Chapter 5: Beyond the Realms
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The past isn't as simple as it once was.
If it were, then maybe—just maybe—we could go back and change it. But that would cost us something. As the law of equivalent exchange says: humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost.
—
I stirred, the heaviness in my limbs making it a struggle to move. My mind swam in a sea of fog, trying to piece together fragments of memory. What had happened? How had I ended up here?
I forced my eyes open and stared at the sky—or what could be called a sky. It was black, with gray lines streaking across it like cracks in a fractured mirror. The air was heavy, oppressive, and the light—or lack of it—seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once.
I sat up slowly, my muscles protesting with each movement. The ground beneath me was soft and damp, covered in grass as white as freshly fallen snow. To my left, a body of water stretched endlessly, its surface a deep, unnatural purple.
"This isn't... real," I muttered, my voice cracking in the stillness.
I turned in a slow circle, taking in the surreal landscape. No mountains, no forests, no cities—nothing. Just this strange, alien expanse that seemed to go on forever.
"This is the in-between?" I whispered to myself, trying to make sense of it all.
A thought interrupted me. "No... this is limbo. Why am I in limbo?"
Panic threatened to take hold as my thoughts spiraled, memories flashing through my mind in rapid succession. The last thing I remembered was fighting Phantom, the clash of power, and then... nothing.
I clenched my fists, digging my nails into my palms to steady myself. My breathing slowed as I focused on grounding my thoughts, but one name broke through the haze in my mind like a lightning strike.
"Nexus."
The name sent a jolt through my chest, filling me with a mix of dread and determination. My son. My responsibility.
"Where is he?" I muttered, my voice gaining strength. "If I'm here... does that mean he's out there? Alone?"
I stood on unsteady legs, the ground beneath me feeling almost weightless. The surreal nature of this place made everything feel distant, disconnected, like a half-formed dream teetering on the edge of waking.
"Nexus," I said again, this time louder. "I'll find you. I don't care what this place is, or what it takes. I'll find you."
The air around me stirred, as if responding to my resolve. The gray lines in the sky seemed to shift, forming patterns that I couldn't understand. For a moment, I thought I saw movement in the distance—a shadow, faint but real.
I didn't hesitate. I took a step forward, then another, my instincts driving me toward whatever lay ahead.
Walking through this place was like moving through a dream—a dream that refused to let me wake. The landscape twisted and changed with every step. The white grass sometimes gave way to patches of black sand, the purple water bubbling ominously when I got too close.
Time felt meaningless here. There was no sun, no moon, no stars—just the ever-present black sky with its shifting gray lines.
As I walked, the silence grew louder, pressing against my ears like a physical weight. It felt like I was losing my soul. Then, without warning, a voice echoed through the emptiness.
"Why do you walk, oh lost one of God?"
I froze, scanning the area. The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.
"Lost one of God?" I replied Lost in my train of thought. "I'm looking for someone," I said, my voice steady despite the unease creeping up my spine.
The air seemed to ripple, and a figure materialized before me. It was humanoid but featureless, its form shimmering like heatwaves. This individual is someone not to mess with, as Atlas' body began to shiver.
"To search in limbo is to seek what is lost," it said, its voice echoing unnaturally. "What do you hope to find?"
"My son," I replied firmly. "He's out there, and I need to get back to him."
The figure tilted its head, as if considering my words. "And what will you give to escape this place? This Limbo of mine demands a price for passage."
My fists clenched at my sides. "I'll pay whatever it takes."
The figure's form shifted, elongating as it gestured to the horizon. "Then prove your worth, oh child of God. Find your path, and perhaps you will find the boy you seek."
Before I could ask what it meant, the figure dissolved into a wisp of smoke, leaving me alone once more.
The landscape began to change again, the ground beneath my feet growing more unstable. Strange formations jutted out of the earth—twisted pillars of obsidian, glowing faintly with a sickly green light.
As I pressed on, each step feeling heavier as the oppressive energy of this place weighed down on me. My thoughts turned to Nexus, the image of him holding Retro's broken sword flashing in my mind.
"What is this? My shadow sense is working by itself." I thought to myself.
He's strong, I reminded myself. Stronger than I was at his age.
But even so, the thought of him facing whatever dangers this world held alone made my chest tighten.
As I climbed over a ridge of jagged rocks, the terrain leveled out, revealing a massive structure in the distance. It was unlike anything I'd ever seen—a towering monolith made of black stone, its surface etched with glowing runes that pulsed like a heartbeat.
The path to the monolith was littered with obstacles—shards of crystal that erupted from the ground, streams of purple liquid that hissed and steamed as they carved through the earth. But I didn't stop.
The closer I got to the structure, the more the air seemed to vibrate with energy. My instincts screamed at me to turn back, but I ignored them.
Standing before the monolith, I placed my hand on its cold, smooth surface. The runes flared to life, their light blinding as a voice boomed in my mind.
"Do you seek escape, mortal? Or will you remain lost in this purgatory?"
"Let me out," I said, my voice firm. "I have to find my son."
The voice laughed, a deep, echoing sound that seemed to shake the very ground beneath me. "To leave, you must give something in return. What will you offer?"
I hesitated, my mind racing. What could I possibly offer this place? My strength? My memories? My soul?
Before I could answer, a single image filled my mind—Nexus, standing strong despite the weight of the world on his shoulders.
"I'll give whatever it takes," I said finally, my resolve unwavering. "Just let me get back to him."
The monolith pulsed once more, its light consuming everything. The ground beneath me crumbled, and I felt myself falling—falling endlessly into the void.
When I opened my eyes, I was no longer in limbo. The familiar sight of the world greeted me—though I had no idea where I was. But one thing was clear: I had escaped. And I would find Nexus, no matter the cost.
Sitting in the clearing, I looked up at the unnervingly bright sky. The blackness with gray streaks had changed, giving way to a clearer view of something brighter and more familiar, though still surreal. As I stared, a jagged cut formed in the distance, splitting the sky like a blade had torn through its fabric. It was faint but unmistakable, an unnatural scar across an already strange horizon.
