molten metal.
Both were staring at the same thing, Omen's status.
[Status]
Name: Omen
Race: Demi-Human / Ghoul
Rank: ???
Gifts / Strengths: Mutation
Curse / Weakness: Overflow
The silence stretched for several long seconds until a low rumble rolled through the air.
Omen blinked, confused at first, until the sound turned into a deep, booming laugh that shook the white walls of the room.
"PFFFT—HAHAHAHAHAHA!!" Ivtaar was laughing. No, roaring. His massive stomach bounced with every laugh as he slapped his thigh hard enough to make the ground tremble.
Omen could only stand there, blinking up at him in disbelief, wondering what was so funny about what looked like a curse-ridden mess of a status.
If not for the passive realisation that this was not real and he was just inside a game, he would have been shocked on the spot at the absurdity of it.
Giving a wry smile to the giant man in front of him, he asked, "Is this a good status?"
Ivtaar's laughter grew louder, tears almost welling in his eyes. "Good? GOOD?! Hah! Minerva's going to choke on her tea when she hears this!"
The boy tilted his head, utterly lost. "Who's Minerva?"
Ivtaar grinned widely, his gold rings glinting under the white light. "A pain in my neck, that's who!
Always bragging about her perfect little summons and how her otherworlders always end up being geniuses or heroes. Hah! Let's see how peaceful she stays now!"
He laughed again, deep and satisfied, while Omen stood awkwardly in silence. The boy had no idea what was going on.
Half of what the giant said sounded like random gossip between immortals, but he decided it was safer not to interrupt him.
Finally, Ivtaar wiped a tear from his eye, still grinning ear to ear. "Boy, you really are something. A Ghoul, of all things. Haven't seen one in…centuries, maybe."
Omen blinked. "Ghoul? I still don't really understand what that even means."
Ivtaar's grin softened slightly, the humor fading from his face.
His deep voice dropped into something almost serious as he continued. "You'll know. When the time comes, you'll understand what you are and what kind of fate you carry.
If you're destined to know it, there's not a single thing in this world that can stop you."
The words hung in the Omen's ears, heavy and cryptic.
The boy wanted to ask more, but the look in Ivtaar's eyes made him stay quiet. There was something ancient there, something that told him the man wasn't joking.
Ivtaar turned his gaze back to the floating blue screen, his expression unreadable. "Listen carefully, kid.
The world of Sephora isn't kind to those who stand out. Your origins, the fact that you're part Ghoul…carry a dark and bloody history.
People won't welcome you for it. In fact, some might hunt you for it."
Omen's throat went dry. "H-hunt me?"
The giant nodded slowly. "That race…once almost devoured the world.
The balance barely survived. So, for now, keep that second half of your race hidden. At least until you're strong enough to defend yourself."
"How strong…?" Omen asked quietly.
Ivtaar smirked. "You'll know."
That didn't exactly make Omen feel any better, but he nodded anyway. "I understand."
"Good." Ivtaar's mood quickly shifted again, his serious tone melting back into amusement. "Now then, before I go ruin Minerva's morning, here."
He reached into his robe and pulled out something small and black. It was a medallion, dark, almost stone-like, but faintly glowing with violet patterns.
At the center, engraved in fine detail, was the body of a dragon, its eyes sharp and alive, glowing faint purple.
Ivtaar held it out between two massive fingers. "Take this."
Omen looked at it curiously while hesitating. "What is it?"
The giant placed it gently into Omen's palm, closing his hand around it with surprising care. "A medallion, you can think of it as my mark. Keep it safe until the day we meet again."
The boy turned it over in his hand, feeling the faint pulse of energy coming from within. "It's warm…"
"It should be," Ivtaar said proudly.
Omen nodded, holding it tightly. "Thank you. I really…don't know what to say."
Ivtaar grinned, his voice booming once again. "Say nothing. Just live long enough to return it to me. I'll know when that happens."
He gave a loud laugh again, stepping away from the pedestal, clearly in a hurry now. "Ah, Minerva's going to scream when she sees this record! A Ghoul, hah! A Ghoul! The peace she worked for—poof!"
Omen tilted his head. "You…really enjoy annoying her, don't you?"
The giant turned, his grin almost mischievous. "It's the only joy left in eternity, boy."
And with that, he raised one massive hand. A swirl of golden light enveloped him, spinning like a storm.
Omen flinched and took a step back, covering his face as the energy roared around the man's form.
"Live well, Omen of another world!" Ivtaar's voice thundered as his figure began to fade. "If fate's cruel enough to drag you here, then make it regret it!"
Before Omen could respond, Ivtaar vanished completely, leaving nothing behind but the faint hum of energy and the slowly spinning orb above the pedestal.
The room was silent again.
Omen stared at the space where the giant once stood, unsure what to think or feel. His thoughts were a mess.
He still wasn't sure if the gifts and curse he saw here were his real strengths and weakness or not.
After all, this mutation thingy seemed more likely to be related to this whole ghoul fiasco that draconian man was talking about.
Omen had become sure of that man's race when he'd seen the medallion.
As for this whole Ghoul scenario, Omen made a mental note to ask Rebekah to search more about if these gifts were indeed the same as our strengths in the real world or not.
The boy looked down at the medallion resting in his palm. It pulsed faintly, like it was breathing. "Guess it's just me now," he whispered.
He took a deep breath and turned to face the pedestal again. For a moment, everything felt still, too still.
Then, his vision blurred again. The room started spinning and Omen's knees buckled slightly as a wave of dizziness swept over him, stronger than before.
"What…what's happening—?"
A sharp beep echoed in his ears. The blue interface flickered back to life in front of him, brighter than ever.
[Tutorial Complete]
[Teleporting to a random city inside the Mortal Sky in 3 seconds]
[…3
...…2
1....]
A deafening BOOM tore through the room, swallowing the boy in pure, white light.
And just like that, Omen vanished.
***