The inn was silent.
Only the faint whisper of wind against the window broke the stillness of the night. Moonlight spilled through the narrow opening, painting pale silver patterns across the floorboards.
Aelric sat on the edge of the bed, his posture straight, unmoving. The air around him felt heavy — calm yet expectant, as though the world itself was holding its breath.
On the wooden desk before him rested the cube.
Pitch-black, fractured with thin glowing lines of white light, it pulsed faintly… alive, like a heart struggling to beat.
Then, without warning, a faint hum filled the room.
The cracks brightened, bleeding radiance into the shadows until the entire cube floated upward, defying gravity. It hovered before Aelric's face, spinning slowly, its light reflecting in his crimson eyes like the shimmer of blood over polished glass.
He didn't flinch. His gaze remained steady, calm — unshaken by the impossible sight before him.
The cube drifted closer, its glow flickering faster, more frantic. No sound escaped it, yet Aelric could feel the intention — as though it was speaking in a language beyond words, a pulse that resonated directly within his consciousness.
He understood.
Reaching out, Aelric extended one finger. From its tip, a faint thread of dark red essence emerged — fluid yet sharp, like liquid shadow — and entered the cube's surface.
The light inside it flared, turning brilliant and pure. The white radiance exploded outward, washing over the room in a soft, ethereal glow. Then, suddenly —
A voice echoed within his mind.
⸻
[Oh ho… you knew I was not some ordinary artifact, didn't you?]
⸻
The voice was neither deep nor mature — it was young, almost playful, with a mischievous lilt that didn't belong to something ancient. It sounded like a child teasingly proud of its own secret.
Aelric's lips curved slightly. The faintest trace of a smile touched his otherwise stoic face.
Shock or fear never once surfaced. Instead, what filled his gaze was curiosity — a quiet, burning interest that had long been dormant.
In nearly a thousand years of existence, he had seen the rise and fall of kingdoms, the decay of bloodlines, the birth of divine weapons, and the death of stars — yet not once had he encountered something that could cross the boundaries of time and space itself.
When he first awoke in this unfamiliar world, he had already suspected that the cube — this mysterious relic that had appeared during his final slumber — was no ordinary object. And now, that suspicion had become certainty.
He leaned slightly forward, voice low and calm.
"Of course. Anything capable of tearing through dimensions cannot be ordinary. Nor would it be without a will of its own."
For a brief moment, the cube's glow flickered — as if amused.
⸻
[Hehehe… not bad. You catch on fast, crimson one.]
[Most who touch me end up as dust before they even realize what's happening.]
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Aelric raised an eyebrow faintly.
"You speak as if you've done this often."
The cube tilted in the air, light pulsing rhythmically — almost like a laugh.
⸻
[You could say that. But you, hmm… you're different.]
[Your essence, your blood… they don't belong to this world. Even your soul feels ancient — like it's been reforged a thousand times.]
[Heh, no wonder you survived crossing the boundary. Even I was nearly torn apart.]
⸻
Aelric's expression didn't waver, though the light in his eyes deepened.
His voice remained calm, carrying the weight of one used to power, not flaunting it.
"You speak much. Then tell me — what are you, truly?"
The cube spun faster, white cracks blazing brighter.
⸻
[What am I?]
[That's… a secret~.]
⸻
Its tone was playful — deliberately evasive, like a mischievous child hiding a treasure behind its back.
Aelric's gaze stayed fixed. He said nothing. Silence filled the room once more, heavy and patient.
After a few seconds, the cube gave in with a sighing hum.
⸻
[Fine, fine. You're no fun.]
[Let's just say I'm something… from beyond your little world. A relic born from the void between realities. I was sleeping — trapped, actually — on that rotting planet of yours until you touched me.]
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Aelric's eyes narrowed slightly. "You were trapped?"
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[Mmh, yes. Can you imagine? An artifact like me, stuck for centuries with no essence to feed on? How boring.]
[Then you came along. I felt your blood essence — dense, ancient, rich with something… primal.]
[When you touched me, I did what any reasonable being would do. I borrowed your power, shattered the wall between realms, and pulled us both here.]
