[ 2200 words ]
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Noctis stared at the empty air in front of him for a long moment.
Then he sighed.
"…You're enjoying this," he said.
There was a pause.
Not the awkward kind.
The deliberate kind.
Then laughter spilled into his mind—light, unrestrained, unmistakably amused.
"Oh, very much so!"
He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the stone wall.
"I get executed. Betrayed. Decapitated. I wake up younger in my own bedroom. And the mysterious voice in my head is having a good time."
"You say that like it's unreasonable."
He opened one eye.
"It's a little rude."
"Oh please," the voice said breezily. "If I wanted to be rude, I would have woken you up halfway through the execution."
He paused.
"…You're joking," he said carefully.
"I am not."
Silence.
Then Noctis laughed—short, sharp, genuinely entertained.
"…Alright," he said. "You win this round."
"I usually do."She sounded pleased.
He pushed off the wall and walked slowly across the room, eyes drifting to the mirror again.
The boy looking back at him—sharp-eyed, handsome, irritatingly intact—raised an eyebrow as if silently judging him.
"Let's establish something before this gets out of hand," Noctis said. "You already know who I am. I don't know who—or what—you are. That puts us at an imbalance."
"Mmm," she hummed. "Already negotiating."
"Habit," he replied lightly. "Also survival."
Another soft laugh.
"Ara Ara , In that case you may call me Eclipse ~"
He tilted his head.
"That's not a name."
"Neither is Noctis," she shot back. "It's a title your parents thought sounded dramatic."
"…Fair," he conceded.
He folded his arms, posture relaxed but attentive, like a man humoring a very interesting blade.
"So, ...Eclipse. Are you a god?"
" Oh absolutely ! "
He waited."…And?"
"And what?"
"And the part where you explain why a god is poking around in my skull instead of ruling the heavens or smiting heretics."
She made a thoughtful sound.
"Because ruling is boring, smiting is repetitive, and watching the world pretend it's stable is exhausting."
"That sounds like a personal problem."
"Everything is a personal problem when you live long enough."
He snorted quietly.
"Right. Ancient. Powerful. Slightly unhinged. Checks out."
"I prefer 'selectively engaged.'"
"Of course you do."
Noctis moved back toward the desk and sat on its edge, one leg dangling loosely.
"So let's skip the mystery for a moment. I died."
"Yes."
"And I'm here."
"Also yes."
"And this isn't an illusion, a dream, or a punishment."
"Correct."
He tapped his fingers once against the wood.
"…Then why me?"
There it was.
The amusement dimmed—not vanished, just pulled back slightly, like a cat pausing mid-play.
"Because you didn't beg," Eclipse said.
He blinked.
"…What?"
"At the end," she continued, voice quieter now, "you didn't plead. You didn't curse the heavens. You didn't even ask why."
His jaw tightened for just a fraction of a second.
"I already knew why," he said calmly.
"Exactly."
Silence settled between them—not empty, but weighted.
Then Eclipse spoke again, lighter this time, clearly choosing to lift the mood.
"Also, you were entertaining."
He let out a breath that was half laugh, half scoff.
"I get executed for being inconvenient and resurrected for being amusing. That's poetic."
"I try to maintain thematic consistency."
"Noted."
He turned toward the center of the room.
"Alright," he said. "You've convinced me you're not imaginary. Now convince me you're useful."
There was a pause.
Then the air in front of him shifted.
Not violently.
Not dramatically.
It was like reality blinked.
__________
Synchronization in progress...
User: Noctis Ravencroft
Existence Status: Irregular (Regressed Variable)
----------------------------------
[ECLIPSE POINTS]
EP: 500
----------------------------------
[NOTICE]
First-Time Synchronization Reward Available.
_______________
Noctis stared.
Once.
Twice.
"…damn , You really are keeping score," he said slowly.
Eclipse sounded s smug. "Of course. How else would I know if you're worth the investment?"
"How Charming."
"Oh, don't pretend you don't like it."
He didn't deny that.
Instead, he stepped closer, eyes narrowing slightly—not in suspicion, but fascination.
"This 'interference'," he said. "Only I can see it?"
"For now."
"…For now," he repeated.
The panel shifted.
_________
[SKILL ACQUIRED]
Monarch's Brain (Passive)
• Mental clarity enhanced
• Emotional suppression under stress
• Resistance to mental interference
• Decision-making efficiency increase D
___________
The moment it settled, Noctis felt it.
Not as a rush of power.
But as quiet.
The noise inside his head—memories, instincts, emotions layered atop one another—did not disappear. They aligned.
Ordered themselves. Gave him space to breathe.
