Sable's pulse raced, his heart hammering in his chest as he stood alone in the desolate city. The masked man's words echoed in his mind like a haunting refrain: "This world doesn't just play by the rules. It creates them."
The ground trembled beneath him again, the faint hum of something unnatural vibrating through the very air. This place — it was alive. But unlike anything he had ever encountered. Eidolon had been a game. The line between virtual and real had been thin, but now it was gone. This wasn't a simulation anymore. No. This was something far darker.
Sable flexed his fingers, his body still raw from the final battle with Rei. His muscles screamed in protest, but he fought through the pain, his instincts urging him forward. There was no time to stand still. No time to hesitate.
The figures in the distance — survivors from the shattered game — began moving. Their distorted forms flickered, like broken holograms struggling to maintain cohesion. Some were still, staring out across the broken city as if waiting for something. Others were walking, their footsteps echoing against the ruined buildings. But all of them shared one thing in common: their eyes were dead. Hollow. They had no purpose. No direction. They were like ghosts.
And somewhere, deep within that vast, fractured city, the true game had already begun.
The voice of the masked man crept back into Sable's mind, "The real game is about evolution, Sable. Will you rise, or will you become part of the decay?"
Sable clenched his jaw, his resolve hardening. He wasn't going to become another hollow shell wandering the ruins. He wouldn't let himself fade away. He needed answers. He needed to know what this place was, who the masked man was, and what this twisted reality wanted from him.
As he began to move through the city, Sable couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. Eyes seemed to follow his every step, but when he looked around, there was no one in sight. The city had a sinister, watchful presence — like it was alive, waiting for him to make the first move.
The path ahead was lined with towering, jagged skyscrapers, their glass windows shattered and the metal skeletons rusted and crumbling. They loomed like forgotten giants. As he walked, he could see the remains of human structures scattered across the ground — discarded belongings, shattered screens, and broken weapons. There were signs of a battle — but it had all happened long ago. This place wasn't just a game... Sable realized. It was the aftermath of something far worse. Something far darker.
A sudden, sharp noise broke his thoughts — a crackle, followed by an ominous rumble. Sable spun around, hand instinctively reaching for his blades. But there was nothing. No weapon. No familiar tool for survival. Just his hands, now empty and weak.
The sound came again, louder this time. And then — from the shadows — something moved.
It wasn't human.
A grotesque, distorted figure crawled into view. Its body was twisted, misshapen, as though it were a patchwork of various creatures fused together. Limbs that shouldn't have belonged together were strung haphazardly, while its face — if you could call it a face — was a mess of jagged teeth and empty eyes. It was as if this creature had been torn from the fabric of the world itself, stitched back together in a twisted parody of life.
And it wasn't alone.
More figures — monstrous and unrecognizable — emerged from the darkness, their grotesque forms skittering toward him. The sound of their nails scraping against the crumbling streets filled the air, like a chorus of nightmares.
Sable's heart pounded, but he didn't panic. Not yet.
He was no longer the player in a game. He wasn't fighting virtual enemies. This was real. And real enemies meant real consequences.
But the problem was — he had no weapon.
His mind raced. Think, think...
Then, in a split second, something in his chest burned. It wasn't physical — it was something else. An intense, searing heat that crawled beneath his skin. The pulse, the one that had once only been a strange sensation during his final fight with Rei, was now raging within him.
His eyes widened as he understood. It wasn't just a feeling. It was power. The game's power, now fully manifest within him.
His hands trembled, but this time, it wasn't from weakness. The pulse was amplifying his senses. Sharpening his reflexes. Every cell in his body screamed with energy. It was as if the entire city had suddenly come alive within him — and now, he was its conduit.
Sable took a step forward. He could feel the pressure building, the power surging through his veins. And then — without thinking — he raised his hand.
A burst of raw energy shot from his palm, a jagged wave of force that struck one of the monstrous creatures dead on. The impact sent it flying backward, crashing into a building with a deafening roar. The energy felt like an extension of himself — an extension of the game's corrupted power, now fully in his control.
"Is this… me?" Sable muttered to himself. "Am I... one of them now?"
But there was no time for questions. The other creatures were closing in, their eyes glowing with a malevolent hunger. Sable's new power surged again, this time more focused. He moved without thinking, each action as natural as breathing. His body was becoming one with the chaos around him.
One by one, the monstrous creatures fell to his energy blasts, their grotesque bodies disintegrating in flashes of light. The once chaotic fear inside him faded as he realized — he had the upper hand now. This was his world. And he was going to reshape it.
When the last creature fell, Sable stood still, panting, as the streets around him fell silent. The air was heavy with the remnants of his attack. The ground was scorched, the twisted bodies of his enemies now nothing more than burnt husks.
Sable looked down at his hands, still trembling with the residual power coursing through him. He was different now. Stronger. But he wasn't sure if that was a blessing or a curse.
A voice broke the silence.
"Well done."
Sable turned sharply, his eyes narrowing. The figure that stood before him wasn't a monster. It wasn't even a person.
It was a woman. Or what looked like one. She wore a tattered cloak, her face hidden beneath a hood. Her eyes, however, glowed with an unnatural light, and Sable could feel her gaze piercing through him, as if she were looking directly into his soul.
"You're one of the survivors," Sable said, his voice steady despite the pounding in his chest. "What is this place?"
The woman smiled, but it wasn't a friendly smile. It was cold. Calculating. "This is the beginning, Sable. The beginning of the end."
And in that moment, Sable understood. This wasn't just a game. This was Eidolon's final phase. This was the true test.
But what would be left of him when the game was over?
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