The moment the dark liquid touched his lips…
As it scorched down Kraan's throat, he collapsed to the ground, writhing in agony. Pain surged from the depths of every vein — as if his bones were melting, as if his skin was rebelling against him.
— "This is not suffering, my child…"
Airaa knelt beside him and whispered into his ear.
— "This… is your rebirth."
In that moment, Kraan's consciousness shattered, and his entire past life dissolved. Voices, laughter, the warm memories of family — all vanished. In their place came:
Cold. Absolute darkness. Truth.
His eyes snapped open. His gaze had changed — no longer human, no longer tearful. Now, they burned with a savage and icy flame.
He stood.
He was no longer the same person.
Segment: "The Sacrament of Shadow"
(The beginning of Kraan's mastery over his powers)
The Temple of Darkness.
Charred stone columns, stained-glass windows cloaked in shadow, and a roofless hall wrapped in gloom. In its center, Kraan knelt. Before him, four pillars marked the cardinal directions, each crowned with a small cauldron spinning with black flame.
— "Stand."
Airaa Dohen's voice echoed through the hollow temple — not loud, but hauntingly cold, wrapped in steel.
Kraan rose slowly. His wounds had not yet healed, but his eyes had — they were cold, unwavering.
— "Do you now seek power, or do you still dream only of vengeance?"
— "My life is fed by vengeance. If I need power, it is only to end everything."
Airaa nodded and extended his hand over one of the cauldrons. From it came not smoke, but sound — screams, voices crying for help, the wailing of lost souls.
— "This is the essence of darkness. Through this sacrament, you will live on by your past pain and your soul's truth. But once you enter… there is no path back."
Kraan stepped forward in silence. His hand trembled. But he did not hesitate. He reached into the black fire.
Not warmth. A freezing judgment.
Not flame. But grief, rage, and mourning incarnate.
Darkness surged through his veins. All the pain, the nights spent weeping, the slaughter etched into his memory — it all exploded within his mind.
His soul screamed, his body bent, and his consciousness fractured into a thousand forms.
Yet in the end, he did not fall — he laughed.
— "Yes… this feeling. Hatred is my light. This shadow… is my truth."
Airaa stood, his voice low but certain:
— "You are now the Successor of Darkness. You are our Thirteenth. You are… Kraan, the Bringer of Death."
Хэрэв чи үргэлжлүүлэхийг хүсвэл, дараагийн хэсгийнхаа санааг хэлээд хамтдаа үргэлжлүүлж болно. Би чамтай энэ түүхийг бүрэн гүйцэд бүтээхэд тусалсаар байх болно.