Orin stumbled through the dense woods, his breath ragged, legs still aching from the strain of the earlier battle. His boots thudded softly against the uneven ground, each step sending an ache through his sore body. His ribs still felt cracked. His spine ached from where he'd fallen earlier, but his arms, surprisingly, were the least of his worries. Whatever strange energy flowed through him from the Chaos power, it was healing him. Slowly. Steadily.
In the distance, a glimmer of light caught his eye. He paused, narrowing his eyes at the strange sight through the trees—a clearing. And not just any clearing, but a place that felt… normal. The sort of normal that felt out of place in this world.
The air was different here—cleaner, fresher. The red-tinted sky above had softened into a gentler shade of blue, speckled with clouds. The grass beneath his boots was green and soft, not the scorched, gray wasteland of the forest. The river that ran through the center of the field was crystal-clear, winding its way over smooth stones. The sound of birds chirping floated through the air—genuine, untouched. For a moment, Orin wondered if he was dreaming.
He dropped to his knees beside the river, dipping his hands into the cool water. The rush of it against his fingers was grounding, like he was touching something real. But even as he drank deeply, a strange, uneasy feeling lingered in the pit of his stomach. It felt too clean, too peaceful. Like it was meant to distract him from something darker.
But Orin didn't have the energy to investigate. He was drawn to the small stone structure on the edge of the field—a half-collapsed cottage, moss growing over the old wood and stone. Whatever it was, it had clearly been abandoned for some time. He walked toward it, his mind still struggling to make sense of his situation.
Inside the cottage, the air smelled of dust and decay. Broken furniture lay scattered across the floor, and the remnants of old furniture were overturned. But there were signs of a past life here—half-burned books, a few small tools scattered across the floor, and something that caught his eye: a worn, tattered journal.
Orin sat on the floor, flipping through the pages. The writing was erratic, like someone in a panic, their hand trembling as they scribbled down frantic thoughts. The pages spoke of the land's slow decay—mentions of "fragments" and "the System breaking."
He sighed, tossing the journal aside. The weight of the words felt heavy in the air, but he was too exhausted to process it all right now. Instead, he looked out the window, the setting sun casting a golden light over the field.
He closed his eyes, letting the quiet of the place wash over him. His body was healing—gradually. His muscles, which had felt like jelly just hours ago, were beginning to regain some strength. The cuts on his skin were still there, but the throbbing pain had lessened. He could feel the Chaos power inside him, subtly, like a hum under his ribs. It wasn't fully in control—not yet—but it was there, growing, shifting, pulsing in sync with his own heart.
"Status Check"
The voice echoed in his mind—sharp and cold, like the system's way of reminding him it was still there. Orin blinked, surprised to hear it so clearly now. The passive abilities from the Chaos energy had always been there, but this felt like it was speaking directly to him, almost like an interface opening up in his mind.
"Status? What does that mean?" Orin murmured to himself.
"Energy detected. Current capacity: 62%."
"Abilities unlocked: Chaos Sync (Passive), Chaos Control (Activated)."
"No combat-related data recorded. Preparing next sequence."
A holographic interface flickered to life before his eyes—a small, glowing bar floating above his hands. It showed his energy level—barely half-full—and beneath it was a collection of strange symbols he didn't understand. His heart skipped.
"So I can see this now?" he whispered, eyes narrowing at the glowing display. His energy was less than half of what it could be—only 62%. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut.
He was weaker than he thought.
His eyes scanned the field, then the dark horizon beyond the trees. The same deep unease lingered, like an unseen storm brewing in the distance. The world around him might look peaceful, but something told him it wouldn't stay that way for long.
Orin closed his eyes, trying to calm the racing thoughts in his head. The vision of Shadow's grief—Maria dying in his arms—flashed in his mind again. The anger. The chaos. He could feel it deep inside him, burning like a fire that needed to be fed.
Suddenly, the image flickered—like a glitch—and for a brief moment, the golden moon above him turned red. His pulse quickened as static buzzed in his ears.
"Warning: Energy fluctuation detected. Incoming disturbance."
Orin stood, heart hammering. He wasn't alone. He could feel it—something was wrong. The world felt off-balance, and the ground beneath his feet hummed with an energy he couldn't place. The rift was coming. He could feel it, like a tear in the fabric of this world.
A rift… a collapse. The ground trembled under his boots.
The voice in his head spoke again.
"Rift detected: Temporal instability. Collapse imminent."
Orin didn't need to be told twice. He moved toward the edge of the field, eyes scanning the horizon, searching for the source of the disturbance. The quiet had been replaced by an unnatural stillness, and a strange light flickered on the edge of the sky.
He felt it in his bones—the collapse. This world was unraveling. The seams were coming loose.
And then, it hit him. The rift. He saw it—flashes of fractured reality bleeding into the sky, cracks opening between worlds. Another universe, another reality, trying to invade, to take over this space. The air turned heavy, static crackling in the atmosphere like something was about to break.
Orin staggered back, his head spinning. The energy inside him surged, and a flash of light exploded from the rift—a surge of power that he could almost feel. It burned in his chest, pulling at him.
The world was collapsing.
He took a deep breath, the Chaos power humming louder, its presence in his body growing more pronounced. The system's voice echoed in his head again, but this time it wasn't just a warning. It was a call.
"Chaos Spear unlocked. Next phase of synchronization complete. Prepare for combat."
Before he could fully process the information, the air around him flickered, and the rift seemed to draw nearer. It was coming—and it was taking everything with it.