The early morning fog hugged the jagged cliffs of Halon's Edge like a secret never meant to be spoken. Beneath a lone stone archway sat Aran, now aware of the ticking countdown to the world's destruction. His fingers trembled slightly as they gripped the hilt of Extinction—his greatsword pulsing with dark crimson and smoky shadows, almost like it was alive and aware of his every thought.
The echoes of his dream still haunted him.
A voice had whispered, "Seven days. Save her, or save the world. But never both."
The image of Lira's tear-stained face, reaching out to him as the world crumbled, burned into his memory. The same girl who had pulled him from the alley just yesterday. A stranger? Or something more?
"Hey, you're up early," Lira's voice broke through the quiet, soft yet laced with hidden concern. She approached with two cups of something warm. "You didn't sleep much, did you?"
Aran didn't answer right away. He was too focused on the odd sensation in his chest. A pressure—like time itself was pushing down on him.
"I dreamt of the end again," he finally said. "But this time… I saw you. You were the one who broke apart when the sky shattered."
Lira froze for just a moment before smiling again. "That's oddly poetic… and terrifying. You've only just arrived in this world, and already it's burdened you."
"I think I'm not from here at all."
Lira didn't respond. Instead, she set the cups down and turned toward the rising sun.
"You're not the first to fall from the sky, Aran," she said. "But you might be the last."
[Flashback: The Lore of Halon]
In a chamber deep within the Temple of Echoes, the High Seer chanted before an ancient mirror. Reflected in the glass was not her face—but Aran's.
"He is the One of the Split Path," she murmured to the gathered elders. "He bears the Extinction Blade. The seal has cracked. The countdown begins anew."
Another voice, gruff and seasoned, growled from the shadows. "If he fails to shatter the link between the world and the girl, both will be lost."
The Seer turned toward the stone tablet beside her. Symbols etched in blood and gold pulsed faintly.
"Prepare the Others," she ordered. "The Trials begin on Day Three."
Day 2 — The First Trial
A blaring shriek tore through the skies above Halon. Aran and Lira turned toward the sound, and a shadow—massive and winged—descended upon the city outskirts.
"The Wyrm of Cinderglass," Lira whispered. "It's a Trial Beast. The Seers have released it early."
Aran's grip on Extinction tightened.
"It's coming for me."
Lira shook her head. "No. It's coming for the link—you and me both."
Before Aran could ask more, the ground beneath them exploded. The Wyrm crashed into the cliffside, sending shards of crystal and stone flying. It was the size of a cathedral, covered in molten obsidian scales with a crimson underglow. Its eyes burned with fury and knowledge.
"You are the world's undoing," it hissed, "and its only hope."
Aran stepped forward, his blade glowing with a pulsating aura. Crimson tendrils of energy spiraled up his arm.
"I won't let either of us die," he said.
He leapt, Extinction humming with energy. The world slowed—time dilated. Every heartbeat echoed like thunder.
Slice.
The Wyrm's wing cracked. Not fully severed—but wounded. Aran landed hard, skidding along the gravel as the recoil of his strike surged through his legs.
Lira unleashed a burst of light magic, distracting the beast.
"We only have one shot," she shouted. "Use your aura—fully!"
Aran nodded. He reached within himself—and for a moment—he wasn't alone.
[Inner Realm — The Spirit Within]
A field of stars. A void. And in the center, a figure.
Tall, armored in shifting shadows and starlight. The spirit of Extinction.
"You are not ready to wield my final form," it said. "But I will lend you one technique."
"What cost?" Aran asked.
The spirit's eyes glowed. "A memory."
Aran hesitated.
"I accept."
The blade in his hand morphed, its edge warping into something ethereal and burning.
"Ash Requiem!" Aran roared.
He struck. A wave of crimson-black energy surged forward, engulfing the Wyrm in pure obliteration. When the dust settled, only ash and silence remained.
Aran collapsed, panting, his mind echoing with fading laughter.
"What did you lose?" Lira asked.
He blinked, confused.
"…I can't remember my sister's face."
Lira's eyes widened. "You gave up a piece of yourself… for this world?"
"For you," Aran said without thinking.
That Night
The stars above seemed clearer. The first trial had been passed. But six days remained.
Unbeknownst to them, in the ruins of a forgotten fortress, a man in silver watched a scrying mirror.
"So... the Reincarnator awakens," he muttered. "And the Seer plays her games. I wonder, Aran… if you'll still choose her when the truth breaks you."
He smiled.
"And when you remember what you were before."