The low, distant rumble of thunder rolled across the land like the growl of a sleeping god stirring to wakefulness. It was a primal sound that shuddered through the bones of the earth itself, vibrating up through Kaius's leather-wrapped boots and settling in his chest like a second heartbeat. He stood alone atop a craggy cliff, his spear gripped tightly in his white-knuckled, calloused fingers, its worn shaft slick with the sweat of his palm.

Before him loomed a figure that seemed to drink in what little light remained in the storm-darkened sky. It wore a man's shape like an ill-fitting cloak, its proportions subtly wrong in ways that made Kaius's mind recoil. Where its eyes should have been, there were only deep hollows that somehow managed to fix him with a gaze more penetrating than any stare he had ever received. Its mouth opened wide in a twisting grin as it stared at him as if looking directly into his soul.

As it moved towards him, the ground underneath his feet shook, and the sky above roared in anger.

"Wake up,"

[ Vassara ]

Knock knock knock!

Kaius jolted awake, his breath ragged and uneven as his mind scrambled to untangle itself from the dream. The growl of thunder that had filled his mind moments ago slowly ebbed away, replaced by the gentle light of dawn filtering through the worn shutters of his cabin. Golden rays spilled across the rough wooden walls, chasing away the oppressive darkness that had consumed him.

He slowly sat up, rubbing a calloused hand over his tangled hair. His mouth was sandpaper-dry, and his legs trembled beneath the thin blanket. Taking a moment to draw a deep, steadying breath, he pushed himself to standing, his fingers finding the familiar worn wooden mug on his bedside table as he reached for the water pitcher.

Knock knock knock!!

The sound grew more persistent, but Kaius ignored it for the moment. He tipped the wooden mug to his lips, the cool water sliding over his parched throat. It tasted faintly of the cedar cask it had been stored in, which eased his mind and relaxed his moving heartbeat in a way that was relaxing. He paused halfway through, letting the water rest against his tongue before swallowing slowly, savoring the cooling sensation.

With a soft sigh, he placed the mug back on the bedside table, its weight settling with a muted thud against the wooden furniture. The knocking came again, sharper this time, and he ran a hand over his face before heading toward the door.

"I'm coming," he called out, his voice gravelly from disuse, as he reached for the latch.

Opening the door, Kaius blinked in surprise as his gaze fell on a face he hadn't expected to see. "Fafnee?" he asked, his tone laced with equal parts confusion and disbelief.

The short woman before him tilted her head slightly, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. Her dark eyes sparkled with a warmth that contrasted sharply with the stern demeanor of the two guards flanking her. They stood like statues, their heavy boots planted firmly on the worn path leading to his cabin, offering nothing more than a curt grunt of acknowledgment.

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"Good morning, Kaius." Fafnee said cheerfully, her hands clasped loosely in front of her. "You look like you've seen a ghost.”

Kaius rubbed the back of his neck, still caught off guard. "You could say that. It's been... a while.”

“So,” he said, leaning lightly against the doorframe, his tone casual but his eyes sharp, “what brings the chief commander of the guards to my lovely abode?” He quickly noted how her smile cracked for just a fraction of a second before her usual expression appeared on her face.

Fafnee chuckled softly, though the sound didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Lovely is one word for it,” she said, her gaze drifting briefly over his shoulder, taking in the modest interior of his cabin. Her expression shifted ever so slightly, a flicker of hesitation before she straightened. “But I’ll get right to the chase. The king… he wants you to come back. To the army.”

Kaius froze.

“Come back?” he echoed, his voice low and disbelieving. “You must be joking.”

Fafnee’s smile faded entirely now, replaced by a somber seriousness that felt foreign on her usually bright face. “I wouldn’t be here if I were,” she said quietly. “This isn’t just a request. It’s an order, Kaius, one that you are not in the position to refuse.”

“The brief time of comfort and relief you’ve had is over,” Fafnee said, her voice steady and calm. “The kingdom is on the brink of another war, and this time, we can’t afford to lose. We need the strongest men in the realm on the front lines.”

She paused, her dark eyes locking onto his. “You are our strongest, Kaius. The king knows it. I know it. And we need you… and your talents.”

Kaius felt a cold weight settle in his chest at her words. He knew exactly what she meant by “talents.” It wasn’t just his skill with a spear or his uncanny instinct in battle—it was the part of himself he’d tried to bury. The part he’d hoped to leave behind when he walked away from the army.

His jaw clenched, and he leaned back against the doorframe, crossing his arms. “So that’s it,” he said, his voice quiet but hard. “You want me to pick up the spear again. To fight your war… to use what I swore I wouldn’t.”

“This isn’t the time to be selfish, Kaius,” Fafnee said, her voice sharp now, cutting through the tension like a sword. She stepped closer, her tone heavy with urgency. “If we don’t win this war, people are going to die innocent people. Families. Children. And if you refuse to help, if you turn your back on this kingdom, their blood will be on your hands.”

“And I swear," Fafnee hissed, stepping even closer, her eyes blazing with a fury that corrupted her usual composure. "before those reapers reach the kingdom, I will personally kill you if we lose this war. Immortal shapeshifter be damned! I'll make you suffer before we all kick the bucket.”

The edges of his vision briefly darkened, a shadow curling at the corners of his mind. His hand, trembling at his side, began to morph, his fingers elongating into sharp, blackened claws. A familiar, primal urge whispered at the back of his thoughts, urging him to remind the short woman in front of him exactly what he was capable of.

But he resisted.

“I don’t have to do anything,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. His eyes locked onto Fafnee’s, leaving no room for an argument “Don’t forget that.”

Fafnee didn’t flinch, though her eyes briefly flicked to his hand as it returned to normal. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she folded her arms across her chest, her stance unyielding.

“No,” she said firmly, “you don’t have to. But if you turn your back on this, on all of us, then you’ll have to live with what comes next. And knowing you, Kaius, that’ll destroy you more than any battle ever could.”

He slammed the door in her face.

The woman was nothing if not persistent, but this time, her message had struck its mark. Whether he wanted to admit it or not was entirely up to him.

The sound of their boots crunching against the gravel outside as they turned to leave made it clear that they weren’t waiting for his decision. She had said her piece, and now it was up to him.

Kaius stood in the doorway, watching as Fafnee and her guards disappeared into the trees, their forms fading into the early morning mist. He let out a slow, bitter exhale, his hand brushing the doorframe as if grounding himself.

“She made her point,” he muttered, his voice low and rough. Yet, the silence that followed felt even heavier.

“Run away, little hero. Run home.”

The voice was low and taunting, a dark whisper that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once. Kaius jolted in surprise, his body instinctively reacting before his mind could catch up. His back arched, and he felt the familiar, unsettling sensation as sharp blades erupted along his spine, shifting and gleaming to cover his whole body in a defensive stance as he looked around for what made the noise.

He waited for a bit, but nothing happened. He looked around, his eyes turning into a dark reddish glow, searching for any signs of life or any heartbeat or Mana signal, only to find... nothing.

“I must be going insane”