Night covered the coastal city.
The streets outside the hotel had already grown quiet, leaving only the faint sound of distant waves from the harbor.
Inside the small room, Adrian sat cross-legged on the bed.
His eyes were closed.
His breathing was slow and steady.
He focused on the strange connection hidden deep within his soul.
The moment he touched it—
Darkness swallowed his vision.
The familiar feeling of weightlessness appeared again, as if he were floating in an endless void.
Then the darkness faded.
Gray mist stretched endlessly before him.
Broken stone pillars rose from the ground like the ruins of an ancient civilization.
And in the center of the mist stood the massive black throne.
Adrian slowly looked around.
"The Sefirot…"
This time, everything was clearer.
The air carried an ancient and heavy presence.
It wasn't hostile, but it made the surrounding space feel solemn.
Adrian slowly walked toward the throne.
Faint shadows drifted through the gray fog like sleeping souls.
They didn't move toward him.
They simply existed.
Silent.
Ancient.
Adrian stopped a few steps away from the throne and stared at it.
"…So this is the Sefirot."
The throne looked as if it had been carved from dark bone. Strange symbols were engraved across its surface.
Just standing near it made his spirit feel strangely calm.
Adrian didn't sit on the throne.
Not yet.
Instead, he stood quietly and began thinking.
In the world of Beyonders, powerful existences often had honorific names.
Names that could be used in rituals.
Names that represented their authority.
Even the mysterious being known as The Fool
had his own honorific name.
Adrian frowned slightly.
"If I want to build influence later… I'll need one too."
But creating an honorific name wasn't simple.
It needed to reflect the symbolism of the pathway.
Death.
Souls.
Spirits.
And the strange authority connected to this Sefirot.
Adrian slowly closed his eyes and began thinking.
Words started forming in his mind.
"The wandering guide of lost souls…"
He paused.
"No… that sounds weak."
He tried again.
"The keeper of silent spirits…"
Still not right.
Adrian opened his eyes and looked at the throne again.
The mist moved gently around the broken pillars.
For a moment, he suddenly felt something.
A faint resonance from the Sefirot itself.
It was subtle.
But it was guiding him.
Adrian spoke slowly, testing the words.
"The watcher of wandering souls…"
The gray mist trembled slightly.
Adrian froze.
"…That reacted."
Encouraged, he continued.
"The keeper of silent death…"
The air around the throne grew slightly heavier.
Adrian's eyes narrowed.
"…Interesting."
He took a slow breath before speaking the final line.
"The heir of the forgotten throne."
The moment the words left his mouth—
The gray mist around the throne surged violently.
Adrian's heart skipped a beat.
But the reaction only lasted a moment.
Soon everything returned to silence.
Adrian stood there quietly, thinking.
Then he slowly repeated the full sentence.
"The watcher of wandering souls.
The keeper of silent death.
The heir of the forgotten throne."
The Sefirot did not react this time.
But Adrian could feel something faint inside his spirit.
As if the words had created a small spiritual imprint.
"…Not perfect."
But it was a beginning.
Honorific names usually changed as a Beyonder grew stronger.
Right now, Adrian was still too weak to create a truly powerful one.
Still, the attempt had taught him something important.
This Sefirot was not just a source of power.
It was also a symbol of authority.
Adrian looked up at the towering throne once more.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"One step at a time."