I squinted, trying to make sense of it. "What the hell was that?" I muttered to myself. The energy it radiated was unlike anything I'd ever felt—a mixture of destruction and power. Whatever had caused it was far too distant for me to reach. Still, it lingered in the back of my mind like an itch I couldn't scratch.
"Not my problem right now," I said aloud, shaking my head as I got up off the floor. My legs wobbled slightly, but I steadied myself.
Looking around, the landscape had stabilized somewhat, the strange hues of white grass and purple water forming something akin to a barren plain. I stretched, taking a moment to breathe.
"Well, I guess the first order of business is figuring out how to get back to the house," I said, mostly to myself. "This is going to be a long trip."
The thought of the house—the place where everything had started, where Nexus and I had spent so much time—filled me with a flicker of hope. If I could get back there, maybe I could start putting the pieces together. Maybe I could figure out how to reunite with everyone.
I adjusted my gear, dusting off my clothes and checking for anything useful I might have on me. The relic in my pocket pulsed faintly, its presence grounding me amidst the chaos.
"All right," I said, glancing back toward the cut in the sky one last time. "One step at a time."
And with that, I began walking, my resolve firm despite the uncertainty of the path ahead.
As I walked through the strange terrain, I decided it was best to take stock of everything still with me. Reaching into my gear, I ran through a mental checklist. My frost sword relic—intact, its blade cold to the touch even in this surreal environment. My hellfire crossbow relic—still functional, its faint heat reassuring against my side. My transfiguration relic—a powerful tool for altering objects, thankfully undisturbed.
I flipped through the small archive book I always carried, its pages filled with notes, spells, and sketches from past adventures. It was all there. A few other minor items—tools, small relics—remained in their places. That alone was enough to bring a small sense of relief.
Finally, I checked my coin pouch. It wasn't overflowing, but it would suffice for now. Of course, if I ran out, I could always transfigure some materials into temporary currency. Not ideal, but it would do in a pinch.
As I continued walking, I decided to test something. Concentrating, I tried to activate my shadow sight, a skill that allowed me to see hidden threats and pathways in dim or magical environments. But the moment I channeled my mana, a searing pain shot through me. My knees buckled, and I fell, catching myself with one hand on the ground.
"What the—?" I muttered, gasping for breath. My mana was... gone. Just gone.
I scanned my surroundings, expecting an ambush or the presence of a powerful entity that might have drained my magic. But the landscape was eerily still, nothing but the strange white grass and purple waters stretching into the horizon.
"What's with this sudden no mana?" I muttered, clutching my chest as I tried to stabilize myself.
My body felt like it had been drained dry, like I had been wrung out. It didn't make sense. I had barely used any magic since waking up in this place.
Fumbling at my side, I reached into my pack and pulled out a small mana crystal reserve, one of the emergency items I always kept on hand. Holding it tightly, I concentrated on drawing its energy into me. The crystal pulsed faintly, its light dimming as the reserve flowed into my body.
The relief was immediate, though not complete. I could feel the edges of my strength returning, but something still felt off. The drain hadn't been natural—it was as if this place itself had leeched the magic from me.
I stood slowly, my legs still shaky, and slipped the now-dim crystal back into my pack. I couldn't afford to use too many of them, not without knowing what was causing this.
"Guess I'll have to keep my mana use to a minimum for now," I said, my voice low. "At least until I figure out what's going on here."
I adjusted my gear and started walking again, my senses on high alert. Whatever this place was, it wasn't going to make things easy for me.
Later, after hours of walking, I stumbled upon a shallow riverbed. The water glistened with the same unnatural purple hue I had seen earlier, its surface eerily calm as it trickled through the barren landscape. The white grass hugged the river's edges, its stark contrast to the water making the scene even more surreal.
I decided to follow the river, reasoning that it might lead to something—anything—that could give me answers or direction. The flow was slow, winding through the landscape like a vein through flesh.
As I walked, the strange silence of the place pressed down on me. No birds, no insects, no sound beyond the soft trickle of water. It was unnerving, like the entire world was holding its breath.
Eventually, the river widened, and the purple hue began to fade. The grass grew sparse, replaced by smooth, pale sand. I followed the river to its end, where it spilled into a vast ocean. The water here was different—its hue had shifted back to a familiar blue, shimmering under the strange light of this world's sky.
For a moment, I felt a flicker of relief. The sight of something so normal in this alien place was grounding. I stepped closer to the shoreline, the waves lapping gently against the sand.
But as I approached, I felt a strange sensation wash over me, a subtle hum in the air that prickled against my skin. My instincts flared, and I stopped in my tracks.
Reaching out cautiously, I extended my hand toward the water. My fingers met an invisible barrier, solid and unyielding.
"What the...?" I muttered, pressing my hand harder against it. The barrier didn't give, and a faint ripple of energy spread out from the point of contact, shimmering like glass under sunlight.
I stepped back, staring at the ocean and the barrier that separated me from it. Whatever this place was, it wasn't just strange—it was designed. Constructed.
"This... this isn't a natural place," I said aloud, my voice barely above a whisper. "It's meant to keep something—or someone—from leaving."
The realization sent a chill down my spine. If this place was a prison, then I was trapped within it. But for what purpose? And more importantly, how was I supposed to escape?
I glanced at the relic in my pocket, its faint pulse steady and rhythmic, as if urging me forward.
"Guess I'll need to figure this out the hard way," I muttered, turning away from the ocean. The barrier wasn't going to let me pass, but there had to be another way.
I looked back at the strange expanse of land behind me. Whatever answers I needed, they weren't here at the edge of the world. Steeling myself, I began walking once more, determined to uncover the truth about this place—and how to break free of it.
After days of relentless searching, I found nothing. No clues, no signs, no cracks in this oppressive realm to exploit. I was running out of ideas, and the weight of isolation bore down on me like a vice.
