The room was silent—too silent.
Only the faint hum of the Abyssal core could be heard, pulsing beneath the obsidian floor like a massive, living heart. The battle was over, but the screams still echoed in Adrian's mind. He could still see their faces — the soldiers who dared to defy him, the ones who once called him brother.
All gone.
Adrian stood amidst the aftermath. The air smelled of iron and ash. His sword—no, his will—still dripped with blackened blood that evaporated before touching the ground. His cloak, tattered and scorched, fluttered weakly against the chill wind that crept through the broken citadel.
His breathing was heavy, ragged. Not from exhaustion, but from something deeper.
From emptiness.
He lifted his gaze toward the great mirror at the far end of the hall — a relic from the old kingdom, once used to bless knights before battle. Now, it reflected only a fractured image: a man with hollow eyes and shadows crawling beneath his skin.
"...How far have I fallen?"
The whisper escaped his lips before he could stop it. His voice sounded foreign, distorted — as if another being spoke through him.
"You haven't fallen," a voice answered.
Adrian's hand froze. The voice was soft, calm — and it came from within.
"You've ascended."
The shadows stirred, wrapping around his shoulders like loyal servants. The air vibrated, and for a heartbeat, he saw it: a shape, human-like, standing behind him in the reflection. Eyes gleaming violet. A smile curved with both serenity and madness.
The Abyss itself.
"You were cast aside," it whispered, "rejected, humiliated. But they cannot ignore what you've become. You are the balance they feared — the one who will tear their light apart."
Adrian's jaw clenched. "And what happens when the balance collapses?"
The entity laughed — not loud, but cold and endless.
"Then you rebuild the world from the ashes."
The shadows around him deepened, crawling up his arms, his neck, his face. He could feel them pulse in rhythm with his heartbeat, burning and comforting at once. His human side screamed to resist, but his mind… had long since stopped caring.
"Arthur… still breathes."
The name emerged like venom.
His hand trembled slightly. A faint spark of something — not hate, but sorrow — flickered deep inside him.
Memories surged: Arthur laughing under the sunlight, training together, swearing oaths to protect the weak. Back then, Adrian had believed in heroes.
He almost smiled — but it didn't reach his eyes.
Now he was what heroes fought against.
"Prepare the Gate," he ordered aloud. His voice carried through the vast throne room, reaching the soldiers and lieutenants kneeling before him. Their faces were hidden behind armor of bone and steel, forged in darkness.
"Yes, my lord," they answered in unison, their tones lifeless.
As they vanished into the shadows to obey, Adrian descended the steps of his throne. The hall trembled faintly as he walked — the Abyss responding to his intent. Each step left faint trails of violet fire that quickly faded into mist.
He stopped at the massive balcony overlooking the world below.
Far beneath, he could see it — the fractured lands of Europe, burning in silence. Kingdoms divided, heroes scattered, people praying to gods who no longer answered.
A small, bitter smile touched his lips. "This is what your justice built, Arthur. A paradise of corpses."
He spread his arms, and the wind howled around him. From the clouds above, black streaks of energy fell like rain — feeding the darkness spreading across the ground.
Every time the Abyss grew stronger, he felt his humanity weaken. Yet every time he tried to suppress it, it only fought back harder.
Maybe this was his fate.
Maybe he was never meant to be the hero they wanted.
---
Meanwhile, in the deepest part of the Citadel, two figures watched their master in silence.
One, a woman with eyes like silver glass — Iris, once a high priestess of the Heroic Order, now corrupted into one of Adrian's generals.
The other, a towering man wrapped in obsidian armor — Kael, commander of the Abyssal Guard.
"He's losing himself," Iris whispered. "The more he merges with the Abyss, the more unstable he becomes."
Kael's metallic voice rumbled. "And yet he grows stronger. Soon, no force on this earth will be able to challenge him."
She turned toward him sharply. "Strength means nothing if the man behind it fades away."
Kael tilted his head. "You speak as if you still believe he can be saved."
Iris didn't respond. Her gaze lingered on Adrian's distant figure — the man she once followed for hope, now ruling over despair.
"…He once smiled, you know," she murmured. "He used to look at the world with wonder. Now, he looks at it with pity."
Kael remained silent.
Above them, thunder rolled. The world was trembling — not from storms, but from Adrian's presence alone.
---
Adrian turned away from the balcony as lightning split the sky. His eyes glowed brighter — two shards of the void itself.
The Abyss within whispered again.
> "The world rejected you. Now make it beg for your return."
He stepped forward.
The black fire coiled around his arm, forming a spectral blade — one that seemed alive, whispering in thousands of voices.
He named it Eclipse.
With it, he would carve the path to the end.
---
That night, as the storm raged across the corrupted skies, Adrian stood alone in the great hall. His soldiers had already gone to prepare the Gate that would open the way to the surface.
He closed his eyes, feeling the faint heartbeat of the world beneath him. Somewhere, across the distance, he felt another pulse — pure, determined, radiant.
Arthur.
He opened his eyes, and the shadows surged violently, shaking the entire Citadel.
"So… you're coming," he whispered.
A faint, cold smile curved his lips. "Good. Let's see if your light can reach me this time."
The darkness swallowed him whole.