He inhaled slowly."…Oh," he murmured. "That's dangerous."
Eclipse laughed, clearly delighted."You're welcome."
"No," he said, eyes glinting faintly. "You've given me something I didn't have even at my peak."
"Control?"
"Perspective."
He closed his eyes.
The execution surfaced again.
The platform.
The crowd.
Seren's voice.
This time, it didn't tear at him.
It sat quietly—cold, sharp, useful.
He opened his eyes.
"…I see why you named it that," he said.
"Monarch's Brain?" Eclipse replied. "I thought you'd appreciate the drama."
"I do," he admitted. "It's pretentious."
"Pot, meet kettle."
He chuckled.
Then his gaze drifted lower on the panel—toward a section that felt heavier, denser, even though nothing was written there yet.
"…There's more," he said.
Eclipse's voice softened—just a little.
"Yes."
The panel responded to his attention.
____________
[ATTRIBUTES]
Strength : 12
Agility : 13
Endurance : 12
Mana : 14
Perception : 15
Mind : 18
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[CATEGORIES]
• Mind — Available
• Combat — Locked
• Sword Arts — Locked
• Magic — Locked
• Consumables — Limited-time
_____________
He studied the numbers.
Not with greed.
With calculation.
"…Average," he said after a moment.
Eclipse made an offended noise.
"Excuse you?"
"These stats," he clarified. "They're not impressive. They're… normal."
"Precisely."
He smiled.
That pleased her far more than flattery ever could.
"This isn't about making you strong,"
Eclipse said. "It's about letting you choose how to become significant."
"And the points?" he asked.
"Earned," she replied. "Through effort. Through disruption. Through doing things the world doesn't expect."
His eyes flickered.
"…Like lying."
"Oh, especially lying."
A slow smile spread across his face.
"And if I do something particularly… memorable?"
Her voice dropped, delighted.
"Then you are named."
The panel trembled faintly, revealing a final section—empty, but waiting.
_________
TITLE :
None Acquired
____________
"…Titles," Noctis murmured.
"Reputation made real," Eclipse said. "The world listening when it shouldn't."
He exhaled slowly.
"…You're dangerous."
"I've been told."
He straightened, rolling his shoulders once, posture relaxed, confidence settling naturally into place—not arrogance, not bravado.
Certainty.
"Alright," Noctis said calmly. "Here are my terms."
"Oh, I love terms."
"I won't rush. I won't chase power blindly. And I won't let this turn me sloppy."
Eclipse laughed softly.
"Good. Sloppy legends don't last."
"And," he added, eyes glinting faintly, "I won't play hero."
There was a beat.
Then—
"Oh thank the stars," Eclipse said. "Heroes are exhausting."
Noctis smiled—sharp, amused, inevitable.
"Then let's take our time," he said. "I intend to become a problem."
Somewhere within the system, something shifted.
Not a reward.
Not yet.
But interest.
-----------
The corridor outside Noctis' chambers was silent.
Not empty—disciplined.
The stone beneath his feet was dark, polished smooth by centuries of boots and blood alike. The walls were lined with banners, each bearing the same sigil: a raven with wings half-spread, talons clenched around a sword pointed downward. Not raised in threat. Not lowered in submission.
At rest.
That alone spoke volumes.
Noctis paused just beyond his doorway, fingers brushing lightly against the carved stone frame. The air here felt heavier than it had inside his room—subtly so, but unmistakably. It was not magical pressure, nor killing intent.
It was authority, soaked into the very stones.
Servants moved through the corridor with measured steps, backs straight, eyes lowered just enough to show respect without fear. When they noticed him, they stopped immediately.
"Young Lord."
The greeting was unified. Crisp. Practiced.
Noctis inclined his head once, neither hurried nor indulgent.
"At ease."
They moved again only after he passed.
Good, he thought.
The house still remembers how to stand.
As he walked, his senses catalogued everything automatically—habit ingrained from a life where survival depended on reading spaces faster than others read books.
Two guards at the eastern turn.
One mage presence above—watchful, restrained.
No unnecessary movement. No wasted noise.
House Ravencroft had not softened.
The staircase leading down to the grand hall came into view, wide and gently curved, flanked by stone balustrades engraved with names.
Generations of Ravencrofts.
Dukes.
Commanders.
Champions.
Some names he remembered.
Some he did not.
He descended without haste.
With each step downward, the pressure grew—not oppressive, but present. Like approaching the eye of a storm that had learned patience.
Voices echoed faintly from below.
Deep.
Controlled.
Few.
When Noctis stepped into the grand hall, the first thing that struck him was not the people.
It was the stillness.