The cut in the sky loomed ever-present in the distance, a jagged scar across the void. It pulsed faintly, as if trying to reach someone—or something. I'd tried to reach it, of course. Reality-shifting, reality-warping, even using my relics to test its limits. Nothing worked.
The barrier around this place refused to yield, unbreakable and unwavering. Every attempt left me more drained, more frustrated. Exhaustion clung to me like a second skin, and for a moment, I felt utterly defeated.
I slumped to the ground, my head hanging low as I stared at the dirt beneath me. That's when I saw it—a faint glimmer breaking the monotony of the white grass and gray soil. A small, greenish-yellow gemstone, partially buried in the dirt.
Curiosity piqued, I reached out and picked it up, brushing the dirt away to reveal its smooth surface. It was warm to the touch, faintly glowing as if alive.
And then it hit me.
A surge of emotions crashed over me like a tidal wave, so sudden and intense that I gasped aloud. It wasn't just any emotion—it was anger. Pure, unrelenting rage that burned like molten fire in my veins. My vision blurred, my heart pounded, and my breath came in ragged bursts as the gemstone's energy coursed through me.
I stumbled back, clutching the gemstone tightly even as it overwhelmed me. This wasn't my anger—it was something deeper, darker, and far more primal.
"This... this is Retro's," I realized, the thought slicing through the chaos in my mind. "This is one of his gemstones. A fragment of his soul."
The revelation should have brought clarity, but instead, it only deepened my turmoil. Retro's emotions were raw, unfiltered, and impossibly strong. His anger—so deeply buried beneath his calm exterior—was almost unbearable. It wasn't just rage for its own sake; it was fury born of loss, pain, and countless struggles.
The more I held the gemstone, the more the anger grew. My hands trembled, and a scream tore from my throat, unbidden and uncontrollable. It felt like my very soul was being consumed by the weight of it.
"I can't..." I gasped, tears stinging my eyes. "I can't control this!"
With a desperate cry, I let go of the gemstone, throwing it to the ground. The moment it left my hand, the overwhelming emotions subsided, leaving me breathless and shaking.
I stared at the gemstone lying in the dirt, its faint glow undiminished. For a long moment, I couldn't bring myself to move, the memory of that unbearable anger still fresh in my mind.
"That's... what he carries?" I whispered, my voice hoarse. "How does he manage it? How does he live with that kind of fury inside him?"
The gemstone pulsed faintly, as if in answer, but I didn't dare pick it up again. Instead, I sat there, staring at it and trying to make sense of what it meant. Retro's gemstone had found its way here, a fragment of him in this impossible place.
But why? And more importantly, what was I supposed to do with it?
I couldn't think clearly. My mind was a chaotic storm of emotions, and every thought seemed to scream the same thing: use it to your advantage.
The gemstone lay there in the dirt, glowing faintly, almost beckoning me to pick it up again. My hands twitched with the urge, the temptation to wield its power, to harness the raw fury that had surged through me moments ago. But my instincts screamed against it, warning me that this path would lead to ruin.
I shook my head, trying to banish the swirling thoughts, but my mind was clouded with wrong judgments. My breath quickened as doubt and anger fought for control over me.
And then... it happened.
A single thought pierced through the fog, clear and calm like a ray of light cutting through a storm. It wasn't my own thought—it was Retro's voice.
"Do not let my power consume you."
I froze, the echo of his voice reverberating in my mind.
"Do not let it use you. You must use it against itself. As far as I know, you're the only one capable of using the gemstones."
The words steadied me, anchoring me in the moment. Retro's voice carried weight, authority, and a sense of understanding that calmed the storm within me.
I could see him in my mind's eye, standing tall and resolute, his gaze sharp yet filled with determination.
"Becky could have used it once, but only because of a relic he had. And he was from the future. But you... you're different. You have something inside you that makes you capable. Don't let that slip away."
The words struck deep, shaking me to my core. The turmoil in my mind began to settle, the haze lifting as clarity returned. Retro's warning was more than just advice—it was a lifeline.
I stared at the gemstone, its glow unwavering, and for the first time, I saw it for what it truly was: a fragment of immense power, but one that required control, balance, and strength of will to wield.
I exhaled slowly, my breath steadying. "I won't let it consume me," I whispered to myself, echoing Retro's words. "I'll use it on my terms."
For now, I left the gemstone where it lay, a reminder of what I needed to overcome. Retro's voice had given me focus, but the path forward was still unclear.
With newfound resolve, I stood and looked toward the cut in the sky. Whatever this place was, whatever it wanted, I wouldn't let it break me. I would find a way out, and I would use every tool at my disposal to get there—on my terms.
Days turned into weeks, and by the late afternoon of yet another day, I found myself running around the strange island like a man possessed. The endless white grass, the purple rivers, and the ominous black sky with its jagged cut—it all felt like a twisted loop I couldn't escape.
Everywhere I searched, every corner I explored, led me back to the same conclusion: nothing here would help me. No hidden exits, no pathways, no clues. The only constant was the gemstone—still lying where I had left it, glowing faintly in the eerie light.
It was as if the island itself was speaking to me, or worse, mocking me. A silent voice in my mind kept whispering the same thing:
"Use it. Use the gemstone."
The suggestion gnawed at me, creeping into my thoughts even when I tried to shut it out. I couldn't tell if it was my own subconscious urging me, or something more sinister tied to this place.
I stopped by the shoreline, staring out at the endless ocean and the invisible barrier that separated me from freedom. My fists clenched as frustration bubbled to the surface.
"It feels like a test," I muttered aloud, my voice trembling with a mix of anger and exhaustion. "Like someone's trying to push me... to see what I'll do."
I turned, my gaze drawn once again to the gemstone, still nestled in the dirt where I had dropped it. Its greenish-yellow glow seemed brighter now, almost alive, as if it was waiting for me.
