As Lucian continued his journey through the desolate world of Wimbledon, his encounters with terrifying creatures grew more frequent. Yet, even as he fought tooth and nail for survival, a nagging sense of something lurking in the shadows haunted him. Something was watching, waiting for the right moment to reveal itself.
One evening, as he made his way through a dark forest, he caught sight of a figure in the distance. The figure was draped in a hooded cloak, its features obscured by shadow. Lucian's hand instinctively moved to his dagger, but the figure didn't approach. Instead, it stood still, watching him with an eerie calm.
"Who are you?" Lucian called out, his voice steady but laced with caution.
The figure didn't respond immediately. It simply tilted its head, as if studying him. After a moment of tense silence, it spoke in a low, gravelly voice.
"You seek answers, don't you?"
Lucian's heart skipped a beat. "What do you know about this world?"
The figure stepped forward, its movements deliberate and graceful. As it drew closer, Lucian could sense an aura of power radiating from it—one that didn't belong to this forsaken world.
"I know more than you could ever imagine," the figure said. "And I know what you seek. Xeran is not the key to unlocking the truth of this world... but he holds a part of it."
Lucian narrowed his eyes. "Then tell me what you know. I'll do whatever it takes."
The figure's lips curled into a faint smile, though it was barely visible beneath the hood. "You are not ready to hear the full truth. But I can offer you a glimpse. Follow me."
Lucian hesitated for a moment, his instincts screaming at him to be cautious, but something in the figure's presence told him that this was no ordinary stranger. With no other option, he nodded.
"I'm listening."
The figure led him through the dark forest, weaving between the gnarled trees with ease. As they walked, it spoke again.
"This world is a prison, a cursed realm that was once known as Wimbledon. It was a land of light, where peace and prosperity thrived. But something happened—a force beyond comprehension descended upon this place, turning it into what you see now. The world was plunged into darkness, and the light that once flourished was consumed by a malevolent energy."
Lucian listened intently, his mind racing. "What kind of force?"
The figure stopped in its tracks and turned to face him. "A curse. A curse so powerful that it altered the very fabric of reality itself. It corrupted everything, turning the land and its creatures into twisted, shadowed versions of what they once were. Even the mana that flows through this world has been tainted, feeding the curse."
"Xeran... is he part of this curse?" Lucian asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
The figure nodded. "Xeran is tied to the curse, but not in the way you think. He is both a victim and a key—an anchor that binds the curse to this world. He holds the power to either break it or plunge this land into eternal darkness."
Lucian's mind was spinning, trying to make sense of the information. "How do I stop it? How do I save this world?"
The figure's expression darkened. "The answer lies within you. You must find the source of the curse—the one who caused it—and defeat them. But be warned, the path you walk is fraught with danger. There are others who seek to control the curse for their own gain."
Lucian's resolve hardened. He would find Xeran, and he would uncover the truth behind the curse. No matter what it took.