I open my eyes to the strange world once again. All around is a mysterious darkness, as if something enormous is casting its shadow over me.

Beside me, the soul who now resides within my former body is on his knees, struggling to hold the black sea above his head with both arms.

This time, his face is a mix of defeat and confusion as he gazes up at the seemingly insurmountable weight above.

The black sea descends towards us ever so slowly, in this place where time seems to flow strangely.

So, I reach out and place my remaining hand on the surface of the black sea and give it a little push. It yields and the sky clears, and I realize that what I had perceived as a vast, dark sea was, in fact, the bottom of a colossal letter.

As the darkness lifts from our surroundings. I discern twelve letters surround us. I examine them closely, my mind racing to make sense of their arrangement.

It dawns on me that these letters spell the word "responsibility." The weight of its meaning settles upon me like an anchor, both daunting and EMPOWERING.

My radiance grows ever dimmer, and I feel my only remaining hand dissipating like mist. The sacrifice becomes clear. I realize that if I open my eyes again, it will likely be my last. I have to speak with him no matter what, before my light fades completely.

With immense exhaustion weighing upon me, I reluctantly close my eyes once more.

While all of these events unfolded within Mordax's sea of consciousness, only a couple of seconds passed in the world outside since Grixi extended her hand towards him.

She witnessed him tremble, falter, and take several steps backward before falling on his butt, plopping to the ground.

From a distance, Xod, aware of Mordax's struggle, paused his training. 'I am going to die soon anyway,' he thought, 'it is time we both confronted our fears, buddy.'

Mordax regained his composure, his fearful expression dissipated as Grixi's voice echoed in his mind, "Brother, you are scaring me... are you okay?"

Mordax placed a hand on his still spinning head. "You... You want me to be the next Prime Chronicler, right?" he questioned, his thoughts drifting. 'Xod told me to accept my fate, was he talking about this?'

Grixi nodded, her eyes filled with hope as she added, "Yes, but..."

Mordax interrupted her, his tone firm. "No buts... I refuse."

Grixi's voice took on a sharper tone, a mix of frustration and concern. "It is not that simple, brother."

"Why is it not?" Mordax retorted, his emotions bubbling to the surface. "There are tens of other chroniclers, Tagxart can choose another one." He waved his hand as if swatting flies left and right. "The responsibility... it's too much."

"Brother, none possess your gift, and our people need their savior," Grixi pleaded, her tone shifting to one of desperation.

Yet, her brow furrowed. 'What has gotten into you? You have never backed down from responsibility before,' she wondered.

"No," Mordax declared firmly. Softening his tone, he continued, "I'm sorry, Grixi. My mind is made up."

With those words, he turned to leave. But Grixi called out, her voice filled with disbelief, "Wait. Even if you refuse the mantle of the Prime Chronicler, the brother I know would at least try."

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Mordax paused, his steps faltering. "Consider that brother you knew... died on that day," he said, his hands mimicking a noose tightening around his neck.

His heart pounded wildly in his chest. 'Yes,' he thought, 'this is who I am—a coward who always runs.'

Then a voice was heard from above. "I thought you have changed for the better, it seems I was mistaken."

Turning their heads upward, they saw the Prime Chronicler, Tagxart, levitating on a platform. A frown was apparent on his face. He resembled Mordax, albeit older and having a significantly longer neck, unproportionally so.

"Yes, things change, I have realized I am a free spirit who prefers a simpler life."

Taggart's eyes flashed with anger. "Speak not to me of spirits and souls, boy. You will master all our arts again - or be destroyed by them!"

His eyes emitted an eldritch purple glow, while the levitating metal platform beneath him trembled with an ominous energy. Suddenly, the air crackled with a series of resounding snaps as three thick metal rods ripped themselves free from the platform.

In that critical moment, Zilvera's voice rang out in protest. "Prime Chronicler no!"

However, her words fell on deaf ears as the rods levitated around Tagxart, his attention fixed on Mordax. With a gesture and a display of his telekinetic powers, he willed the metal rods to launch themselves towards Mordax.

At that very moment, Grixi leapt towards Tagxart, her claws fully extended. However, Tagxart merely cast a sideways glance at her, effortlessly levitating out of harm's way on his platform.

Mordax's eyes widened in horror as the metal rods closed in on him. They carried a powerful force, and he braced himself, ready to channel his Qi and evade it. But a brown figure rushed in from the side, intercepting the rods.

Xod, with his eyes flashing purple, deflected two of the rods with expert punches. However, the third rod struck him directly in the chest. A resounding clang echoed through the air as he grunted and staggered backward.

Mordax bellowed as he saw his buddy taking the blows that was meant for him. Xod turned his face towards him.

"Buddy... are you okay? Why are you roaring as if you have lost something?" He asked, his expression filled with both shock and confusion.

"You..." he began, but with a resounding clang, the metal rod dropped to the ground, devoid of any trace of blood on its surface. "You are fine?!" Mordax asked his voice filled with disbelief.

Xod chuckled, his laughter carrying a hint of pride. "Of course, I'm fine, buddy. Even a child could withstand a blow like that. How can I claim to be the best warrior if I can't even block such an attack with my body?"

"But, it had so much force behind it." Mordax said.

Xod slapped his forehead "Oh right, your memories. Look closely, buddy."

With a flash of purple in his eyes, Xod struck his chest twice, producing a metallic clang.

Then it was Mordax's turn to slap his forehead.

Xod roared with a laughter. 'It hurt like a bitch but there is no need to ruin my heroic entrance.'

Turning back to Tagxart, his voice was filled with determination. "Esteemed Prime Chronicler, let's all calm our minds. I shall take my buddy for a walk in the mountains so we can all gather our thoughts."

Tagxart's eyes blazed with fury as he retorted. "All of you have gone soft on the boy because he lost his memories." He continued, "Block one more blow from me and I will consider it. Consider this your punishment as well."

Then he added inside his mind with a maniacal laugh. 'Try not to die.'

Mordax knew the face Tagxart wore all too well, the same expression that accompanied the grueling sparring matches the apprentice chroniclers were subjected to in order to 'toughen their minds.'

He took a step forward, ready to speak up, but Xod halted him by placing a hand in front of him.

Tagxart darkly chuckled, "Do you see how power dictates everything? How weak you are without your powers, boy," he taunted, then his thoughts laced with a sinister edge, 'Show me your fire boy!'

With a twisted satisfaction, Tagxart raised his hand. Three more thick rods shuddered free. He then clenched a fist, and the tortured metals spiraled tight around each other, bending and twisting with an eerie screech, creating a formidable weapon according to it's master craftsman's grim vision.

Xod's courage wavered for a brief moment as he witnessed the sheer force and piercing power emanating from the newly created rod. He knew this blow could shatter bones and cripple even the strongest of warriors.

With a fierce yell, he planted one foot firmly behind him, securing a stable footing for the impending strike. His muscles tensed, ready to absorb the impact.

With a flick of his wrist, Tagxart sent the twisted rod hurtling. Where the earlier rods had been swift, this one approached with nightmarish speed, propelled by the full, unrestrained fury of Tagxart's telekinetic power.

It screamed through the air like a banshee as Grixi and Zilvera watched with neutral expressions since this blow was not meant for Mordax.

Just as Xod positioned his hands in front of his chest, Mordax's mind was flooded with a surge of memories. The world around him blurred.