The thought chilled me. If this was a test, then who—or what—was behind it? Was it the island itself? The forces that had trapped me here? Or was it something deeper, tied to Retro and the fragments of his soul?
I took a step toward the gemstone, then stopped, my heart pounding. I could feel its power even from here, that overwhelming rage threatening to surge through me again if I dared to touch it.
But what other choice did I have?
I looked up at the cut in the sky, its jagged edges pulsing faintly. It had remained unchanged since I first arrived, a constant reminder of how far I was from understanding this place.
"Fine," I muttered, my resolve hardening. "If this is a test, then I'll pass it. On my terms."
I approached the gemstone slowly, my breath steadying as I prepared myself. If I was going to use it, I needed control—absolute control. No hesitation, no fear.
As I reached down, my fingers hovered over the gemstone, the air around it buzzing with energy. This time, I wouldn't let it consume me. This time, I would use its power for myself.
And whatever lay ahead... I'd be ready for it.
As my hand came down onto the gemstone, the moment my fingers touched its surface, everything went blank.
No thoughts.
No emotions.
Just an empty void, a vast nothingness that swallowed me whole.
For what felt like an eternity, I floated in that blank space, detached from everything. Time had no meaning here, and I couldn't tell if seconds or years had passed. The overwhelming rage I had felt before was gone, replaced by... nothing.
Then, like a thunderclap in a silent world, a new emotion struck me.
Sadness.
It hit me with the force of a tidal wave, crashing over me and pulling me under. My chest tightened, my breath hitched, and tears began to fall before I even realized what was happening.
Uncontrollable sobs wracked my body, and I fell to my knees, clutching the gemstone as memories surged into my mind. They weren't mine. They belonged to Retro.
Scenes played out before me like fragments of a broken mirror, each one more vivid and heartbreaking than the last. I saw Retro standing in the middle of a battlefield, his sword in hand, his face hardened with resolve. Around him lay devastation—friends and foes alike reduced to ash and ruin. The weight of their loss bore down on him, though he refused to let it show.
Another memory flashed—Retro kneeling in a ruined village, cradling the body of a young girl. Her lifeless eyes stared back at him, and his face twisted with grief. He whispered something I couldn't hear, his tears falling onto her bloodstained clothes.
More images followed, each one more painful than the last. A lover's betrayal, the death of comrades, the isolation of a man burdened with too much power and too many scars.
I felt it all—his grief, his regret, his unrelenting sadness. It wasn't just sadness for what he had lost, but for the weight of his choices, the people he couldn't save, and the person he had become.
I clutched my chest, the weight of Retro's emotions nearly suffocating me. The tears wouldn't stop, pouring freely as the sadness overwhelmed me.
"How... how does he carry this?" I choked out, my voice trembling.
It wasn't just grief—it was an ocean of sorrow, a deep well of pain that Retro had carried with him for years. I could feel his resolve buried beneath it, the determination that kept him moving forward despite the endless burden.
But in this moment, all I could feel was the sadness. It was raw and unfiltered, cutting through me like a knife.
"Retro..." I whispered, my voice breaking. "How do you endure this?"
The gemstone pulsed in my hand, its glow steady and unwavering, as if responding to my question. Slowly, the memories began to fade, leaving me alone in the clearing once more. The sadness lingered, but it was no longer overwhelming.
I stared down at the gemstone, its greenish-yellow hue almost soothing now. It wasn't just a fragment of Retro's power—it was a fragment of him. His soul, his memories, his pain.
For the first time, I understood the burden he carried. It wasn't just his strength or his bloodlust that made him formidable—it was his ability to endure, to keep moving forward despite the weight of everything he had lost.
I wiped the tears from my face, my breathing still shaky. "If he can bear this... so can I," I said softly, my voice steadying with each word.
Clutching the gemstone tightly, I stood. It wasn't just a test of power—it was a test of will. And now, more than ever, I was determined to see it through.
I looked up at the cut in the sky, its jagged edges glowing faintly. This wasn't over. Not by a long shot. But for the first time, I felt like I could face it—like I had the strength to move forward.
"Let's see where this road takes me," I said, my resolve hardening as I took the first step toward whatever lay ahead.
After calming down, steadying my breath, and piecing my resolve back together, I stood tall, clutching the gemstone tightly in my hand. The flood of Retro's sadness had shaken me, but it had also strengthened me. I was ready to face whatever this place—whatever this test—threw at me.
Looking up at the jagged sky, I let out a defiant yell, my voice echoing across the strange landscape.
"If this is a test, then hit me with everything you've got!"
For a moment, the world remained still, eerily quiet. The only sound was my own breathing as I waited, tense and expectant. Then, without warning, the memories struck again.
This time, the rush of emotions was different. It wasn't the overwhelming sadness that had brought me to my knees before. Instead, it was something else—love and joy.
The sensation hit me like a warm wave, enveloping me in its embrace. But it wasn't without pain. The intensity of it, the depth of Retro's emotions, was almost too much to bear.
I saw flashes of his life again, but these were moments of happiness. Genuine, unfiltered joy.
In one memory, Retro stood in a sunlit field, surrounded by people. They were laughing, their faces filled with warmth and affection. Retro's smile was wide, his eyes alight with a rare sense of peace. A small child ran up to him, tugging on his coat, and he knelt to lift them into his arms, spinning them around as their laughter filled the air.
In another, Retro sat at a worn wooden table, sharing a meal with a group of friends. The light from a crackling fire danced across their faces as they joked and teased one another. The camaraderie, the love they shared—it was palpable.
A third memory flashed by—a quiet moment, Retro sitting beneath a tree with someone. Their faces were blurred, but the warmth between them was undeniable. They spoke softly, their hands brushing against one another, and Retro's expression was one of unguarded contentment.
Though the memories were filled with love and joy, they weren't without their weight. Each one carried an undercurrent of pain—a reminder that these moments were fleeting, that the people Retro had loved were no longer with him.
