Erik sat on the edge of his bed, the dim light of his room casting long shadows across the walls. His hand idly turned the fragment over and over, its smooth, dark surface glinting faintly. It felt warm to the touch, as if alive, humming with an energy he couldn’t quite comprehend.

For days, the fragment had lingered in his thoughts, especially after the strange sensation during sparring.

Tonight, Erik couldn’t ignore it any longer. The weight of everything—the lessons about demons, his father’s coldness, Claire’s unshakable shadow—pressed heavily on him. The fragment seemed to almost whisper to him, urging him to act.

He tightened his grip on the shard. What are you? Why do I feel like you’re important? His questions hung unanswered in the stillness of the room. For the first time, Erik resolved to find out.

Drawing a deep breath, Erik focused inward. The steady flow of Ki, warm and familiar, spread through his body. Slowly, he guided the energy into the fragment. At first, it did nothing, lying inert in his palm. Then, a faint light began to flicker within, growing steadily brighter with each passing second.

Erik’s heart pounded as he stared at the glowing shard. It’s reacting! He cut off the flow of Ki and hesitated, beads of sweat forming on his brow. He had no idea what would happen if he pushed further, but his curiosity burned stronger than his fear.

Swallowing his anxiety, Erik reached for the unfamiliar energy he had felt during sparring: Mana.

Unlike Ki, Mana was wild and volatile, surging through him like a storm. He struggled to control it, guiding it toward the fragment with effort. The reaction was instant.

The fragment erupted with a blinding light, forcing Erik to shield his eyes. He felt a sharp pull in his chest, and before he could react, the shard shot forward, piercing him just above his heart.

“No!” Erik gasped, clutching his chest. He staggered back, falling to his knees. His fingers scrabbled at his shirt, but there was no wound—only the faint heat of the fragment, now gone from his hand.

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For a moment, nothing happened. Erik’s breathing slowed, his panic giving way to a creeping sense of disappointment. “Is that it?” he whispered hoarsely.

Then the pain hit.

A blinding headache overwhelmed him, forcing him to the ground. The world spun, and his vision dissolved into a sea of light and shadow. When the pain subsided, Erik opened his eyes to find himself somewhere entirely different.

He stood in the midst of a vast battlefield. The air was thick with the smell of blood and smoke, the ground littered with rubble and shattered weapons. Towering figures clashed in the distance, their forms glowing with an otherworldly brilliance. Their movements were swift, precise, and devastating, each strike shaking the ground like a thunderclap.

Erik’s breath caught in his throat. These beings—whoever or whatever they were—were beyond anything he had ever seen. Their sheer power was suffocating, as though the world itself bent to their will.

In the center of the chaos, a figure wielding a black and silver staff fought against a shadowy, monstrous entity. The staff glowed with ancient runes, and each swing released waves of energy that tore through the battlefield. Erik’s gaze was drawn to it, mesmerized by the weapon’s intricate design and the way it seemed to radiate authority.

Surrounding the two combatants, other figures clashed, their forms blurring with motion. Erik couldn’t tell who they were or why they fought, but the intensity of their battle left him speechless. Above them, the sky was fractured, streaked with bursts of light and shadow as the battlefield itself seemed to collapse under the weight of their conflict.

One of the figures—a warrior clad in radiant gold armor—caught Erik’s attention. He moved with a terrifying grace, cutting through enemies with brutal efficiency. Despite the carnage around him, his focus never wavered. Erik couldn’t see his face, but the weight of the warrior’s presence was enough to make him tremble.

Suddenly, the golden warrior turned. Though his face remained hidden, Erik felt as though the figure was looking directly at him. The sensation froze him in place, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Awaken.”

The word echoed in Erik’s mind, not as a command but as a promise.

Before he could react, the vision shattered like glass, leaving Erik back in his room. He lay sprawled on the floor, his body drenched in sweat and his hands trembling uncontrollably. The world felt distant, his mind still reeling from what he had just witnessed.

“W-what was that?” Erik whispered, his voice trembling.

His hands instinctively moved to his chest, but the fragment was gone—absorbed into him. The vision lingered, its vivid images refusing to fade. He didn’t know who or what those beings were, but he knew one thing for certain: the fragment was far more than it seemed.

And whatever it had shown him, it was only the beginning.