Kael stared at the strange, six-sided crystal lying in the ash.
It pulsed faintly—like it was breathing.
"…What the hell is that?" he asked, stepping back. "Did that come out of the zombie?"
Seraphiel's voice curled into his thoughts, calm and distant. "That's a Hexagon Cube. A vessel for what's left behind."
Kael frowned. "Like… loot?"
A breath of dry amusement echoed in his mind. "In crude terms, yes. But it's more than that. Now that God is gone, the laws He buried are surfacing again. Old laws. Original ones."
He crouched near the ash, the Cube's glow reflected in his eyes. "Meaning what?"
"Meaning the universe no longer plays by His rules," Seraphiel said. "It reclaims the dead in its own way. Sometimes, not always, their essence condenses—memories, skills, raw being—into those Cubes. It doesn't happen every time. Only when the soul… resonates."
Kael tilted his head. "Resonates?"
"It depends on the creature's strength, its clarity of purpose… and a dozen other things. Most die and fade. But some leave behind fragments—these."
He reached out, feeling the Cube's warmth. "So it's, like… a soul crystal?"
"In a sense," she said. "But understand this—the Cube remembers."
Kael blinked. "Remembers?"
"It carries echoes of who they were. The skills it holds, the essence inside… it's shaped by their life. Their actions. Their will. Whatever comes out will reflect the soul that created it."
Kael stared down at the Cube again, his fingers curling slowly around it.
"So… this thing might teach me how to tear people apart like a zombie?"
"Or a shard of what made that creature dangerous," Seraphiel replied. "The universe doesn't grant judgment, Kael—it simply remembers."
Kael turned the crystal in his hand. It was lighter than he expected, almost too light. Like it was made of glass filled with smoke.
"So… how do I use it?" he asked, watching the faint glow pulse through the six sides like a breathing heart.
Seraphiel's voice stirred in his mind, soft and even. "The Cube is not a tool of the System. It's older. A law buried long ago—before God imposed His design. Now that He's gone… the old ways stir again."
Kael blinked. "That doesn't answer my question."
"You don't use it like a device," she said. "You command it. Not with words—with will. The Cube responds to presence. Intention. You don't need to force it. Just want it open."
He raised an eyebrow. "That's... vague spiritual nonsense."
"Then try it," she said calmly. "And see what the universe remembers."
Kael exhaled and narrowed his focus. He didn't chant, or pray. He just… wanted it. Wanted to see what the damn thing held.
The Cube twitched.
Veins of crimson light lit up across its surface, pulsing once in time with his heartbeat. Then a soft hum rose, and with a faint hiss, the crystal cracked down the middle—splitting open like a flower of ash and memory.
A coil of dark vapor slithered out, curling like smoke through the air. At its center floated a single droplet of liquid shadow, glowing with red veins like blood in ink.
[Item Acquired: Minor Corruption Essence – Tier 1]
Kael stepped back. "That… does not look healthy."
"It isn't," Seraphiel said. "It's raw Corrupted Essence."
"And this is useful?"
"Yes. It can be used in alchemy, forging, crafting—many things. Or… you can absorb it."
Kael gave a skeptical look. "Absorb it? Like a shot of Espero?"
"You could say that. But listen carefully—this is only possible because of my power."
He paused. "Because you're… what, a fallen angel?"
"Exactly," she said. "I was born in Heaven, but I fell into the Abyss. My soul was reshaped by both divinity and corruption. That paradox now anchors your existence. Through me, you can draw power from both sides."
"So I get to cheat the rules."
"No. You get to walk the tightrope. Too much Corruption and your soul will begin to rot. Too much Ascension and your body will shatter under the weight. You must balance the flame and the void. Hold both without letting either consume you."
Kael stared at the hovering droplet of Essence. It pulsed like a heartbeat made of ink.
"…And if I mess that up?"
"Then you die screaming," she said without hesitation. "But if you master it… you'll become something the universe no longer knows how to define."
Kael gave a dry laugh. "No pressure, then."
However before Kael could go and asks on how to absorb it a scream rings through the dorm.
"ARHRHRHEHAH!"
A scream tore through the dorm. It wasn't just loud—it was primal, raw, a sound that stabbed straight into the chest and made your blood run cold.
Kael spun toward the hallway, pulse spiking. That's where it came from. He ran to the door, skidding to a stop. The door had already been torn off its hinges. Stepping over it, he peered into the corridor beyond.