I felt my chest tighten, my eyes stinging with tears once again. This wasn't like the overwhelming sadness from before. This was bittersweet—a mixture of happiness for what had been and grief for what was lost.
"It's... beautiful," I whispered, my voice trembling. "But it hurts."
The warmth of Retro's love was easy to bear compared to the crushing weight of his sadness, but it still left a mark. The sheer depth of his emotions, the strength it took to carry them, was staggering.
For a moment, I felt as though I was standing in Retro's shoes, experiencing the joy and love he had felt firsthand. And then, just as suddenly, the memories faded, leaving me alone once more.
I dropped to my knees, the gemstone slipping from my hand and landing softly in the white grass. I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to steady my breathing.
"That was..." I trailed off, unable to find the words.
It wasn't just a test of power or strength—it was a test of the soul. This place, this challenge, was forcing me to experience the depths of Retro's emotions.
"Love and joy," I murmured, staring at the gemstone. "He carried so much of it, even with all the pain. How did he do it?"
The air around me felt lighter, as if the world itself had shifted in response to my resolve. I reached down, picking up the gemstone again, its glow steady and unwavering.
"If this is a test, I'll face it," I said softly, my voice gaining strength. "I'll bear the weight of his emotions, just like he did. And I'll prove that I can carry this burden."
The gemstone pulsed faintly, almost as if acknowledging my words. I stood, my gaze fixed on the horizon. The test wasn't over, but I was ready for whatever came next.
This time, I wouldn't falter. I would face Retro's past, his power, and his emotions head-on. And I wouldn't stop until I found the way forward.
After some time, there was nothing. No memories, no echoes of Retro's emotions, no more visions of his past. Just silence.
The stillness was unnerving at first, but it gave me the chance to regain my bearings. Holding the gemstone in my hand, I turned it over carefully, feeling its weight, its warmth. It seemed calm now, its glow steady and unthreatening.
I raised the gem to the sky, the fractured black expanse above reflecting faintly in its surface. The greenish-yellow light pulsed gently, almost as if it were alive. For a moment, I felt at peace, like I was beginning to understand its significance.
Then, without warning, it all hit me.
A tidal wave of emotions crashed into me, so overwhelming that I dropped the gemstone. My body began to shake uncontrollably, my knees buckling as the weight of Retro's existence bore down on me.
Love. Joy. Sadness. Anger. Fear.
Each emotion hit harder than the last, an unrelenting storm that tore through my mind and soul. But it didn't stop there. This time, it wasn't just feelings—I saw his memories.
All of them.
Images flooded my mind, flashing too quickly for me to process but vivid enough to leave an impression. I saw Retro standing alone in an endless void, watching as stars were born and galaxies formed around him. I saw worlds rise and fall, civilizations growing and thriving only to crumble into dust.
I saw him battle gods, his sword cutting through divine beings as easily as it did mortal foes. I saw him destroy relics of unimaginable power, shattering them with a single swing.
And then... I saw him alone. Always alone. Wandering through eons, watching everything change while he remained the same.
The sheer length of his existence hit me like a sledgehammer. Billions of years. Perhaps even longer than time itself. Retro wasn't just old—he was ancient, a being whose existence stretched far beyond what I could comprehend.
The weight of his memories pressed down on me, each one heavier than the last.
I fell to my knees, my body trembling violently. My vision blurred as tears streamed down my face. My chest felt like it was going to explode, the emotions tearing through me like shards of glass.
And then, the pain turned physical. A sharp, burning sensation welled up in my throat, and I coughed hard, blood splattering onto the white grass below me.
I clutched my chest, gasping for air, but it felt like I was drowning under the sheer weight of Retro's past.
"I... I can't..." I whispered hoarsely, my voice barely audible.
The memories were too much. The emotions were too intense. I wasn't ready for the full weight of Retro's existence—not yet.
The gemstone lay in the grass, its glow dimmer now, as if acknowledging that I couldn't handle its full power. My trembling hand reached for it, but I hesitated.
"How... how does he live with this?" I choked out, staring at the gem. "How does he carry this for so long?"
I closed my eyes, tears still falling. Retro's strength wasn't just physical or magical—it was his ability to endure. To bear the unbearable. To keep moving forward despite the weight of everything he had seen and felt.
I wasn't ready. I could admit that now. The test wasn't just about using the gemstone—it was about understanding it.
I sat there for what felt like hours, my breathing slowly evening out as I tried to process what I had seen and felt. The blood on the grass was a stark reminder of how close I had come to breaking entirely.
When I finally stood, my legs were shaky, but my resolve was stronger. I picked up the gemstone, holding it carefully in my hand.
"I'll get there," I said softly, more to myself than anyone else. "But not yet. I need to be stronger. Strong enough to carry this weight."
The gem pulsed faintly, almost as if it understood. I tucked it carefully into my pocket and turned my gaze back to the horizon. The cut in the sky was still there, waiting for me.
I wasn't ready yet—but I would be. And when the time came, I'd carry Retro's legacy forward, no matter how heavy it was.
After tucking the gemstone away, its faint glow grew stronger, pulsing from my pocket. At first, I ignored it, my gaze shifting toward the sky. For the first time in what felt like a month, the endless blackness above began to change.
The sky softened into deep hues of blue and purple, the jagged gray lines fading as stars emerged one by one. It was night—true night. The sight caught me off guard, and I stood there, frozen, staring upward.
"It's... beautiful," I murmured, the sheer shift in the world around me momentarily making me forget everything else.
But then the gemstone's glow intensified, pulling my attention back. My heart skipped a beat as I pulled it out of my pocket. Its light wasn't warm or calming this time—it was cold, harsh, and unnerving.
The moment I looked at it, the world around me seemed to twist. My chest tightened, and before I could brace myself, another wave hit me.
This one was different. It wasn't anger, sadness, or even joy.
It was darkness. Pure, unfiltered darkness.
The gemstone fell from my hand as the memories flooded in, stronger and more visceral than anything I had experienced before.
