Weightless.
Jacob and Connor drifted—somewhere between thought and nothingness. There was no ground, no sky. Just dark. A thick, unmoving dark that pressed in from every side. Their limbs screamed with pain, a low hum of soreness buzzing beneath skin that no longer felt real. Their body—shared, broken, exhausted—floated as if it no longer belonged to them.
In that silence, thoughts were fragments. System alerts blinked like dying fireflies, too distant to make sense of. Numbers, letters, pieces of meaning… none of it landed. None of it stuck.
But something did.
A presence.
It didn't announce itself. It didn't move. It simply was—a weight in the void, silent and still like a storm building beneath frozen water.
Then, it reached out—not with hands or words, but something deeper. A sensation that bypassed the body and brushed directly against their souls. No warmth. No malice. Just an undeniable pressure, like being watched by something older than time.
Hollow Craft Assimilation: 20%…
The void stirred.
Pain lanced through them. Their body convulsed, fingers twitching, breath catching. Nerves lit up like live wires—fire and cold all at once.
Breathe.
They gasped, lungs burning, as the world snapped violently back into place.
Gone was the battlefield.
Above them stretched a sky like torn velvet—purple bruised by streaks of molten gold. Shattered pieces of something ancient hung in the air, too beautiful and broken to be real.
Below them, black glass. Ground like polished obsidian, reflecting that cracked sky.
They tried to move, but the effort dragged like walking through tar. Their bodies refused to cooperate, heavy with exhaustion and something else—something that tethered them down.
Then—
Thud.
Footsteps. Heavy. Rhythmic. Getting closer.
They turned, slowly, painfully. Through the haze of their vision, something emerged. A figure, cloaked in mist that clung like it was alive. Every step it took scattered the fog around it in strange, unnatural swirls.
And then—
It stepped into view.
Not a person. Not even a creature.
A legend.
The Azure Strifelion.
Towering. Crystalline. Otherworldly. Light bent and fractured through its translucent body like it was made of living glass. Wings arched behind it—massive, jagged things that caught the light and shattered it across the ground like broken rainbows. Its eyes glowed cold and bright, peering into them with impossible clarity.
It wasn't just a Strifelion. It was the Revenant Azure Strifelion.
A spirit of the past. A ghost of power and sorrow.
Skill Activated: Doll Summoning — Azure Strife (Lv. 15)
Description: Once a proud protector of the natural world, the Strifelion was corrupted by a soul skill and fell in battle. Upon its death, the seed bloomed, preventing rest. It was revived by twin soulbearers, bound to serve anew.
Jacob and Connor didn't react with fear.
They knew it.
Not just what it was—but that it was theirs. It resonated with them—level for level, a mirror of their own growth. Bound not by chains, but by something deeper. Something shared.
Nearby, Rowan tensed. His hands gripped his weapon, his stance low and ready. He didn't understand. His instincts screamed to strike first.
But before he could, the twins raised their hands—slow, steady, in unison.
Don't.
"It's with us," Jacob said quietly. "It's on our side."
Rowan didn't lower his weapon immediately. His gaze flicked between the ghostly beast and the twins. Then, slowly, his shoulders relaxed.
Still reeling from the earlier fight, they climbed onto the Strifelion's back. Its surface felt cool and smooth, humming with quiet energy. It didn't flinch or shift as they settled into place—just waited.
Rowan hesitated before mounting behind them. "You sure about this?" he muttered.
Connor let out a tired laugh. "Didn't you used to say you wanted to ride one of these someday?"
Rowan gave a half-smile, then winced as pain flared through his side. "Honestly? Right now, I'd ride a wild boar if it meant I didn't have to walk."
As they rose into the air, a new notification blinked across their vision:
Quest Update — Archon of Man (Part II)
Trust extended. You've been granted full access to Lyle's intentions. You are now officially part of his inner circle. His goals are no longer hidden from you.
Jacob caught the flicker in Connor's eyes. They both turned to Rowan.
No words passed between them. Just a glance. A nod.
They'd all gotten it.
Rowan stared at the message, then at them. His jaw clenched as the weight of it sank in. He remembered when another name filled the quest line. Not Lyle's.
His father's—Brian.
He didn't speak. None of them did.
But the silence said everything.
They were in now. All of them.
And still, one quiet question echoed between their thoughts:
Why now? Why had Lyle chosen this exact moment to let them in?
Elsewhere, Geneva Graye watched Lyle with narrowed eyes. Her stance coiled, ready to strike.
But before she could move, someone behind her broke the silence.
"He didn't even attack," the man said, stepping forward. "Didn't you say we only kill threats? This guy hasn't done a thing."
A few others nodded. Quiet murmurs. Agreement.
Geneva's jaw tensed, but she didn't snap. Not yet.
Lyle's eyes lit up. She didn't tell them…
She'd only whispered to the red-haired one. That meant the others didn't know. She kept the quest details to herself.
They're not fully informed.
That was all Lyle needed.
He kept his tone mild, eyes wide with feigned innocence. "So… not a band of deranged killers, then? That's good to know. Really thought you were going to gut me."
The man blinked. "Oh, really?"
Geneva's glare could've pierced armor.
She scoffed. "And we're just supposed to believe that?"
"We'll keep him in chains," she added sharply. "Just to be safe."
Lyle's mind raced. She's baiting them. Wants to kill me, but she's afraid of how it'll look. So she's trying to make it 'justified.'
He let out a shaky laugh, playing the part. "Chains? Little dramatic, don't you think?"
But even as he smiled, he was already preparing the next move.
He straightened, voice calm. "I get the caution. Really, I do. If I were in your shoes, I'd be suspicious too. But I'm not here to cause problems. I'll cooperate. Whatever you need."
He let the silence sit before continuing.
"I'll even turn myself in if it makes things easier—though, uh, I am already cuffed." He lifted his hands with a wry grin. "All I ask is a chance to prove I'm not your enemy."
Markus and a few others blinked, clearly unsure.
But they didn't stop him.
They didn't step in.
Not yet.
And Lyle—chained and smiling—knew that was all the space he needed.