Chaos unfolded. Flashing lights. Shouts. Footsteps pounding in every direction. Somewhere, glass shattered.
But Kael's eyes locked onto one thing. At the center of the hallway—on the cold tile floor—his neighbor was screaming. Or had been. The sound was choked now, wet and broken.
A figure knelt over him. Kael's breath caught. It was his own roommate… tearing into the man's flesh with blood-slick hands and gnashing teeth. A zombie.
Kael's face twisted in horror. His stomach turned.
The man on the ground thrashed weakly, eyes wide with terror as he locked gazes with Kael.
"Help me!" he rasped, voice trembling. "Please—Kael—help!"
Kael's feet refused to move.
His mind screamed Do something, but his body locked up—caught between the face of a friend and the monster he'd become.
The zombie—his roommate—lifted its head. Blood dripped from its chin. Its eyes were dead. Glassy. No recognition. No soul.
Just hunger.
The man on the floor gurgled—breath bubbling through torn flesh. His hand reached out, twitching toward Kael in a final, silent plea.
Then it fell.
Still.
Gone.
A beat passed.
The creature twitched… and turned toward Kael.
It let out a low, guttural snarl.
Kael's fists clenched. Rage flared behind his eyes—rage and grief and something burning deep in his core.
The flame responded.
Silver-grey fire curled along his forearms, licking at his knuckles like something alive.
"Kael," Seraphiel's voice slid into his thoughts, sharp and cold. "End him. He's already gone."
But Kael shook his head. "No…"
He took a step forward.
"James?" he called out, his voice cracking. "James—snap out of it, man! It's me!"
The zombie hissed.
Unmoved.
Its fingers curled like claws as it staggered closer.
"Don't do this," Kael said, louder now. "You're still in there. You have to be. We—we argued about food for hours! You said nothing beat shrimp tacos and—"
The creature lunged.
"James!"
Kael flinched.
Then Seraphiel's voice rang like a blade drawn across his spine:
"That's not him anymore."
Kael gritted his teeth, hesitating one final second.
"His soul is twisted. Emptied. If you don't kill him—he'll kill you."
James's jaw snapped inches from Kael's face.
That was all it took.
Kael's hesitation shattered.
His body moved, driven by fury and a shearing heat—like the coals of a train engine, ancient and relentless, stoking something far bigger than himself.
His fist exploded with silver-grey fire as he slammed it into James's chest.
The zombie reeled, ribs cracking beneath divine flame—but didn't fall. It clawed at him, slashing across Kael's ribs.
"I didn't want this!" Kael roared, shoving forward. "I didn't want to kill you!"
Another punch—this time straight into James's skull.
The fire surged—brighter, hotter, streaked with violet.
With a final flash, the thing that had once been James Reyes crumbled into ash.
Silence.
Silence.
Kael staggered back, chest heaving, eyes burning.
Then—
Clink.
A soft, crystalline sound echoed through the hallway.
Something small had dropped from the ashes and rolled to a stop near his foot.
Kael looked down.
A faintly glowing object—hexagonal, dark grey, pulsing with weak light. A Hexagon Cube. But unlike the one from earlier, this one shimmered with a deeper warmth, like something personal had been locked inside.
[Item Acquired: Hexagon Cube – Residual Memory Fragment]
Kael crouched beside it, fingers hovering over the facets. The glow reflected in his eyes—dim but steady.
"Is this… him?" he whispered.
Seraphiel's voice was quiet. "A fragment. What was left behind when the soul unraveled."
He swallowed hard.
"Can I open it?"
"Yes," she said.
Kael nodded once, then focused his will.
The Cube pulsed.
Veins of red and silver lit up across its surface. A hum filled the air. With a soft crack, the crystal split open, unfolding like a blooming flower made of ash and light.
From its center floated a single object: a scorched silver pendant, chain intact, charm shaped like a compass—small, old, and unmistakable.
The initials J.R. were carved faintly into the back.
Kael's breath caught.
He reached out slowly, plucking the pendant from the air as it hovered for a moment longer—then faded from the glow and settled into his palm.
[Item Extracted: Soul-Touched Pendant – J.R.]
The System flickered. Stuttered.
Then fell silent once again.
Kael held the pendant in both hands. His voice cracked. "…You didn't leave nothing behind, huh?"
Seraphiel didn't answer.
He slipped the chain around his neck, the weight of it settling cold against his chest—solid, final.
A keepsake.
A reminder.
A vow.
A vow to make God pay.