The fire crackled softly beside Seven as he finished eating. The meat was tough but warm, and it eased the hunger in his stomach. He sat with his legs crossed, staring at the small pond nearby. The surface was still, reflecting the stars above like scattered silver.
He was deep in thought.
"Where do I go next?" he wondered. "I've left the squad, but the path ahead is still unclear. I need answers. Power. A reason."
The silence of the night helped him think. The fire warmed his skin, and for once, everything felt calm.
Then, he noticed something.
The surface of the pond shimmered—just for a second. Not from the wind. It looked like light bending in a strange way.
Seven narrowed his eyes and leaned forward.
The water shimmered again.
And this time, he saw it clearly—something faint lying beneath the surface. A shape. Large and curved, hidden just deep enough to avoid attention. He frowned and stood slowly, stepping closer.
The shape wasn't a fish or a rock. It looked smooth, too smooth to be natural. Almost like metal. Some faint lines glowed across its surface, like old symbols.
'What is that?' he thought.
His body tensed. He didn't draw his blade yet, but his fingers hovered near it. He scanned the trees. Nothing moved. The forest was quiet—too quiet.
He crouched by the pond, staring harder at the shape below. The moonlight hit the water just right now, revealing more detail. The curved object looked old. Ancient. Like it had been here for a long time.
"How did I miss this before?"
To test it, he picked up a small bone and tossed it into the pond. It sank quickly, without a ripple. No reaction.
Still, Seven felt uneasy. His sigil pulsed faintly under his skin. It only did that when something powerful—or strange—was nearby.
He stood again and took a step back.
"It feels like it's watching me," he thought. "But it's not even moving."
He looked again.
The shape had shifted. Just a little. It was now angled differently, like it had turned while he wasn't looking.
His heart beat faster.
"It's alive?"
He didn't run. Not yet. He started whispering a light chant to remove small illusions which he learned from Jin.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then the symbols on the shape lit up.
Faint runes glowed around it, forming a circle in the water. Not because of his ritual—but as if it had recognized him.
Pain flashed through his back. His sigil throbbed hard. Seven winced and clenched his jaw.
Behind him, the fire suddenly flared—bright, loud—and then dimmed back to normal.
He turned to the pond again. The glow was fading. The shape was still. Quiet.
But now he knew.
It wasn't a fish.
It wasn't a rock.
It was something old.
Something that had noticed him.
"That's not a creature," he thought. "That's something else. A relic? A gate? A warning?"
His thoughts spun.
He had stumbled onto something—maybe by accident, maybe not. But now that it had seen him, he couldn't ignore it.
Not anymore.
---
Seven stood still at the edge of the pond, the cold air brushing against his skin. The fire behind him had burned down into quiet embers, but the warmth still lingered on his back. His eyes remained locked on the dark water in front of him. That shape—whatever it was—had vanished again.
He crouched down, picked up another small stone from the dirt, and held it between his fingers. It felt cool and slightly wet. He narrowed his eyes, then tossed the stone toward the center of the pond.
It hit the surface with a soft plop and sank.
This time, nothing happened.
No shimmer. No glow. No strange movement beneath the surface.
Only silence.
Seven stared for a long moment.
'So it's not reacting now...' he thought. 'But that thing is still down there. I know it.'
The glow from earlier had been real. The shifting shape, the pulse of his sigil—he hadn't imagined any of it. His instincts told him the thing in the water hadn't left. It was just... waiting.
He looked down at his hands. They were steady.
'Should I check it out?'
He had made his decision.
With a slow breath, he stood and slipped off his cloak, folding it and placing it by the fire. He removed his boots next, then the outer layer of his clothes, careful to keep his blade nearby just in case.
The water was cold when he stepped in. It bit at his legs, sending a jolt through his nerves, but he didn't stop. Step by step, he moved deeper, until the pond reached his waist.
He looked up one last time at the dark forest around him, the stars in the sky, and the flickering light of the fire. Then, without hesitation, he dived in.
---
The cold hit him like a wall.
Water rushed over his skin, thick and heavy. At first, it felt like any normal pond—dark, deep, and silent. But as he swam downward, it began to change.
It wasn't just water anymore.
The pressure grew stronger. His limbs felt like they were being held back, as though some unseen force resisted every movement. The darkness thickened. What looked like shallow, clear water from above now felt endless, almost unnatural.
"This isn't normal," Seven thought, kicking harder to push himself forward. "Something's affecting the space here."
He kept his focus on the direction where the light had appeared before. There was no glow now, but he trusted his memory—and his gut.
Time felt strange beneath the surface. Seconds stretched. Each stroke of his arms felt longer than the last. His lungs burned slightly, but he pressed on.
Then, finally, something came into view.
A smooth surface in the dark. Curved. Massive. Larger than he imagined.
Seven swam closer, heart pounding in his chest.
