The moon hung heavy above the Blue Moon Sect as Ethan sat alone within a chamber deep beneath the Moon vault. The air was dense with the scent of old parchment and star-metal dust. Before him lay the Dragon Slayer Sword, resting on a stone altar that pulsed with faint celestial light.
Seraphina had left him here to meditate, but Ethan could feel it something deeper was calling.
He placed both palms on the cold hilt. Instantly, a surge of energy rushed through him. The chamber vanished.
He was no longer in the vault.
Ethan stood in a battlefield of memories. Crimson skies loomed above. Warriors clad in ancient armor fought shadowy monstrosities that bled black smoke. Towering figures, half-beast and half-nightmare, screeched as they were cleaved down by a glowing blade.
His blade.
He looked down. The sword in his hands was no longer dormant it radiated white-hot power, trailing ribbons of silver flame.
A roar tore through the dreamscape. One of the faceless entities surged toward him, its presence suffocating.
Ethan reacted on instinct, the sword moving as if guided by muscle memory he didn't know he possessed. He slashed upward, splitting the creature in two. But as its form dissolved, its whispers clung to him.
You carry his burden. You shall suffer his fate.
Then everything shattered.
He collapsed to his knees back in the vault, gasping. The sword vibrated on the altar, glowing softly.
Footsteps approached.
Seraphina appeared in the archway, robes rustling like waves in the wind.
You saw it, didn't you?
Ethan looked up, sweat trickling down his temple. The war and him. The last bearer.
That memory has waited centuries to awaken. The sword remembers. And now, so do you.
He clenched his fists.
What happened to him?
Seraphina's expression darkened,
He vanished after sealing away the Heart of the Abyss. A fragment of an ancient entity that nearly devoured the realms. He was never found. Some say he fell with the seal. Others claim he ascended.
Ethan stood, eyes locked on the sword. And now that power stirs again.
She nodded,
Which is why we must act. The Dead Lotus Cult seeks the remnants of that heart. If they succeed, the world you know will fall into shadow.
Ethan reached for the sword, now warm in his hand. The weight felt right. Familiar.
Then I won't let them succeed. Not again.
As he strapped the sword across his back, Seraphina handed him a crystal vial. Take this. It's a Memory Pill. When consumed in deep meditation, it may unlock fragments of your soul's connection to the sword's past. But be warned not all memories are meant to be reclaimed.
Ethan accepted it silently.
Above them, the moon dimmed as clouds rolled in unnatural, heavy, and tinged with something darker than night.
A storm was coming.