Rudra's presence grew more defined, more imprinted into the very fabric of this nightmare. He was both beautiful and horrifying. The kind of beauty that demanded fear.
And in that moment, with the world covered in blood and death, he stood as the singular force unwavering, unfeeling, and undeniably, undeniably powerful.
Some people survive the brutality of this world not because they're strong, but because they've learned to adapt to its cruelty. They're forged in the fires of pain, their innocence burned away, piece by piece, until nothing remains but the cold, hard shell of survival.
They become like the shadows that follow the light, always present but never seen silent, unyielding, and empty of the softness that once defined them. The world demands that they break, but they don't. Instead, they bend, twist, and morph into something unrecognizable. The brutality shapes them, molds them into weapons, even as they lose their humanity in the process.
Surviving isn't enough anymore. They learn that to endure is to become the thing they once feared, the thing they once hated. They become echoes of the violence around them, reflections of the cruelty they were forced to witness.
And when they look back, they don't remember the pain. They only remember the lessons it taught them: Trust no one. Fear no one. And above all, never trade your survival with anything.
For in a world this unforgiving, to be soft is to die. And those who survive must carry that weight, that truth, in their hearts forever.
-----
My gaze was cold, yet there was an unsettling calmness in my voice as I spoke, breaking the silence that had thickened around me.
"Can I get some warm water to wash this off?"
The room was still silent as everyone's eyes locked onto me, as though my request was absurd given the bloodbath around us. The master, his expression were unreadable, gave a curt command. "No. 2, bring some warm water."
The quiet hum of the room echoed as No. 1, still shaken by the gruesome spectacle, turned to the master with a question that had been gnawing at him. His voice was like a whisper, yet it carried a weight of disbelief.
"How did he do that?"
The master's voice was chilling, cold as the wind in a forgotten wasteland. "It's like a condition," he said, his eyes narrowing as if to peer into the unfathomable depth of my soul.
No. 2, who'd been standing quietly, interjected. "For what?"
The master hesitated, as though wrestling with a truth too heavy to speak aloud. "It was all part of the ceremony of sacrifice."
No one said a word. The implication hung thick in the air.
"I don't know how he did it," the master continued, the cold in his tone now more apparent than ever. "But I've seen this ceremony before. What he holds within him, only he understands. How he came to know that language… it's beyond me. I only know one thing."
He took a deep breath, his eyes locked on me as if trying to read my very essence. "The First Heaven must've given it to him. Lord must have chosen him as his successor"
I washed the blood off my body, each drop falling like a death toll as the words that had once burned into my skin now glowed with a strange, eerie light. The place had become stifling, oppressive, the air thick with uncertainty.
The master, eyes narrowed, couldn't hide his fascination. "What's happening now?" he asked, voice tight with expectation.
My expression remained unchanged as I replied, my voice flat of any emotion, yet heavy with finality. "It's the last spell. It'll send me to where I'm destined to be."
The master couldn't help but smile, though there was something sinister in his grin. "So, all of this... was to fulfill the last spell? To claim your place in this world?" He chuckled, though the sound was hollow. "Amusing."
My cold eyes locked with the master's, and my next words struck like a blade. "Don't mistake my silence for submission. This isn't about finding a place. It's about something deeper..."
The air around us seemed to pulse with an energy that neither of us fully understood, as if the world itself held its breath in anticipation. I continued, my voice now sharper, colder than ever. "The book says...
" First heavens will "will appear at the First Heaven's throne."
A blinding light enveloped me, and in an instant, I was no longer standing in that darkened chamber. The weight of the world seemed to crush in on me, and before I could even process the sensation, the darkness swallowed me whole.
When my senses returned, I was standing in an icy, desolate room. The air was thick with the scent of cold stone and forgotten light. There was no light, no warmth only shadows that clung to the corners, whispering..
I moved forward, with silent footsteps . But then, I stumbled, my foot catching on something, and my body collided with a cold, unyielding object. A chair.
A voice, smooth as silk but heavy with authority, cut through the silence. "Hey, who are you?"
I turned sharply to face the source of the voice. From the darkness, a figure emerged a young boy, sitting with an air of indifference in the corner of the room. His features were exquisite, too perfect to be real. His skin, smooth as the finest fabric, shimmered in the faintest light, while his eyes blue as the endless sky shone with a light of their own.
I stood frozen for a moment, a strange sensation stirring deep within me. It was then that I realized the boy before me, so impossibly regal and otherworldly was the one to whom I truly belonged.
My thoughts whispered to me in the cold silence. " So this is where I belong."
The prince stood, his posture commanding as the wind from the open window blew his dark hair back. The world outside the window seemed to fall away, leaving only him, and me, standing in the center of destiny. The air in the room was heavy, thick with meaning that neither of us had yet to understand fully.
"Who are you?" the boy repeated, this time his voice softer, tinged with curiosity.
I remained silent, looking around the dark room. My destiny was written, yet still, something gnawed at the back of my mind. I'd arrived here, but was this truly where I was meant to be?
The prince's boys eyes narrowed, studying me as though searching for something beyond my expressionless face.
I didn't need to answer. The silence between us spoke the volumes...