'Why am I here?'
Jalen stood motionless beneath the raging storm, his breath coming in slow, measured exhales.
The Anima Nexus.
Again.
The ground beneath him was slick with rain, pooling in shallow puddles that reflected the dim, golden glow of his Soul Tree in the distance. Thunder rumbled overhead, shaking the very foundation of this realm, and with every jagged flash of lightning, the world around him seemed to pulse—as if it were alive.
He looked down.
The dagger.
It rested by his feet, its curved edge gleaming even under the darkened sky.
Jalen frowned, hesitating before kneeling to pick it up. The metal felt warm to the touch, but it wasn't just heat—it was familiarity. A presence.
A whisper.
Power.
Jalen clenched his teeth, gripping the hilt tighter. He could still feel it—the way the dagger had amplified his emotions, had twisted his anger, his grief, his thirst for blood into something more. Something dangerous.
Something he hadn't fully controlled.
The dagger had wanted him to lose himself.
Jalen exhaled sharply, forcing down the unease that crawled up his spine. "Not today." He tightened his grip on the weapon before standing up, his gaze drifting toward the Soul Tree in the distance.
The old man was there.
Of course, he was.
Seated beneath the glowing branches, his cane resting against his leg, he looked just as infuriatingly calm as ever—completely unbothered by the storm raging around him.
Jalen's jaw tightened.
"You again."
The old man smirked, not even looking up. "You say that like you didn't expect me."
Jalen started walking, each step sending splashes of water outward as he made his way toward the tree.
The old man finally met his gaze, something unreadable flickering in his ancient eyes. "So, have you come to listen this time?"
Jalen scoffed, twirling the dagger idly in his fingers. "Not likely."
The old man sighed, shaking his head. "Such a shame. You've already become so much more, yet you insist on clinging to mortal ideas."
Jalen stopped a few feet away, staring him down. "And you insist on wasting my time."
A crack of lightning split the sky in response, illuminating the old man's face for just a second. His smirk widened, but there was something else there now.
Something sharper.
"Is that what you think this is?" The old man's voice lowered slightly, though it carried over the howling wind as if the storm itself didn't dare to drown him out. "A waste?"
Jalen folded his arms. "Every time I see you, it's the same cryptic bullshit. Either tell me why I'm here, or let me wake up."
The old man chuckled. "Straight to the point. I can respect that." He leaned forward, planting his cane into the wet ground before rising to his feet. The storm raged behind him, lightning dancing across the sky, his silhouette casting long shadows against the drenched earth.
"Jalen. I offer you a seat among the divine."
Silence.
For the first time in a long time, Jalen felt his pulse hitch.
He narrowed his eyes. "What?"
The old man stepped closer, his presence pressing into Jalen's space like a tide rising too fast. "Join me. Join the others. Embrace what you are becoming."
Jalen scoffed, rolling his shoulders. "You're out of your damn mind."
The old man arched a brow. "Am I?"
The storm flashed again, but this time—Jalen saw something else.
In the reflection of the puddles, the flickering glow of his own body. The faint golden and violet hue that wasn't just his glyphs anymore—it was him.
Jalen's fingers twitched.
The old man noticed.
His smirk widened. "Ah. You've realized it, haven't you?"
Jalen remained silent, his jaw tight.
The old man let out a low chuckle. "You are not just changing, Jalen. You are transcending."
Jalen forced a smile. "I don't give a damn about your 'divinity.' I'm not joining you."
The old man hummed, tilting his head slightly. "Interesting choice of words."
"I already have a plan. We're getting home. And if that means killing every god in our way—"
The old man laughed.
Not a soft chuckle, not an amused smirk—but a full, resonating laugh that sent chills down Jalen's spine.
Jalen bristled. "What's so funny?"
The old man wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. "Oh, Jalen. Tell me—if your goal is to kill all the gods…"
He took a step forward.
"…Does that include you?"
Jalen froze.
Thunder roared above them, shaking the sky, the Soul Tree, the very fabric of the Nexus itself.
His own heartbeat felt deafening.
The old man's voice dipped into something lower. Darker.
"You have already started your ascension."
Jalen's grip tightened. "Shut up."
The old man smirked. "You are already beyond them."
Jalen's aura flared unintentionally, the very air around him cracking under the weight of his presence.
The old man did not flinch.
"So tell me, boy."
He stepped even closer, lowering his voice to a whisper.
"When the time comes… will you kill yourself too?"
The question hit harder than any physical strike Jalen had ever taken.
His mind blanked. His chest felt tight.
The storm raged around them, the wind howling like it was alive, the rain slamming into the earth with vicious fury.
For the first time in a long time—Jalen didn't have a response.
The old man studied him, as if satisfied by his silence. Then, with a knowing smirk, he took a step back.
"You have much to think about."
Jalen gritted his teeth, his hands trembling. He wanted to say something—anything. But before he could force the words out, the storm swallowed the world whole.
Jalen gasped, his body jerking upright.
His chest ached, his breath came in ragged gulps, his hands still trembling as the echoes of the storm lingered in his mind.
He was back.
Back in Everlock.
Back in his body.
He exhaled sharply, glancing at his hands. The golden hue of his skin had faded, but he could still feel it. The old man's words were still there.
He swung his legs over the bed, running a hand through his hair.
'That bastard.'
He had planted doubt in him.
The door creaked open.
"Nathan."
"You're up," he said, voice unreadable. "Good. Get dressed."
Jalen frowned. "What for?"
Nathan smirked. "Welcome to Everlock's hell week."
Jalen exhaled, rolling his shoulders. Right. Training.
A second voice joined in, sharper.
"If you're going to survive out there, you need more than power."
Jalen turned. Kuromi stood there.
"Combat strategy. Battlefield coordination," she listed. "If you can't fight as a unit, you'll die as individuals."
"You, Nathan, Lucio, and his majesty will meet at noon to begin."
She looked at Rhea. "I'll handle her personally."
Rhea blinked. "Wait, seriously?"
Kuromi's eyes narrowed. "I don't waste time."
Jalen smirked, shaking off the weight in his chest. "Fine. Let's get to work."