I saw Retro again, but this wasn't the man I thought I knew. His eyes were cold, his face hardened with a cruel resolve. I watched as he unleashed unimaginable destruction—entire cities reduced to ash, countless lives extinguished with a single swing of his sword.
His actions weren't born of necessity or defense. They were deliberate. Precise. Terrifying.
I saw him stand over a field of corpses, his expression unreadable as he wiped the blood from his blade. The ground was soaked red, the air thick with the stench of death, and Retro... he didn't flinch.
More images flashed by—him betraying allies, destroying ancient relics that civilizations had depended on, and facing down gods with a rage that bordered on madness. His actions were calculated, merciless, and absolute.
But it wasn't just the actions that scared me. It was the thoughts behind them. The sheer darkness in his mind, the way he justified every atrocity, every cold-blooded decision. It wasn't mindless evil—it was deliberate.
I backed away from the gemstone, my breathing shallow and ragged. My chest felt tight, my heart racing as the fear consumed me.
"This... this is him?" I whispered, my voice trembling. "This is Retro?"
My legs gave out beneath me, and I fell backward onto the grass, unable to take my eyes off the glowing gemstone. My mind raced, trying to reconcile the Retro I thought I knew with the one I had just seen.
The darkness of his past was too much. The sheer weight of the evil he had committed—the cruelty he was capable of—made me question everything.
"Who... what is he?" I muttered, tears streaming down my face as I tried to steady my breathing.
I wanted to pick up the gemstone, to face it, to prove I was strong enough. But my hands wouldn't move. Fear paralyzed me, the memories of his darkness playing over and over in my mind.
This was the last test—I could feel it. Somehow, I knew. But knowing didn't make it easier.
"I can't," I whispered, shaking my head as I stared at the gemstone. "I can't do it."
The fear gripped me tighter, suffocating me as I lay there. The stars above seemed dimmer now, the darkness around me pressing closer.
Retro's voice echoed faintly in my mind, a memory from before: "Do not let my power consume you."
But how could I not fear him? How could I face the darkness of someone who had done so much, who carried such a terrible weight?
I curled into myself, trembling as the reality of his past bore down on me. For the first time since this test began, I wasn't sure if I could endure.
I sat there trembling, my knees pulled to my chest, trying to calm the storm of fear raging inside me. The glowing gemstone lay a few feet away, its greenish-yellow light casting eerie shadows on the white grass. I couldn't bring myself to reach for it again—not after what it had shown me.
For a moment, I thought of my own life, everything I had endured up to this point. I had been through hell. I had suffered deeply—losing friends and family, betrayed by those I trusted, fighting battles that left scars both seen and unseen. Those memories had shaped me, hardened me, and I thought I had grown strong because of them.
But this?
This was different.
What I had experienced felt like a flicker compared to the inferno that was Retro's past.
His memories played in my mind, vivid and haunting. The cities he had burned, the lives he had ended, the gods he had defied—not out of heroism, but sheer, calculated resolve. Every action carried the weight of someone who had lived for far too long, someone who had seen the beauty of life only to watch it fade again and again. Someone who had been broken and rebuilt so many times that he no longer resembled what he once was.
"What am I supposed to do with this?" I whispered, my voice cracking. "How do you even carry something like that?"
I thought back to the moments of joy and love I had seen in his memories, the rare glimpses of peace in his endless existence. They were beautiful, but they made the darkness even harder to bear. Retro wasn't just a man shaped by tragedy—he was a storm, a force of nature that had seen and done too much.
"What I've gone through is nothing compared to this," I admitted aloud, my voice shaking.
It was humbling, to say the least. All the pain, loss, and betrayal I had endured in my life felt small in the shadow of Retro's existence. It didn't make my struggles any less real, but it put them into perspective.
"He's lived through hell," I murmured, staring at the gemstone. "Over and over again. And he's still standing. How?"
The fear began to ebb slightly, replaced by something else—an ember of understanding. Retro wasn't perfect, far from it. He was flawed, broken in ways I couldn't fully comprehend. But he had endured. He had survived. And somehow, he had chosen to keep moving forward despite the weight of it all.
Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to stand. My legs were unsteady, my body trembling, but I refused to stay down any longer.
"I can't run from this," I said, more to myself than to anyone else. "If Retro can live with it, so can I. I have to."
My gaze fell to the gemstone, its light flickering faintly. The fear was still there, lingering at the edges of my mind, but I wouldn't let it control me. Not anymore.
With slow, deliberate steps, I approached the gemstone. My hands shook as I reached down, but this time, I didn't stop. I picked it up, bracing myself for whatever came next.
If this was the final test, I would face it. No matter how much it hurt, no matter how heavy it was, I wouldn't let Retro's darkness—or my own fear—define me.
Picking up the gemstone again, I braced myself for the onslaught I knew was coming. Retro's past surged into me once more, but this time it was different.
At first, it was chaos—madness and insanity that twisted and tore at the edges of my mind. It was as if I was staring into the fragmented pieces of Retro's soul, shattered by countless centuries of pain and loss. The scenes that played out before me were horrifying and relentless, each one worse than the last.
Retro stood amidst the carnage, his eyes wild, his expression unrecognizable. He wasn't the stoic, composed man I had come to know—he was a force of pure destruction, driven by something primal and uncontrollable.
The memories shifted, revealing the moment that broke him. Retro stood in a field of ash, cradling the lifeless body of a woman. Her features were soft, her expression peaceful, even in death. She was his wife—his anchor to the world, the one who had kept him grounded despite the storms that raged within him.
Losing her shattered him.
I could feel the raw pain, the overwhelming grief that twisted into something darker. Rage. Hatred. A need for vengeance so consuming that it burned away everything else.
Retro's mind spiraled into chaos. He became a monster, lashing out at anything and everything in his path. Cities fell, armies crumbled, and even gods trembled before his wrath. He left nothing but destruction in his wake, his mind consumed by the madness born of his loss.
