The hospital room was a sterile enclave, its pristine white walls and the rhythmic hum of medical machines a stark contrast to the shattered battlefield where Zane had carved his name into the chaos of the Tutorial's end. The air was thick with the sharp bite of antiseptic, a clinical serenity that did little to quell the storm raging in Zane's mind. He lay on the bed, his white hair fanned out like a halo against the crisp pillow, his face pale yet resolute, his unseeing eyes closed, sealing him in a world of darkness. Ariel had stepped out, her pale blue hospital gown swishing as she moved to finalize his discharge, her golden hair tied back, her blue eyes burning with a fierce determination to protect her brother. Alone now, Zane's thoughts churned like a restless river, navigating the void that had claimed his sight.
'Eleven kills? Let's break it down properly,' he thought, his mind as sharp as Ruinblaze despite his blindness. 'On Zoic, I took out one trainee—a cocky bastard who underestimated me. That's one. When I got back to Earth, I faced that bear Gemini, its claws like steel, but I cut it down. That's two. Then there were those five Awakeners, cornered by a pack of seven wolf Geminis. I slaughtered the lot, saving those pathetic weaklings. That's nine. Later, I faced the Elite Geminis—Mistibeast with its choking fog, Titnice with its arrogant dance, and the Whisperkin, that slippery bastard. Three more, making twelve. But the Whisperkin was the Dark Disciple, so it doesn't count. Down to eleven. Nine more to hit twenty for my Necrotist abilities, whatever that is.' His calculations were meticulous, a discipline forged in Zoic's brutal training grounds, where a single misstep meant death. 'But what about the Tutorial rewards? And that so-called "gift" those seven shadowy figures promised in that cursed temple? I need to check everything, one step at a time.'
His voice, low and deliberate, cut through the room's stillness. "Open Dark Heir status." Nothing. The machines kept their steady hum, indifferent to his command. "Open candidate status," he tried again, his tone sharper, but the air remained empty, the System silent. "Dark Disciple's gift," he muttered, frustration creeping in. Still nothing, the room as quiet as a grave.
Zane's lips twitched, a wry smirk forming as he leaned back against the pillow. 'A secret code? Some hidden phrase?' His mind raced, piecing together the fragments like a puzzle carved in blood. 'There was the Dark Disciple, that smug bastard with his crimson eyes, marking my forehead. The System called me a candidate for the Dark Throne. Those seven shadows in that temple, their voices like knives in my skull. My sight—gone, replaced by this endless darkness. Every piece of this mess is tied to one word: dark. Let's try it again, one last time.'
"Open Dark Status," he said, his voice a low growl, a challenge to the void that had stolen his eyes.
A dark holographic screen flared to life in his mind, its crimson text glowing like fresh-spilled blood against a black void, visible despite his blindness, as if etched into his very soul.
[Dark Status]
Name: Void
Title: Twentieth Heir to the Dark Throne
All information is locked due to an insufficient kill count. The path to the Dark Throne is a brutal road of blood, death, and betrayal. To unlock further details, you must kill at least fifty Awakened entities.
Entities killed: 11/50
You have received two gifts from one of the Seven Masters. Would you like to accept them?
[Yes] [No]
Zane's smirk faded, his jaw clenching as he processed the words. 'Fifty kills? Not twenty, but fifty now? This isn't a path—it's a slaughterhouse.' His thoughts darkened, bitter and sharp. 'The Dark Throne, those shadows, the Disciple—they're playing a game, and I'm their pawn. But how much worse can this get? Let's see what these "gifts" are, what kind of twisted trap they've set.' "Yes," he said aloud, his voice a low rumble, selecting the option in his mind with a mental nudge.
[Gifts Obtained]
1. Echo Sight: You can sense the outlines of living beings within a 2-meter radius by detecting their sound vibrations or the energy aura they emit. By clapping your hands and sending a sound wave infused with your aura energy, you can perceive the outlines of both living and non-living objects within a 10-meter radius. The range of this ability will expand as your strength grows.
2. Nether Heart: All information about this gift remains locked until your Dark Status is fully unlocked.
Zane's face twisted, his unseeing eyes narrowing in his mind's void, disappointment curling his lips. "I have to 'clap' to see now? Like some damn performer? How hilarious, pathetically so." 'This is a joke. Echo Sight's better than nothing, but it's a crutch, not a fix. And Nether Heart? Locked, of course, just like everything else.' His hands gripped the bedsheets, frustration bubbling like a storm ready to break. 'Forget protecting Ariel, I'll die in the Tower if I can't master this. Blind, with half-baked abilities and a kill count that's a death sentence.'
