"Are you awake, lamb?"
A deep, demonic voice reverberated through the endless void, shattering the silence like glass under pressure.
"I suppose you're different from the rest of the pitiful flock," it continued, the echo of its words slithering like shadows in the oppressive darkness. "Though, it hardly matters now."
The voice curled with amusement before falling into a curious hum.
"I'm here to ask you… do you desire power?"
The man floated weightlessly, thoughts spiraling in confusion, his breath shallow—if he even breathed at all in this place.
Why am I here? he wondered, reaching for the fragments of his fading memory.
Then it struck him like a dagger through his heart.
"…Right. It's all because of that damned king," he spat, hatred lacing every syllable. His blood boiled, or whatever remained of it. The betrayal, the lies—it all came crashing back with merciless clarity.
"And the price?" he muttered, before shaking his head, teeth gritted. "No. It doesn't matter. I have nothing left to lose."
His voice cracked, raw and desperate, echoing into the vast emptiness.
The voice chuckled, a low, twisted sound that slithered into his ears like poison.
"Interesting… Very well, you intrigue me. I'll make you an offer. I shall grant you my power and abilities in exchange for… a portion of your soul… and your body. How does that sound?"
"Take it," he answered without hesitation, his voice like steel. "But… who are you?"
"That is none of your concern, mortal," the voice replied coldly. "You may call me Moonlight, if a name comforts you. But tell me… why do you want this power? What will you use it for?"
The man's eyes—if he still had any—burned with fury.
"I will reshape this world in my image. It is broken. Rotten. And if I can't remake it… I'll reduce it to ashes. I'll stand alone amidst the inferno of a world that deserved to die. And when the fire fades, maybe then I'll find a new reason to exist."
Moonlight was silent for a time. Then came a whisper—soft, sharp, and chilling.
"Why?"
Such a simple question. Yet it pierced him deeper than any blade.
Why?
What drove him to this madness?
"…It all started," he whispered, voice trembling like a dying flame, "five years ago."
Five Years Ago
In the mighty kingdom of Ithildin, three noble houses stood above all others:
The Rosevelts, unrivaled masters of martial combat.
The Ashbournes, supreme wielders of arcane power.
And the Arcadias, famed for their legendary swordsmanship.
Among the Arcadias were two siblings whose names echoed across the realm: Valia Arcadia, the "Vanquisher of Evil," and her younger brother Zaion Arcadia, a prodigy loyal to crown and country.
By nineteen, Zaion had done the impossible—honored in battle, praised by nobles and commoners alike. Valia, meanwhile, had carved her name into legend with each demon she struck down. They were the pride of their family… until everything changed.
It was a day like any other. Zaion had just completed a monster-hunting mission, now seated atop a hill of bloodied corpses, cleaning his blade.
"Sir Zaion," one of the Vastolan soldiers approached, panting slightly. "We found traces of the remaining beasts in a nearby cave. Will you accompany me?"
Zaion stood, sheathing his sword. "Lead the way."
As they ventured deeper into the cave, something gnawed at him—an uneasy weight in his gut. The cave stank of decay and dust. Ancient runes lined the stone walls.
Zaion whispered, "These… I've seen them before."
Before he could remember where, the earth groaned. A great stone gate opened before him, revealing a treasure trove—glittering gold, forgotten weapons, and at its heart…
A crystal, glowing like a galaxy.
Inside it shimmered a single constellation: Cancer.
"What is this?" Zaion muttered, stepping closer.
But then—pain.
A sudden thrust. Cold steel in his gut.
He turned—betrayal painted the face of the soldier he had trusted.
"Wha—" Zaion choked out, but before he could speak again, his head was severed.
In those final moments, he heard his killer murmur one name—
"…the Artifact of Cancer."
The Void
"…So that's my story, Moonlight," Zaion said bitterly. "Now tell me—what power will you give me?"
"Hm… Let's see…" Moonlight mused, amused. "I shall give you two gifts."
"First: Immortality. You will return as a living corpse—undying, unaging, unfeeling. You cannot die, even if you wish it.
Second: Gluttony—the ability to consume the essence of your enemies and absorb their abilities. Magic, strength, bloodlines—it all becomes yours."
Zaion smiled for the first time in years—cold, sharp, unkind.
"Perfect. I'll accept."
"Then arise, Zaion Arcadia. Return to the world of the living… and show them the wrath of the forsaken."
Rebirth
Darkness.
Cold.
Claustrophobia.
Zaion's eyes snapped open, but saw nothing. He was bound in a tight, silent prison.
"…A coffin?" he muttered, voice hoarse.
He could barely move. But then—he remembered.
Magic.
Channeling what little he could muster, Zaion whispered, "Ignis…"
A fireball exploded inside the coffin, shattering the lid and dirt alike. Debris flew. A hand burst from the grave.
Zaion crawled out, steam rising from his fleshless skin.
He stood in the moonlight, trembling.
"…No pain," he whispered, staring at his charred hands. "So… it wasn't a metaphor after all. I really am… dead."
With a bitter chuckle, he turned and walked toward civilization.
Zaion raided a local clothing merchant under the cover of night. He dressed himself in shadows—
A black and gold robe, a crescent-moon mask to hide his corpse-like face, and gloves to conceal his pale skin.
He was no longer the hero of Ithildin.
Now, he was something else entirely.
As he walked the kingdom's roads, he saw statues bearing his likeness—praising him as a fallen hero.
"Lies," he muttered, teeth clenched. "All of it."
Even worse, he saw the people worshiping the king… as if he were some divine savior.
"…He used it," Zaion hissed. "He used the Artifact of Cancer."
He abandoned his plan to return home. It would only put him in the king's path. And Zaion was not yet ready.
Not yet.
Five Months Later
He vanished beyond Ithildin's borders, training in the wild, killing beasts and men alike.
Each kill fed his power.
Each soul consumed gave him new abilities:
Elemental control.
Shapeshifting.
Curses.
Illusions.
And more.
But power was not enough.
Now, it was time the world remembered his name.
And how best to do that?
Chaos.
TO BE CONTINUED…