The scene opened beneath the hush of a solemn dawn, where pale strands of morning light crept through the frosted glass of the laboratory.
Dust particles shimmered in the quiet air.
Iris stirred from her slumped posture in the metal chair, eyes heavy from sleepless hours hunched over endless data.
Her breath fogged faintly in the chilled room. Then—something changed.
"What the...?" she murmured, voice dry, rising to her feet in a heartbeat.
Suspended in the center of the reinforced containment chamber, the blue particle—the last remnant of Leo—hovered no longer still.
It quivered violently, emitting a soundless hum that rippled through the air like thunder buried in silence.
The gravity in the room shifted.
Every molecule seemed to lean toward it, like the world holding its breath.
Then—crash!
The containment glass didn't shatter.
It disintegrated—not into shards, but into radiant particles of stardust, dissolving as if time had fast-forwarded its decay. A kinetic shockwave erupted, invisible but merciless.
Iris was thrown back, her body slamming against a metal cabinet with a heavy clang.
She gasped, pain blooming across her back, but forced herself up.
The particle... had changed.
No longer dormant, it now pulsed with a light that was not magical—but primordial.
Something older than gods.
Something that whispered of creation... and destruction. Its glow was no longer mournful—it was restless. Awakened.
Iris raised a trembling hand, her body wrapped in protective light.
But the moment her aura touched the particle, searing pain tore through her palm.
She screamed. Her barrier cracked like thin glass. It hadn't even noticed her magic.
Before she could react, the particle pulsed one final time—an ancient heartbeat—and vanished without a trace.
Not teleported. Not concealed. Gone.
Iris stood there, body scorched, chest heaving, her breath ragged. But her eyes—those glowing white irises—widened in silent dread.
She knew.
He wasn't gone.
He was becoming something else.
Jack no longer lay lifeless on the cold earth.
He now hovered—cross-legged, levitating within a sphere of pulsating, unstable energy.
His silhouette was draped in a terrifying, pitch-black coat, torn at the edges, whispering like shadows peeling off reality itself.
Around him, a twisted storm of red and black aura spiraled like sentient fire, writhing with malice—chaotic, ancient, and alive.
His face was pale, unreadable—emptied. Then, silently, a single tear traced down his cheek... but it wasn't water.
It was blood.
Suddenly, his eyes snapped open—crimson infernos, twin flames that devoured the very air.
A wave of dread erupted from his body, rippling through the cave like a curse. The ground cracked beneath him, unable to bear the weight of his rebirth.
The aura expanded,spare thickening the air, suffocating everything with its oppressive pressure.
He descended—slowly, like a phantom unchained.
The beasts—the ones who once laughed, tore at his body, and spat on his defeat—now trembled. Their instincts screamed at them to run. But their legs wouldn't move.
They could only stare, paralyzed by terror, as the creature before them shed its humanity like an old skin.
Jack didn't spare them a glance.
His hood rose on its own, casting his face in darkness—his form more shadow than man now.
Then—
Without a word... without even the whisper of movement... he vanished.
His body dissolved into dust, devoured by a gust of wind that bent the laws of physics. No teleportation. No magic. Just erasure.
The seventh floor of the Abyss Vault breathed like a slumbering beast, its corridors pulsing faintly with a heartbeat of red light.
Iris led the way, each step measured, every breath drawn like it might be her last. The deeper they went, the louder the silence screamed.
This was where they lost Ria.
Cain's boots slowed against the ancient stone, his expression tightening. "The aura here... it's too thick. It's alive."
Iris moved her fingers along the cracked walls—veins of glowing crimson snaked beneath the surface like trapped lightning.
"Could be bleed-over from the eighth floor. The barrier's weakening—"
BOOM.
The floor shook violently, cutting her off. A rift of shadow split ahead—monsters emerged.
Massive. Grotesque. Twisted.
They walked like gorillas but dripped with mutation: bone horns piercing through blood-matted fur, claws like obsidian daggers, and jaws torn from within by the weight of their own fangs.
But it wasn't the size that made the squad falter.
It was their eyes—burning, sharp, calculating.
Not beasts. Mages.
"SPREAD OUT!" Iris shouted, leaping back.
A roar exploded behind her—purple fire launched at Cain.
He summoned a stone bulwark just in time, but the impact sent him crashing through two columns. Before anyone could blink, two more vanished mid-charge.
Iris's eyes widened. "Teleportation magic—!"
Above them—flash.
They struck from the sky.
Iris didn't flinch.
Her eyes ignited with white fire, divine and cold, and with a sharp flourish of her hand, she carved a glowing arc through the air. Light sparked, and the arc twisted—unfolding into a radiant chain-blade.
It hissed as it extended, wrapping through the air like a celestial whip. She spun, the motion fluid, instinctive—then snapped it forward.
CLASH—!
The blade caught one of the beasts mid-leap. With a fierce pull, she slammed it to the ground.
The floor cracked beneath the impact, the creature shrieking in fury.
Ren's sigil blazed to life across his arm. In a flash, four shadow clones burst outward—each darting in a different direction, fists crackling with speed-forged lightning. Their attacks struck in rhythm, a chaotic beat of power and precision.
Cain staggered back to his feet, blood smeared across his face.
Slamming his palm down, he roared, "Rise!" From beneath, enchanted roots erupted—barbed, spiked, glowing green—entangling another beast in a snare of wrathful nature.
Marina, calm amid the chaos, raised her staff.
Golden glyphs swirled, and with a chant, a holy barrier bloomed around the team, shielding them from the next wave.
But the monsters adapted. One roared—its voice bent the very air, distorting sound and vision. The team staggered, senses spinning.
Another hurled spheres of writhing darkness—miniature singularities—each one distorting time for mere seconds, dragging motion like gravity chains.
Yet Iris moved.
Unshaken.
Her blade unraveled into radiant threads, slicing not just flesh—but the seams of space itself.
She vanished—then appeared midair, spinning once, twice—her hand traced a sigil mid-spin.
"Sealing Slash!"
The rune carved into the earth as her blade struck down—BOOM!
A blast of radiant energy exploded outward.
Shockwaves tore through the hall as the creatures' magical cores sealed shut—one by one, they dropped, stunned, magic silenced.
Iris landed hard, blood streaking down her sleeve, breath ragged, but her stance steady.
"If these things are leaking from the eighth floor..." she panted, eyes still glowing, "we're not ready."
Cain, wiping blood from his mouth, smirked. "Then we better get ready fast."
But before the last beast could rise again—
The air changed.
Not heavy like before—no. Deeper. More ancient.
The walls pulsed. The Vault breathed.
And then—silence.
The last monster froze... then backed away.
It wasn't them it feared.
It was something else.
Something... Awakened.