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The world… or was it the universe?
Julian found himself in the middle of nowhere. A vast, endless desert that seemed to shimmer like night sky. But there were cracks everywhere, and beyond those cracks lay an infinite void of light, silvers twinkling at a distance beyond what Julian could comprehend.
But if there was something that Julian could comprehend, it was the violence.
Above, below, and to every horizon—there was war. A raging war that seemed to have no sides at all. It wasn’t a battle between two sides, but a field of chaos with countless armies clashing with each other.
At one point, alliances seemed to be made, only to be broken; brothers and sisters fighting against each other. There were knights clad in radiant armor, their swords and spears, unlike anything Julian had seen before, blazing like the sun itself.
He would have loved to just stare at their weapons and inspect them, but Julian was distracted by all the rage. By everything that was happening.
There were massive constructs everywhere, stone, metal, and some other material Julian couldn’t recognize. They hurled destruction everywhere and to everyone—perhaps that was the only redeeming quality of this war.
It was fair, everyone was dying and losing.
Julian then saw swarms of beings with wings darting across the endless void, their forms shifting as they ripped through anything in their path; their wings, cutting the very space itself. There were also monstrous beings larger than the mountains Julian had seen, all locked in battle and shaking the very foundations of whatever this place was with every blow.
And yet, throughout this raging chaos, the very center of it all was calm, eerily so.
Floating at the heart of violence was a cube, a perfect cube that was darker than the void itself. It did not reflect light, nor did it reflect the violence surrounding it.
It was just… there. Existing.
Or perhaps, not even?
It wasn’t massive at all, and there seemed to be nothing special about it except for the fact that it was at the center of everything… and perhaps it was the very reason why the chaos was happening in the first place.
Everyone seemed to be moving toward it, wanting to possess it… and yet no one could have it.
But then, throughout the chaos, there was order—or at least perhaps an illusion of it.
It was a single arrow, flying across the battlefield and whistling peacefully through everyone and everything without a single hint of violence. It just flowed through the war, glowing faintly with a silver-green light surrounding it.
And then, the chaos stopped instantly as the arrow struck right into the Cube.
Everyone then watched as the arrow slowly stood tall, shifting casually amidst the carnage—it turned into a woman, draped in what could be considered a humble robe made of fur and leather.
Everyone screamed and roared, pushing each other as they rushed toward the woman. But their cries were for nothing as the woman claimed the cube, embracing it before vanishing into the void.
The battlefield stilled. The armies halted, godly beings frozen in shock, as if the entire war had been extinguished in an instant.
And then, somewhere— Julian watched as the very same woman whispered into the darkness. She wasn’t in a cavern, nor was she in the same void where the war was happening, she was just… there, along with her cube.
The cube rested in her hands, its edges faintly pulsing with an unnatural energy that seemed to consume the faint light around her. She then let go of it, and it did nothing at all but just float there.
“Why…?” Julian whispered to himself. Why would this seemingly odd cube that does nothing at all cause a war of that scale?
…and why was he being shown this? All he wanted was the Shadow Blacksmith class, he didn't need to know any of this.
Of course, any thoughts escaping Julian completely paused as the woman reached for her bow and pointed it at him.
And without any hesitation, she fired. Julian instinctively flinched, but the arrow just suddenly stopped before it could actually reach him—it stopped an inch from reaching his chest before the arrow curved, twisting in the air.
It then turned, spiraling back straight toward the woman and piercing her chest.
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The woman gasped softly, but she wasn’t in pain. A smile so serene spread across her face as she let go of her bow.
Blood did not spill from her wound, but rather, there was a leaf. And soon, roots began to emerge from the wound, winding down her body and wrapping it—but before her silhouette could completely disappear, she embraced the cube.
The roots continued to grow, expanding and intertwining until they filled the void, and as they grew, so did something else.
A world was born.
The roots twisted into continents, their tendrils spreading into rivers and mountains. From her heart came the lifeblood of this new world, a core that pulsed with warmth and light. Atmosphere swirled into being, blanketing the new creation with life-giving breath.
“Artemia…?” Julian murmured as the colorful sphere reminded him of the very first thing he had ever seen in his life.
Was the woman perhaps… Artemis herself? Was this the story of Artemia? If so… then why was he being shown this?
Julian’s gaze followed Artemia’s growth, its lands expanding and thriving. Cities were born from their soil, and life flourished. But as the world grew, a shimmering veil began to cover it—a barrier of swirling light and shadow, wrapping Artemia in a protective cocoon.
It was the very same veil that was preventing most technology from entering Artemia. But… why exactly did they need it?
