As the last vestiges of the Watcher's shadowy form evaporated into the air, Asher stood in the middle of the dungeon, his chest heaving with exertion. That suffocating suffusion that had hung in the air just seconds before now passed harmlessly as the beating of his heart reverberated around him. The dungeon core, now stabilized, provided a dim light to the room.
His hands still shook a little bit. Not fear — there had been no place for fear — but from the raw force that had coursed through him. He had controlled it. Directed it. Corralled it into the Watcher's shape and broke it. And now … he had felt the residue of that power in his very body, pulsing like a second heartbeat.
He had expected an awakening.
But not like this.
There was no rush of mana — no floating arcane force as he was accustomed to. This was something stranger, unencumbered. It didn't behave like magic. It was like the very concept of power had attached itself to him — an idea that belonged neither to the domain of magic, nor that of Hunters.
Was it his past life?
His body — the echo of who he had been — revived something inside him. Something deep. And yet, it seemed nothing like the experience he was used to in Eldoria.
"What am I?"
The question had been nagging at him for days now. From the instant he had arrived on this planet, he had felt like a stranger in this place. But now, now that he had faced the Watcher, now that he had drawn on this new power… that feeling was escalating.
His fingers twitched with the faintest crackling of energy dancing through his fingertips.
"You're not done yet."
Asher froze.
The voice was not from the Watcher — it was not the creature's last declaration. It was inside his head. Soft. Almost a whisper.
The same voice from the dungeon, the same one that had echoed through his mind when the Watcher had first spoken. The same that now retreated to the fringes of his mind."
"You think you're winning, but you haven't played the game yet. This world — this Rift — it's not simply about power. It's about control. And you will never master this power until you come to terms with what it is that you are. Except you embrace it — who you were."
Asher's chest tightened.
This voice was not just a memory.
It was something else.
A warning.
A promise.
For the first time since his rebirth, a gnawing discomfort crept into the air around him; an impression that things were being undone, even that his connection to this world was fraying. Rifts weren't meant to tear people away from alternate dimensions. Not unless there was something terribly wrong with this place.
And that meant one thing—
This was only the beginning.
Asher emerged from the dungeon's threshold and reentered the city, his feet meeting the gateway of New Vale. People rushed on the street, faces blank, lost in thought about nothing and everything. Skyscrapers rose above them, their glass windows glinting with the fading light of afternoon.
Asher couldn't shake the nagging hint of unease that had lodged in his chest, despite all the familiar urban sprawl.
He knew he had succeeded—littered the Rift, killed the Watcher, and even gotten control of whatever had woken up inside of him. But it afforded no satisfaction." No elation from victory. Not even a nagging sense of dread.
Asher looked around the street. His just-issued Freelancer ID draped limp from the pocket of his pants, intrinsic now rather than relevant. The world outside felt claustrophobic.
He couldn't quite shake the feeling that he was being watched.
"The power is already within you," the voice had said. And though he hadn't realized it at the time, those words had stayed with him. His body now, it felt like, held something much more dangerous than any weapon could. A power he was unable to fully control."
The same chaos that had been unleashed when he had broken the Watcher's form was now coiled up inside him like a feral fire waiting to be sparked.
"You are not done yet."
His own image, wavering in a nearby storefront window. His face had grown gaunt, eyes sunken, but there was something else in his gaze now that made it hungry.
Asher looked away.
He had no time to question it.
A New Contract
Eventually evening came, and Asher was seated back at the Freelancer Dispatch Center, prepared to accept his next contract.
The facility itself pinged less now, the azure light of the digital boards creasing off the cold walls. He approached the terminal; a new assignment had already entered his personal log.
Freelancer Contract: Rift – Anomaly Detection – Category-4
Mission: Clear the Rift and secure core retrieval.
William Evans * Date: January 22, 2034 * Occupation: Guardian * RP Level: 1 * Location: Industrial Zone, District B – Rift #451
Estimated Threat Level: High
Warning: High risk. Special preparation required.
Asher took a deep breath.
A Category-4 Rift was leagues beyond the Category-3 he had just finished. It wasn't just another dungeon crammed with monsters. It was a threatening outlier that could generate mid-tier or even high-tier bosses.
But he had no choice. If he wanted some answers — if he wanted to understand the strange energy building inside him — he'd have to go.
No guild would put forward a C-Rank for these types of solo missions. Which meant he would have to do it himself — alone — again.
As he accepted the contract, his communicator beeped, and a familiar face popped up on the screen.
Garret.
"Hey, kid," Garret's voice broke through the static. "You're accepting a Category-4 job, huh? Not sure you're ready for that, are you? Not a mission to screw around with."
Asher slid against the terminal. "I don't have a choice."
Garret laughed, but I could hear a note of caution in his voice. "Yeah, figured as much. Just don't get dead out there. We can't afford another Freelance casualty."
Asher smirked. "I'll be fine."
Garret's face fell silent and the screen went dark.
Asher sighed, shuffling his eyes over the screen again. He drummed his fingers against the terminal's edge.
He was no longer simply looking at the dungeons. He was staring down whatever was waiting for him—the force nibbling at the very fabric of this world. Whatever had come through the Rift along with him.
And he was going to do it his way.