The man floated slightly above the living flesh of the floor, his feet concealed by the shifting edges of his purple cloak. He smiled in a strange way—not with his lips, but with his eyes. As if he already knew everything about Elian. As if he'd been waiting for him.
— You resisted the Guardian of the First Floor… and survived Argat'hul's bite. — His voice was low and dragging, as if spoken through veils. — I don't know whether to call you a fool… or the chosen.
Elian remained low behind the Guardian's carcass. His muscles screamed, his body still healing from the damage. But his mind… his mind raced. Calculating. Measuring distances. Weighing risks.
"This guy isn't just another prisoner. His aura... it feels familiar. Like the fragment's."
The system activated on its own.
[Hostility Analysis: Active][Fragment Detected: Lithael, the Purple Echo — Classification: Legendary Class][Threat Level: CRITICAL][Suggestion: Evacuate Immediately]
"Legendary?"Elian had never heard of that classification. As far as he knew, fragments were cataloged into three levels: Common, Rare, and Chaotic. But "Legendary"… that was something he'd only read about in forbidden whispers echoing through the cells at night.
The man seemed to sense the scan.
— Trying to read me? Oh… that's adorable. — His eyes shimmered green. — But don't worry, Elian. I'm not here to kill you. Not yet.
Elian stood slowly. Tension coursed through his veins like venom.
— How do you know my name?
— I know the names of all who've been touched by the Seventh Chain. — The man opened his arms. — We are children of the same rupture, you and I. We just… chose different paths.
"Seventh Chain..."The word triggered something deep in Elian's mind.
Twisted memories. Whispers between the moans of the prison. Echoes of delirious inmates murmuring about "the Seventh Chain that tore the sky and stained the gods with blood."
— What do you want? — Elian asked, voice steady despite the tension.
— An invitation. — The man extended his hand. A symbol appeared in the air: three eyes overlapped by an inverted spiral. — The Legion of the Fragmented is gathering the heirs. Those who carry the echoes of the dead gods. We need soldiers… generals… or bait.
Elian narrowed his eyes.
— And you think I'd accept something like that?
The man smiled again. This time, with his lips as well.
— Not yet. But soon, you'll understand. The prison is alive… and it's waking up. The Upper Floors have been taken. The Guardians have gone mad. And the Throne is about to choose a new bearer.
Throne.
The word echoed violently through his mind. The same throne he had seen in Argat'hul's visions.
— Refuse for now, if you must. — The stranger turned, floating toward the fleshy staircase that led upward. — But be warned, Elian Kael...— The prison does not forgive those who survive... it devours them.
With a blink, he vanished.
[Hostile presence has withdrawn.][Fragment Lithael has descended to the Second Core.][New Route Unlocked: Delta Sector of the Second Floor.]
Elian stood frozen, heart pounding.
"The prison is alive... and I'm part of what woke it up."
He looked at his hands. The Abyssal Claw still pulsed, eager to be unleashed. But something new was forming within him—a sense of urgency. Of fate.
He took the tattered tunic from the dead Guardian and draped it over himself. Covered his face with strips of leather. Hid his eyes.
It was time to ascend.
But not as a victim.Not as a prisoner.As a player.