As Adnyess faded into stardust, Kai felt a surge within him. The four-leaf clover glowed, each petal now faintly pulsing with a distinct hue.
"Begin your journey in Vandorra," Adnyess's voice echoed faintly in his mind. "Humans still thrive there."
He continued, his tone scholarly.
"This world holds two powers. Zyre—the Power of Kings—and Zenssai—the Soul's Perfect Weapon. Zyre is rare, a gift for those born to command. Zenssai, however, is nearly universal. At age five, a stone beside a child's heart transforms into a weapon shaped by dreams, nightmares, memories, and hopes. It becomes an extension of the soul."
Adnyess explained the gears of Zyre:
Gear 1: Enhances attack power by channeling Zyre into one's limbs.
Gear 2: Reinforces the body, enhancing defense.
Gear 3: Expands awareness, detecting energy across distances.
Gear 4: Unleashes Killing Intent, a pressure that can break weak wills.
"Zyre grants authority. Zenssai gives identity. Learn them both… or be destroyed by them."
The scene shifts.
Far across the realm, in a lavish casino carved from golden stone and obsidian, a man lounged atop a throne of coins. His crimson summer shirt flared slightly as he leaned forward, flashy gold goggles gleaming under neon light. His long blond hair was tied back with a golden ribbon, and his eyes—unnervingly black—pierced into the soul.
His name: Argeus, the richest man alive. The one who had turned money into a god.
Before him, peasants begged—dirty, desperate, broken.
"Please, Argeus! Spare us!"
But Argeus only smirked, a cruel twist at his lips.
"Spare you? You exist to be used. Money doesn't beg—it commands."
With a flick of his hand, his Zyre flared. Golden streams of energy laced his body as he activated Zyre Gear 1, reinforcing his limbs with wealth-born might. He snapped his fingers.
The poor exploded—not from fire or blade, but crushed under the sheer pressure of manipulated currency energy. Coins sharpened into razors spun through the air, tearing them apart.
"Your pain funds my evolution," he whispered, turning to the glass chamber behind him.
Inside floated a humanoid figure—newborn, raw, and forged from the hatred of those he destroyed. His experiment. His heir.
"The perfect human, born from desperation. A being made to inherit my dominion."
Argeus walked across the blood-stained marble, picking up gold coins soaked in red.
He forced remaining survivors to fight over a single coin, laughing as they tore one another apart.
"This is the truth of your world. Not Zyre. Not fate. Just money. The ultimate weapon."
The twisted orchestra swelled. Argeus stood atop the mountain of corpses and gold, stretching his arms to the sky.
"Soon… this broken world will bend to the weight of my fortune."
And in the distance…
Kai's journey began.
Alone, burdened, cursed—but not afraid.
He took his first step toward Vandorra.
Toward war.
Toward destiny.
And perhaps… peace.
End of Chapter Three