A faint creak of the door snapped him from his thoughts, his head tilting sharply toward the sound. "Who's there?" he barked, sitting up slowly, his voice edged with irritation as he strained to catch any hint of movement. 'Damn this blindness. Now I'm stuck yelling to figure out who's sneaking around like a coward.' No response came, and his patience snapped, his tone turning lethal. "You've got three seconds to speak, or I'll tear this hospital room apart and take you with it. One. Two—"
"It's me, Zane," a familiar voice cut in, soft but steady, carrying a quiet strength that pierced the room's tension.
Zane's head tilted toward the voice, his unseeing eyes fixed on nothing, his memory pinning the speaker. "Celine," he said, his voice dry, tinged with his old sharpness. "What do you want? If you're here to collect some reward for helping Ariel, come back later. I'm blind, broke, and not in the mood." He leaned back, one hand behind his head, the pillow crinkling under his weight, his tone a mix of exhaustion and defiance.
Celine stepped closer, her forest-green sweater rustling softly, her red braid swaying, her hazel eyes studying his pale face with a mix of concern and caution. "I'm not here for rewards, Zane," she said, her voice calm but firm, each word deliberate.
Zane clapped his hands, the sharp sound echoing in the small room, and a faint pulse of aura energy rippled outward. In his mind, the outlines of the hospital room took shape—sparse furniture, the bed's metal frame, the monitors' edges—all sketched in ghostly lines by his new Echo Sight. He sensed a figure at the doorway, its silhouette soft but distinct, radiating a familiar energy. His lips twitched with faint amusement. "Then what are you here for?" he asked, his voice low, a steady current cutting through the room's stillness, his head tilted toward the doorway where her outline lingered.
Celine shifted, her forest-green sweater rustling, her red braid swaying slightly, her hazel eyes wide with hesitation. "I… I came to check up on you," she said, her voice soft, almost swallowed by the hum of the machines, her words tinged with a nervous sincerity that betrayed her usual shyness.
Zane's eyes remained closed, his smirk sharpening, a blade honed by years of reading people's weaknesses. 'Check up on me?' He knew Celine from their school days—quiet, always on the sidelines, never one to step into the fray when he was cornered, mocked, or worse. Her timidity was no secret, and he'd cataloged it like every other classmate's flaws, back when he let them walk over him to keep his own plans hidden. "That's strange," he said, his voice smooth but edged with suspicion, each word deliberate, like a stone dropped into a still pond. "You're not my girlfriend, and we're hardly close enough friends for you to be checking up on me. What's the real reason you're here, Celine? Don't make me ask again."
Celine's boots scuffed the tile, her silhouette tensing in his Echo Sight's faint outline. Her voice trembled, but she pushed forward, her words spilling out in a rush, as if she'd rehearsed them. "I came to apologize, Zane. I need to say this, please, just listen." Her hazel eyes glistened, though he couldn't see them, her hands twisting together nervously. "I'm sorry for what happened back at school. I… I stood by, watching, when they bullied you, when they pushed you around, laughed at you. I never said anything, never helped. I was too scared, too weak to stand up for you, and I've carried that guilt ever since. I know it doesn't change anything, but I'm sorry."
Zane's smirk faded, his jaw tightening, his hand still resting behind his head as he leaned against the pillow. "Don't worry, Celine," he said, his voice cool, feigning ignorance to keep her off balance. "It's not your fault I'm blind. No need to drag up old schoolyard drama." His tone was dismissive, but his thoughts were sharp, guarded.
Celine took a tentative step forward, her silhouette clearer in his Echo Sight, her energy aura flickering with earnestness. "Though I'm sorry about your sight," she said, her voice steadier now, though still soft, like a breeze trying to hold its ground. "I'm also sorry for back then, for standing on the sidelines when you needed someone, anyone, to step in. I was a coward, and I hate that I didn't do more. I know you're strong, stronger than any of us, blind or not, but I needed to say this. I owe you that much, especially after you protected Ariel, after you saved us all from those Geminis."
Zane's head tilted slightly, his unseeing eyes closed, his mind racing. 'She's laying it on thick, but she's not wrong. She stayed out of it back then, just like I would've if I were in her shoes.' His voice hardened, a low growl that rippled through the room.
"Celine, get out. You didn't do anything wrong back then, and you don't owe me anything now. I'd have done the same—kept my head down, stayed out of trouble that wasn't mine. I don't stick my nose where it doesn't belong, and neither should you. If you're here to waste my time with useless apologies, go home. You've been out long enough, and I'm not in the mood for this." His words were sharp, each one a deliberate cut.
Correction Notice: I corrected the kills from 8 to 11.