⸻
"So," Aelric said, his tone perfectly level, "you used me."
The cube's glow pulsed once, as if shrugging.
⸻
[Used, saved, potato, potahto.]
[I couldn't travel on my own, and you would've perished soon anyway. I just… sped things up a little.]
⸻
Aelric's expression didn't change, but a faint glint of amusement passed through his eyes.
For all its words, the entity within the cube behaved like a child — cunning and clever, yes, but also strangely naïve in its self-assured tone. Yet beneath that playfulness, he sensed something vast. The cube's energy didn't belong to any plane of power he recognized.
He folded his arms slightly, leaning back.
"You seem to know much about crossing between worlds."
⸻
[Of course I do.]
[You think hopping across dimensions is easy? Most beings — even Ardent Sovereigns — get erased trying it.]
[You're lucky, crimson one. You not only kept your soul intact but also retained about… oh, twenty percent of your power, maybe less. That's impressive.]
⸻
Ardent Sovereigns.
The term lingered briefly in his mind — alien and undefined — but he didn't pursue it. Aelric was not one to rush curiosity. Knowledge came best when it revealed itself naturally.
The cube's voice lowered slightly, more thoughtful now.
⸻
[You wouldn't have suffered so much backlash if you'd bound your soul to me before the crossing.]
[If we'd been linked properly, I could have stabilized your essence and kept your core intact.]
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Aelric's crimson gaze flickered faintly. "So you forced the transfer, and my body paid the price."
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[Hehe… well, you're alive, aren't you? I'd call that a success.]
⸻
For a brief second, silence returned. Aelric exhaled softly, his mind steady.
He had lived through endless wars, seen gods fall and stars turn cold. Once, emotions like anger or pride had moved him. Now, only understanding did. He had long learned that fury and joy alike were distractions — fleeting ripples on an eternal sea.
His calm was not arrogance. It was inevitability.
"You talk much for an artifact that caused this," he said quietly, eyes flicking toward the faint red veins under his skin — the mark of damage to his core.
The cube dimmed slightly, as if embarrassed — though the next instant, it laughed again.
⸻
[You're too serious. I like that. Calm, composed, terrifyingly patient.]
[Fine, I'll make it up to you.]
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Aelric's gaze lifted. "How?"
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[I'll help you recover. I can refine your essence — maybe even speed up your healing if you feed me enough blood energy.]
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He tilted his head faintly. "Blood energy?"
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[Oh, come on. Don't act innocent. I felt it when you used your power — the shadows and blood intertwined. That's your core, isn't it? Blood, shadow, and silence.]
[Feed me blood, and I'll stabilize your essence in return. It's a fair exchange.]
⸻
Aelric remained silent for a moment, eyes thoughtful.
The cube had already seen more than he wanted revealed — but it was true. His innate core had always been tied to the primal essence of blood and darkness.
Perhaps, he thought, this entity truly could hasten his recovery.
Yet he did not trust easily. In his long life, he had learned that every being, no matter how harmless it seemed, held purpose behind its words.
Finally, he spoke. "You haven't told me what to call you."
The cube's glow shimmered playfully, spinning once in midair.
⸻
[Names are such funny little things. Some worlds worship them, others erase them.]
[But fine — since you insist, you can call me… Hex.]
⸻
"Hex," Aelric repeated softly, the syllable rolling off his tongue like the whisper of a blade unsheathing.
⸻
[Hehe, see? Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?]
⸻
The light from Hex dimmed slowly, fading to a faint, steady pulse.
Aelric sat silently, watching it. For the first time since arriving in this world, the faintest flicker of genuine intrigue glimmered behind his calm expression.
The night deepened. The moonlight fell on his face — silver against crimson eyes. The air was still.
The cube hovered once more, its faint white glow casting soft shadows along the room.
⸻
[Rest for now, crimson one. The fun part begins soon.]
⸻
Aelric's gaze lingered for a few seconds longer. Then he closed his eyes, leaning back against the wall.
Whatever Hex was — child, trickster, or relic of another existence — it was far from ordinary.
And for the first time in centuries, Aelric felt the faint stir of something he thought long dead.
Interest.