The hall was vast—high vaulted ceiling, thick stone pillars carved with runic reinforcement, long banners descending like wings folded at rest.
Morning light poured in through arched windows, but even the sunlight seemed subdued here, as if it knew better than to intrude.
At the center stood a long table of dark ironwood.
Around it were knights.
Not many.
Seven.
And that was enough.
They stood or sat in perfect discipline, armor dark and unadorned save for the silver raven crest over the heart.
Their presence distorted the air subtly—not through aura flaring, but through contained power.
These were not ceremonial guards.
These were the blades that kept the east breathing.
At the head of the table stood a man.
He was tall—over six feet—with a broad, solid build that spoke of strength earned, not maintained.
His dark hair was tied back neatly, streaked faintly with silver not from age, but from long years of strain.
His eyes were steel-gray, sharp and steady, scanning reports laid before him without hurry.
He wore no armor.
Only a long black coat reinforced at the shoulders, trimmed in silver thread, worn over simple but immaculate attire.
And yet—
The room bent around him.
Not from fear.
From recognition.
This was the pillar.
When he shifted his stance, the knights adjusted without conscious thought. When he looked up, conversation died instantly.
This was the strongest presence in the hall.
The Duke of House Ravencroft.
The man lifted his gaze.
Steel met violet.
For the briefest moment, nothing moved.
Then—
"Noctis."
The voice was deep, calm, resonant. Not loud. It did not need to be.
Noctis stepped forward.
Every knight in the hall straightened by a fraction.
Not in alarm.
In acknowledgment.
He stopped a respectful distance away and bowed—not deeply, but properly.
"Father."
The Duke studied him carefully—not like a parent checking on a child, but like a commander assessing a blade long left sheathed.
Alive.
Balanced.
Whole.
A flicker passed through his eyes—gone in an instant.
"You are standing straighter," the Duke said at last.
Noctis smiled faintly.
"I slept well."
A pause.
Then the Duke nodded once.
"Good."
Only then did he turn slightly, addressing the hall.
"You may resume."
The pressure eased—but did not vanish.
This was Alaric Ravencroft, Duke of the Eastern March, Warden of the Blackthorn Pass, and the strongest warrior within his domain. A man whose authority was not inherited, but proven.
Only after that did the knights speak again.
"Good morning, Young Lord," said a man with a scar running from brow to jaw, his posture rigid as iron. His armor bore additional markings—rank sigils etched into the silver trim.
This was the Knight Commander, the one who spoke only when necessary.
Noctis inclined his head slightly.
"Commander."
The man nodded once, satisfied.
Another knight—taller, broader, arms crossed—allowed himself a faint smirk.
"You look sharper," he said. "Didn't expect that before midday."
Noctis glanced at him.
"I am aiming to disappoint expectations."
A few knights allowed themselves restrained smiles.
The Duke returned to his reports, satisfied enough to let the exchange happen.
Then—
"Noctis!"
The voice cut through the hall like a thrown dagger—bright, energetic, entirely unafraid.
Boots struck stone in quick succession.
A girl entered the hall at a near run.
She was fifteen, slender but athletic, dark hair tied back carelessly, silver eyes vivid with life and defiance. She wore a light training outfit rather than formal attire, sleeves rolled up, posture unrestrained.
And yet—
The knights did not scowl.
They did not correct her.
They simply made space.
Because this was Iris Ravencroft.
Adopted daughter of the Duke.
And very much a part of the house.
She skidded to a stop when she saw Noctis.
Her eyes widened.
"You're awake," she blurted out, then froze. "…Early."
Noctis turned, eyebrow lifting slightly.
"Is that disappointment I hear?"
Her ears turned pink.
"I was worried," she said quickly. "You didn't come find me."
He leaned back slightly, hands clasped behind him.
"I wanted to enjoy the silence while it lasted."
She scoffed.
"Rude."
Then she stepped closer, lowering her voice despite the hall.
"…You feel different."
The Duke's gaze flicked toward them—not sharply, but attentively.
Noctis met Iris' eyes.
"…I'm fine," he said.
She studied him for a long moment, then smiled—soft, relieved.
"Good."
Only then did the Duke speak again.
"Iris," Alaric said calmly, "compose yourself."
She straightened instantly.
"Yes, Father."
Noctis suppressed a smile.
Good, he thought again.
Nothing broke yet.
Breakfast was announced.
Servants entered. The hall resumed its rhythm.
As Noctis took his place at the table, he felt it clearly now—
The weight of House Ravencroft.
And for the first time since his death—
He felt ready to carry it again.
.
.
.
.[A/N :- Do show some support guys , Thankyou for reading .]