The void was not silent. It hummed—a low, resonant frequency that vibrated through the marrow of the soul. Stars pulsed like dying embers, their light swallowed by the endless dark. And in the center of it all, the Arbiter waited. Its form was fluid, a silhouette of liquid mercury that shifted with every thought. No face, no voice—only a presence that carved itself into the mind like a blade into flesh. “You are a paradox,” it said, though its words were not spoken aloud. “A soul fractured by selfishness and sacrifice. How… amusing.” The man before it—if he could still be called a man—shuddered. His body was a ruin, his armor shattered, his sword broken. Blood pooled beneath him, though it did not stain the void. “I don’t… understand,” he rasped. “Where am I?” “Nowhere. Everywhere. The space between breaths, the moment before death.” The Arbiter tilted its head, its form rippling. “You are a coin spent, a story ended. And yet… you cling.” The man’s hand twitched, reaching for the hilt of his shattered blade. “I can’t die. Not yet. My people—” “Your people are dust. Your world, ash. The Voidspawn consumed all.” The words struck like a hammer, shattering the last of his resolve. He collapsed, his breath ragged. “Then why am I here?” The Arbiter’s form shifted, coalescing into a mirror. In its reflection, the man saw not his broken body, but a child—wide-eyed and trembling, clutching a wooden sword. “Because you are… adequate.” The void shuddered. Stars rearranged themselves into a contract written in flame: “Serve me. Become my blade. Slay the Voidspawn, and I will rebuild you—steel where you were weak, power where you faltered. But know this: the forge burns away the dross. Each step forward will cost a step behind.” The man stared at the contract, his mind reeling. “What… what will I lose?” “Everything.” The Arbiter gestured, and the stars shifted again. Images flashed before him—a woman’s smile, a child’s laughter, a field of golden wheat swaying in the wind. “Your memories. Your regrets. Your very self. But in their place, you will gain strength. Purpose. A second chance.” The man hesitated. His hand trembled as he reached for the flames. “Choose.” He thought of his people—of the screams, the fire, the Voidspawn’s howls. Of the child he had failed to save. “I… accept.” The contract ignited, its flames consuming him. Pain—sharp and infinite—ripped through his soul. “The first lesson, vessel: steel cannot bend. Only break.” The void collapsed, and the man screamed as his memories burned away.