Kyle moved carefully between the rocks, every step calculated, every movement in the darkness watched with care.
The abyss was not just a dark emptiness…
It was a living presence, heavy, pressing against his chest, whispering in voices no one else could hear.
Every echo, every tremor of the ground, every small movement in the shadows—he began to understand them little by little.
Fear was no longer an obstacle.
It had become a tool, a new sense, something that guided him to survive.
Then he noticed something shining faintly in the darkness.
He approached slowly, his hands trembling.
Before him lay a massive sword, resting on the ground, far heavier than any ordinary human could imagine lifting.
Its blade was wide and long, and its hilt was thick, as if it had been made for someone far stronger than him.
He tried to lift it… it moved only a few centimeters.
It fell back again, and he nearly lost his balance.
Yet he felt something strange: the sword was… waiting.
As if it knew it had chosen him, even though he was not ready.
He sat beside it, watching the darkness around him, every shift of air, every shadow.
The abyss itself seemed to be testing him, giving him a chance to understand something important:
strength is not just muscle… it is patience, understanding, and perseverance.
He lifted the sword again, every muscle in his body working, every inner fear turning into focus.
The sword moved slowly, but it moved.
He smiled faintly—not in joy, but in realization, as the first signs of strength began to form within him.
He sat on a rock, the sword beside him, its weight still real but no longer a burden.
And inside him, the inner voice whispered once more:
this is only the beginning… something inside you has started to awaken.