But then, amidst the chaos, something changed.
Retro stood alone in the ruins of yet another battlefield, his sword dripping with blood, his body trembling. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he hesitated. The madness didn't vanish—it never truly left—but it wavered, replaced by something else: clarity.
I could feel his struggle as if it were my own. The memories became a battle, Retro fighting against himself, against the madness that had taken hold of him. He clutched his head, his screams echoing through the void as he tried to piece himself back together.
It wasn't easy. It wasn't quick.
Every step was a fight. Every moment was a struggle to regain control, to rebuild the person he once was. He wasn't just battling his grief—he was battling the person he had become because of it.
The memories slowed, settling into a quiet scene. Retro stood at the edge of a cliff, staring out at a sea of stars. His sword was at his side, its blade reflecting the faint light. His expression was unreadable, but I could feel the weight of his thoughts.
He wasn't whole. He never would be. The madness, the darkness—it was still there, lurking in the corners of his mind. But he had learned to live with it, to contain it, to channel it into something meaningful.
He had made peace with the fact that he would never fully heal, but he chose to move forward anyway.
The memories faded, and I was left standing in the clearing once more, the gemstone pulsing faintly in my hand. My breathing was ragged, my body trembling from the intensity of what I had just experienced.
I looked down at the gemstone, my mind racing. Retro's journey wasn't just about his power—it was about his resilience. He had faced the depths of madness, clawed his way back from the brink, and learned to carry the weight of his past without letting it destroy him.
Tears welled in my eyes, though I wasn't entirely sure why. Was it sadness? Admiration? A mix of both?
"I understand now," I whispered, my voice hoarse. "It wasn't just about surviving. It was about choosing to live, even when it felt impossible."
I clenched the gemstone tightly, its warmth grounding me. Retro's past was far from perfect, but it wasn't about perfection. It was about persistence, about fighting for something greater than yourself—even when you're broken.
With newfound determination, I stood tall, my gaze turning once again to the jagged cut in the sky. This wasn't just a test. It was a lesson.
And I was ready to take the next step.
As I turned my gaze toward the jagged cut in the sky, a sudden sound broke the stillness near me—a faint rustle, barely audible but enough to put my instincts on high alert. My entire body tensed, and without thinking, I summoned my Sword of Frost at a speed that startled even me.
The blade materialized in my hand in a blur of icy light, the air around it crackling with frost as the temperature plummeted. My reflexes had never been this sharp before, this precise. The sudden surge of power caught me off guard, and for a moment, I faltered, wondering where it had come from.
The weight of the sword in my hand felt heavier, charged with something new—something different.
I whipped around, ready for a fight, my eyes scanning the area for the source of the disturbance. My pulse raced as I spotted a figure standing a few paces away.
My breath hitched.
My mind went blank, like a void swallowing all thought and reason.
The figure wasn't what I expected—not a monster or an enemy. It was a woman, her presence unlike anything I'd ever encountered.
She stood tall and radiant, her long, flowing hair shimmering like threads of sunlight and moonlight intertwined. Her emerald eyes glowed with a gentle yet commanding light, and her robes seemed to ripple like water, shifting between hues of green and gold.
She exuded an aura that made the world around her feel smaller, quieter, as if everything bent to her will without question.
I lowered my sword, my hands trembling. I didn't need an introduction to know who this was.
"Gaia," I whispered, my voice barely audible.
The Goddess of Velithar.
Her gaze met mine, and I felt as though she could see through every layer of my soul, every thought and memory laid bare before her. The weight of her presence was overwhelming, yet there was no malice in her expression—only an unreadable mix of curiosity and something deeper, something ancient.
For a long moment, neither of us spoke. I couldn't. The sheer gravity of who she was rendered me speechless.
Finally, Gaia stepped closer, her movements fluid and deliberate, like the flow of a gentle stream. She stopped just beyond the reach of my sword, her voice soft yet resonant when she spoke.
"You've endured much," she said, her tone calm but carrying a weight that seemed to echo through the space around us. "More than most would survive."
I swallowed hard, my throat dry. "Why... why are you here?" I managed to ask, my voice shaky.
Gaia tilted her head slightly, a small, enigmatic smile touching her lips. "Because you stand on the edge of something far greater than you realize. The tests you've faced, the memories you've borne—they were not without purpose."
Her eyes flicked briefly to the glowing gemstone in my hand. "That fragment you hold carries more than power. It carries history, pain, and resolve—things you will need in the days ahead."
I glanced down at the gemstone, its light steady and warm in my palm. "You... you know about this?"
"I know much, child," she replied, her gaze returning to mine. "More than you can yet comprehend. But what matters now is that you learn to wield what you've been given, to carry the burdens of those who came before you and use them to shape what lies ahead."
I tightened my grip on the gemstone, my thoughts racing. "What lies ahead? What am I supposed to do?"
Gaia stepped closer, her presence enveloping me in a way that was both comforting and unnerving. "That, young one, is for you to decide. But know this: the path you walk will not be easy. It will challenge every part of you—your strength, your resolve, and your heart. You will face trials that will break most, and yet you must endure."
Her voice softened, though it lost none of its power. "Because the fate of Velithar may rest in your hands."
Her words sent a chill down my spine, though I couldn't tell if it was fear or awe. The weight of what she was saying, of what she was implying, settled heavily on my shoulders.
Before I could respond, Gaia reached out, her hand brushing lightly against the gemstone. Its glow intensified for a moment, filling me with a surge of warmth and clarity.
"You are stronger than you know," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Do not fear the darkness, for it is within the shadows that you will find your light."
And then, just as suddenly as she had appeared, Gaia began to fade, her form dissolving into golden light that drifted upward like fireflies.
I stood there, frozen, as her final words echoed in the still air:
"Trust yourself. Trust the power you hold. And trust the journey ahead."
The silence that followed was deafening. I stared at the space where she had stood, my mind struggling to process what had just happened.