As he neared it, the weight on his body increased. The water thickened around him, like moving through syrup. It made his arms ache and his chest tighten.
But he kept going.
And then—he touched it.
---
His fingers brushed the surface, and a jolt ran through his body. Not pain. Not heat. Just… awareness.
The structure beneath the water wasn't just a wall or stone. It was alive. Not in the way a creature is alive, but in the way a storm or a ritual circle hums with hidden power. The moment his skin made contact, a soft pulse ran through the gate. Symbols appeared—dim at first, then slowly glowing with a pale blue light.
Seven stared.
It was a gate.
A real one.
Oval-shaped, carved from a strange dark metal, its edges lined with rune-like markings. Each symbol shimmered in rhythm, as if breathing. There was no handle. No visible lock. Just the sense that something was sealed—and waiting.
Seven hovered before it, legs kicking gently to stay in place.
"What is this doing here?" he wondered. "How long has it been under this pond? What does it open to?"
He reached out again, this time placing both palms on the surface.
The sigil on his back responded. He felt it—sharp, hot, almost like a spark under his skin.
And the gate responded too.
More lights flared to life. A circle of symbols formed around his hands. The water around him vibrated. Not shaking—resonating, like sound without noise.
He pulled back quickly, but the lights stayed. The gate had recognized him. Or at least, it had acknowledged something inside him.
Seven stared at it, chest rising and falling slowly as he floated.
The gate opens mysteriously, but nothing inside is revealed yet.
---
Seven moved his fingers against the gate again, cold and firm beneath the surface of the pond. He had expected stillness—maybe silence, maybe rejection. But then something moved.
A low pulse trembled through the metal.
Symbols began to form beneath his palms, sliding into view like shadows lit from within. They circled his hands, then spread wider. Bright and pale, glowing softly in the dark water, they floated—not etched, not carved—but alive.
They moved like thoughts.
The ring of symbols shifted, twisted, and suddenly broke apart. Thin lines of glowing white coiled outward and began to snake along his arms. Dozens of them. Like silent threads hunting for something unseen.
Seven's eyes widened. He tried to pull back.
But his body didn't move.
'What is this?'he thought, heart beating faster.
The lines wrapped around his forearms, over his elbows, then across his shoulders and chest. They moved with purpose—intention. As if they already knew where to go.
All of them slid downward, toward the mark on his back.
Toward his sigil.
And the moment the first tendril touched it—
Pain.
Not pain like a blade. Not even like fire.
It was deeper.
A sharp, consuming force exploded inside his spine. His back arched. His vision went white. Every nerve lit up as if someone had driven lightning through his soul.
His mouth opened but no sound came. Just bubbles.
He thrashed. Kicked. Water churned around him, but nothing could break the grip of what was happening.
The symbols vanished beneath his skin—sinking into his flesh—and the pain grew.
'Stop—!'
The scream never left his throat.
He couldn't move anymore. Couldn't think. Couldn't hold on to who he was.
His body twisted inward like it was being unmade.
Each second felt like an eternity caught between breaths.
Time fractured.
His mind snapped blank.
---
Then, like a sudden drop from a great height, the pain ended.
Everything went still.
Seven floated, breathless and stunned. The symbols were gone. The glow had faded. Only the silent water and his trembling body remained.
His sigil no longer burned.
It hummed.
There was something new within him. Something settled. Complete.
Then—
A soft chime rang through his head.
Not out loud. Not through the water.
It was inside him. A message whispered into the space behind his eyes.
[You have unearthed the Forgotten.]
His eyes opened wider.
[Achievement registered.]
[Achievements Ranking updated: Ash → Iron]
Three simple lines. Cold. Clear.
But they struck him like thunder.
He blinked, half-conscious, barely understanding. These weren't universal notifications. No one else would hear this. No voice echoed through the sky. No crowd would see his name.
But he knew.
His rank had changed.
Not in Power.
Not in Wealth.
But in Achievement.
Something ancient had recognized him.
The Infinite Planes themselves had taken notice.
---
The gate in front of him, now dim and quiet, began to pulse again.
Seven stared at it, his lungs aching but his body too stunned to move.
A low vibration touched the water. It wasn't sound—but sensation.
The symbols on the gate lit up again. Not wildly, not in patterns—but all at once.
A faint blue glow rippled along its outer edge.
Seven pulled his arms back slowly, sensing something change.
Then the gate shifted.
Not opened with hinges. Not pushed by force.
It unfolded.
Like light bending into shape, the surface stretched. Folded inward and downward in layers that defied logic, revealing a black hollow behind it.
A space that should not exist beneath water.
There was no pressure difference. No current. Just stillness.
Seven's heart thumped hard in his chest.
He leaned closer.
The water near the threshold shimmered. His reflection was swallowed in the dark surface beyond.
No sound. No movement.
Just invitation.
The gate waited.