Aden's first thought was that he should be dead.
His second thought was that he wasn't.
The last thing he remembered was the guardian's blade descending, the temple's symbols flaring to life, and then darkness.
Now, he was lying on cold stone, his body aching but whole. His breathing was slow and steady, his fingers twitching as he pushed himself up. The torches along the walls flickered weakly, their glow dimmer than before. The temple felt different.
As if something had changed.
Aden staggered to his feet, eyes scanning the chamber. The guardian was gone. The massive sword that had nearly ended his life lay shattered on the ground, its once-glowing edge now dull and lifeless.
Had he won?
No. He hadn't even fought. Something else had happened. Something he couldn't explain.
He looked down at his hands. The strange glow from before had faded, but the feeling remained. A lingering echo of something foreign yet familiar.
And then, the whisper returned.
Arthur.
Aden frowned. The name meant nothing to him.
"Who the hell is Arthur?" he muttered.
Silence.
Shaking off the unease creeping up his spine, he focused on the reason he had come here in the first place. His job wasn't done. He had come to retrieve something, and he wasn't leaving empty-handed. Not after everything he had just survived.
At the far end of the chamber, an altar stood against the cracked stone wall, covered in dust and surrounded by glowing inscriptions. At its center lay an obsidian tablet, its surface etched with the same symbols that had flared to life earlier.
Aden reached out. The moment his fingers brushed the surface, a sharp pulse ran through his body.
His vision blurred.
And then
---
A Different Time, A Different World
Two centuries ago.
The battlefield was drenched in blood, the sky torn apart by streaks of fire and lightning. Warriors clashed, some wielding blades and spears, others summoning forces beyond human comprehension.
At the center of the chaos stood a lone figure.
His armor was scorched, his breathing ragged, but his eyes burned with determination. He wasn't like the others his power didn't come from the System.
No, it came from something else.
Something older.
A warlord in golden armor loomed before him, his sword crackling with power. The warriors around them paused, waiting, as if they knew this moment was more than just a battle.
The lone figure tightened his grip on his blade. His lips moved, though Aden couldn't hear his words.
And then
The world shattered.
---
Aden Stumbles Back
Aden gasped, his vision snapping back to the temple. His hands trembled as he clutched the tablet, his heart hammering in his chest.
"What the hell was that?" he whispered.
It wasn't a dream. It felt real. The heat of the battlefield, the weight of the blade, the tension in the air he had seen it all as if he were there.
But he wasn't.
He had been an observer, watching something long gone.
And the worst part?
The name Arthur still echoed in his mind, but not as his own.
Whoever Arthur was… he had been real.
And if this tablet was showing his past, then maybe there were more truths buried in these ruins than Aden had been led to believe.
And that meant one thing.
He couldn't leave yet.Hey everyone!
We're diving deeper into the temple's mysteries, and Aden's problem-solving skills are finally being put to the test. Expect more of these mind-bending challenges in the coming chapters—after all, the temple wasn't built to be friendly.