Gaia, the Goddess of Velithar, had spoken to me. And she had left me with more questions than answers.
But one thing was clear: my journey was far from over. And the weight of Velithar's fate might very well rest on my shoulders.
As I stood there, still reeling from Gaia's sudden appearance and her cryptic words, a sharp memory surged into my mind, unbidden and vivid. It wasn't mine—it was Retro's.
I closed my eyes as the scene unfolded before me, like watching a fragment of a dream I couldn't escape.
---
Retro stood before Gaia, her presence as commanding as ever, but the atmosphere between them was tense. They were in what looked like a grand hall, its walls scarred from the aftermath of a great battle. Blood still stained the floors, the echoes of war lingering in the air.
Retro's face was hard to read, his usual calm exterior masking something deeper—pain, perhaps, or regret. They spoke, their voices low and serious, but I couldn't make out the words.
One thing stood out, though. Gaia said something to him that struck a nerve. Retro's fists clenched, his jaw tightening as he responded, his tone sharp but restrained. It was about his title—a title he carried, though the memory refused to reveal what it was.
Gaia's expression softened, though sadness filled her eyes.
---
The memory shifted.
I saw Retro lying in a grand chamber, his body bandaged and bruised, clearly recovering from a grueling fight. The room was silent, save for the distant sound of wind howling through shattered windows.
He rose slowly, his movements deliberate, and made his way to the balcony. The view outside was haunting—a world left in ruins, smoke rising from distant cities, the scars of a war etched into the land.
And then... she appeared.
Gaia stood behind him, her radiant form casting a soft glow in the dim light. Retro turned to face her, his expression neutral but weary. For a moment, they simply looked at each other, no words passing between them.
Then Gaia moved swiftly. Too swiftly.
Her hand plunged forward, a blade of divine energy piercing Retro's chest.
The shock on his face was unmistakable, his body tensing as he stumbled backward. Gaia's own face crumpled with anguish, tears streaming down her cheeks as she whispered, "Forgive me."
She pushed him gently, her hands trembling, guiding him backward until he fell into the abyss beyond the balcony.
The void swallowed him whole, its darkness consuming everything.
---
The memory faded, and I gasped, the weight of it leaving me breathless. My hand instinctively went to my chest, as if I could feel the phantom pain of Retro's wound.
"That's how he got here..." I whispered, the pieces falling into place.
Gaia had sent him into the void. She had pushed him into this strange in-between place. And she had done it with tears in her eyes, her voice breaking with sorrow as she begged for his forgiveness.
But why? What had led to that moment? What was Retro's title, and why had it caused such pain and betrayal?
I stared at the sky, the jagged cut still glowing faintly, as if mocking my unanswered questions. The weight of what I had just seen settled heavily on my shoulders.
Gaia's actions had brought Retro to this place. And now, I was here too, tangled in the threads of a story far older and more complex than I could have imagined.
I clenched my fists, my resolve hardening. "Whatever this is, whatever brought him here... I'll figure it out. I'll find the answers. And I'll make it out of this place."
The journey ahead felt even more daunting now, but I couldn't turn back. Not after everything I had seen. Not after knowing what Retro had endured.
I took one last look at the sky before turning away, the gemstone glowing faintly in my pocket.
The path forward was uncertain, but I knew one thing for sure: this was only the beginning.
I took a deep breath and stepped forward, leaving the place where everything had unfolded. The echoes of Gaia's presence, Retro's memories, and the weight of the gemstone still lingered, but I couldn't stand there forever.
As I walked toward the barrier at the edge of the island, I noticed something had changed. The oppressive energy that had once surrounded this place was gone. The air felt lighter, less constricting, as though the barrier itself had weakened—or perhaps it had been lifted entirely.
Standing at the edge, I looked out over the ocean, my eyes settling on an island in the distance. It was faint but unmistakable, a dark silhouette against the dim horizon.
Instinctively, I reached for my power, summoning the ability I rarely dared to use—shadow movement. The shadows beneath me twisted and coiled, their tendrils wrapping around my legs like a comforting embrace.
With a single thought, I moved.
The world around me shifted, folding in on itself as the shadows carried me forward. It wasn't instantaneous—it felt like gliding through a void, weightless yet tethered to some unseen force. When I emerged on the other side, my feet touched the ground of the distant island.
I stood there for a moment, catching my breath. The sheer ease with which I had used the ability startled me. This power, the strength I had gained from the gemstone and the memories, was terrifying. It felt like a force I barely understood, let alone controlled.
Even I was scared of what I could do now.
I clenched my fists, the cold breeze from the ocean brushing against my skin. "I have so many questions," I muttered to myself, my voice low. "Questions that only Retro can answer."
I thought about the memories I had seen—his madness, his darkness, and the unimaginable burden he carried. I needed to understand what had happened to him, why Gaia had sent him into the void, and how it was all connected to this journey we were on.
But for now, there was only one thing to focus on. Getting back to the house.
I looked toward the horizon, where the faint outline of more islands seemed to stretch toward a distant shore. My path was clear, even if the answers were still shrouded in mystery.
"Step by step," I said to myself, taking another deep breath. "Let's get to the house first."
And with that, I began to move forward, the power of the shadows trailing faintly behind me, my resolve growing stronger with each step.
"I can only hope that everyone is safe," I murmured softly, my voice carried by the faint ocean breeze. My own words echoed in my mind like a solemn prayer, a hope shared between all of us who had been scattered.
We had been thrown into chaos, separated by forces far beyond our control. Nexus, Retro, Lilly, and I—we were all fighting our own battles, chasing answers in the dark. But even with the weight of uncertainty pressing down on me, I couldn't let doubt consume me.
As I walked toward the next island, the horizon stretching endlessly before me, I clung to that thought, repeating it like a mantra.
I can only hope that everyone is safe.
Even if we were apart, I had to believe we would find each other again. That thought alone kept me moving forward, step by step, into the unknown.