His question quickly found its answer when the stars dimmed, and massive shapes appeared at the edges of the void surrounding Artemia. Ships—towering, monstrous vessels. Their surfaces were sleek and gleaming, bristling with weapons that seemed to hum with power.
Julian wondered what they were at first, but it felt and looked similar to the space station his clone woke up from, but not quite. He hadn’t really seen any of Earth’s spaceships and stations before, but he felt that these ships weren’t from Earth at all. The hum they created seemed… much more powerful than anything humanity could create.
But humans have traveled the cosmos for thousands of years, trying to find life and advanced civilizations. And throughout this journey, they have discovered the sad and boring truth—humanity is the advanced civilization.
“MEGAN, are you here?” Julian muttered. But there was no reply at all—it would seem he was alone in this vision, and soon, this vision was once again filled with fire, literally.
The ships opened fire.
Beams of energy, explosive rounds, and torrents of fire rained down upon Artemia. The veil held strong, absorbing every impact. But the relentless barrage didn’t cease. Waves of destruction pounded against the barrier again and again, each strike rippling across the shield like a stone cast into water.
Julian had no idea how long it actually lasted, he had no sense of time here. Perhaps it lasted for seconds? Minutes? Perhaps even years.
But soon, the veil flickered.
And once again, Julian’s vision shifted. He was no longer watching from above—he was standing on Artemia, gazing up at the sky as explosions lit up like a violent aurora.
“It won’t hold anymore.”
“Hm…?” A voice slightly startled Julian. He turned quickly, finding himself face-to-face with a man standing right next to him.
But no, the man wasn’t actually looking at him at all—he was gazing past him, his eyes fixed on a small figure standing on top of a boulder.
It was a girl—or at least, she seemed to be at first glance. But no, her features were sharper, more mature. It was an Eldazen woman, young and slight, yet there was a weight to her presence that belied her size.
And right there and then, as Julian stared at her—he quickly recognized whose presence it was.
Erin. The Eldazen was Erin.
“Child…” The man spoke again, his words sending chills down Julian’s spine almost as if he was actually talking to him.
“Do not let it consume you. Embrace the shadow, but never the dark.”
Julian stared at him, his mind racing. Was this man… the shadow blacksmith before Erin? Or was he the Master of Shadows?
“You will be lonely, but such is our duty. Go out into the light, protect it.”
Julian’s vision soon blurred after those words, and the voices around him became muffled. He could no longer make out what the man and Erin were saying, but he could at least hear one thing as the man repeated it over and over again.
Box.
Was he referring to the dark cube? The very same one that Artemis claimed and wrapped Artemia around?
Of course, Julian wasn’t really going to get his answers. Instead, he watched as the man’s silhouette began to change. Shadows soon crawled out from him and enveloped his body, wrapping around him like tendrils until his figure became indistinguishable.
And almost instantly, the darkness expanded, growing taller and broader until it towered over the horizon.
The man had transformed into a colossal figure, a giant shadow that seemed to scrape the heavens themselves.
The shadow giant reached into the empty sky, pulling a massive hammer out of nowhere that gleamed faintly in the dim light. And with a deep, resonant hum, he raised the hammer high, striking the sky.
Darkness spread outward from the impact—but it wasn’t malevolent or sinister at all, but it felt protective, as though the shadow itself sought to shield Artemia from the onslaught it was taking from the countless ships surrounding it.
The giant shadow… was repairing the very skies of Artemia. Was he… the one who created the veil?
And it seemed to work. The bombardment from the alien ships faltered as the veil grew stronger, reinforced by the shadow.
But then, one ship suddenly broke through, much smaller than the others. It pierced the atmosphere like a spear, its weapons unleashing a single, devastating shot.
And then, as it entered Artemia, it released another blast.
The blast tore through the shadow giant, punching a hole clean through its chest.
“NO!” A scream echoed through the air, raw with anguish. Julian turned to see Erin—Her face contorted with grief as she watched the shadow fall down onto his knees.
Julian could feel it. He had no connection with the man at all, but he could feel the great sadness that was escaping from Erin’s lips. A rage that he was familiar with.
And soon, the shadow began to wither, its immense form dissolving into the air like smoke. The hammer slipped from its grasp, and the figure… just faded into nothingness.
The ship descended, landing close to Erin. But she quickly hid, her eyes watching as the vessel’s ramp began to lower and open.
And although he wasn’t being seen at all, Julian also did the same—hiding with Erin as they both watched as the figures emerged from the ship; their steps heavy as their feet touched Artemia’s soil.
“What…?”
It wasn’t only Erin’s eyes that widened as they saw them.
They walked like humans, that’s for sure—but they weren’t. Their forms were sleek, their skin a dark, almost metallic hue.
But most importantly, their heads.
It reminded Julian of daemons.
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