*Labucha Mountain Range*
A barren yet sparsely forested mountain range, its caves interconnected and fused into a rock formation that looks like a deformed chunk of land itself.
Zain had been walking, climbing, and searching every nook and cranny he could physically reach, steadily making his way upward as he explored the way upto the cave openings for clues about his alleged fated encounters.
---
"Sigh…"
It's been an hour, and I still can't find any weird trees or out of the place rocks…
He continued striking trees and rocks with a stick he had picked up along the way, occasionally pausing to peer through his psionic binoculars.
"Thank the heavens for making this world tech advanced."
He fiddled with a psionic north poser...essentially a psionic compass.
'Psions really are pretty neat, huh… not to mention psionic and scientific amalgamations.'
"Gosh, I can't wait to awaken my root chakra and play with psions."
Within his rapid train of thoughts arrived a station.
"Never mind psions, what race am I even?"
"Surely I'm not human, right?"
Humour at his lips he mused on the knowledge he digested.
'Pure humans haven't really been a thing since psionic mutation after the Cataclysm.'
As his train of thoughts left this one, it continued forward to next stations to salivate the boredom of striking trees and knocking rocks.
After pondering on his origins and future plans, he finally reached the cave structures.
---
*Entrance to the cave*
"Whoa…"
Admiring the sight of caves within caves, interconnected paths twisting into the mountain like veins, the extra slowly strode forward, searching for anything that is out of place.
*Inside the Cave Structures*
Placed between two conspicuously large cave mouths was a narrow path leading upward, shrouded in mystery.
Zain stopped before it, inspecting the way ahead.
'Hmm… seems suspicious enough.'
As loitered around an obviously shady place for a sane person to roam about, he continued.
"If I was an MC, I would definitely run up there to hide from something…"
Finding his logic impeccable in a cliché world he started gathering his courage.
Zain stretched his tired body and prepared to climb this slight opening to whatever is above, oblivious to what it may entail for his future destiny.
As he ascended the obviously artificial path, he found himself staring at a rift.
Yes— a rift.
'Am I seeing this right!?'
As he gawked at it, he couldn't help but question himself while scratching his head in frustration.
"Isn't this a bit too early for my level?"
He tried to reason, but failed as his thoughts kept thinking about the rift.
"Did I confuse a mid level area for a beginner level one?"
His confusion momentarily overwhelmed him, but he forcefully snapped himself out of spiraling.
He shook his head violently as to physically throw the ominous thoughts out.
Frowned he thought back to the bits of rift knowledge included in the beginner's memory package.
'So these are supposed to house the main antagonist factions, huh…'
As he looked towards the spatial tear in front of him glowing a gloomy blue centered around a white spill of whatever it was.
He exhaled.
"I forgot this world has a clear common enemy. Heh…"
His thoughts swirled as he continued his pondering on what this might entail.
Since the Cataclysm, rifts had formed as pockets of space saturated with energy opposite to psions — Berserk.
If left alone, a rift slowly eroded the environment, making it suitable for Berserk energy and Berserk creatures.
'So these things are homes to Berserk beasts and Berserk nobles, huh…,
As he thought about the consequences of mutations caused by Berserk energy, his mind wandered to something that is obviously cliché.
"Of course there would be someone who makes contracts with them…"
Taking a amazed expression to express the obvious state of world, he muttered the entities that represented the evil in good.
"The Rogues…"
As he uttered the name Zain suddenly became motionless.
No — not motionless... He was enamoured.
His eyes gleamed with excitement, with a love for something he had yearned for.
'The world building is definitely solid enough.'
His thoughts going back to his normal (?) self.
"Can't wait to go to some lybrary."
He excitement to uncover even more about that world was palpable through his excited expression.
"Of course there should be a lybrary arc for me, an extra!!…"
After that abrupt celebration including jumping around like a kid who won a doll from a mall machine, Zain finally focused on the rift.
"No energy leak visible… small in size… not yet blood red…"
He inspected the rift like an experienced explorer would do in Amazon.
"Definitely a newly formed one."
As if his assessment on the rift came positive to his cause he reagined his vigor compared to the gloom he experienced first upon seeing the rift at first.
'So… this must be the opportunity.'
Steeling himself, he rubbed his hands together for courage.
Once ready, he strode inside with determination and ecstasy brimming in his eyes.
And if one looked closely, they would notice the madness in his crimson spots... the madness of someone utterly certain of his thoughts and ideals.
---
*Inside the Rift*
A huge room stretched before him, dominated by a large table adorned with everything one would need for a reading session.
To the left were four rows of shelves, divided by a central path... two shelves per side.
On the wall beside the table hung a chained scythe.
The entire display seemed to be waiting for someone reckless enough to open it and wise enough to fear it.
Zain froze.... his entire mind foggin with single thought at that moment.
An avid fan of unconventional fantasy weapons thanks to his previous life as a 3D generalist and professional weeb...he stared, forgetting to even breathe.
"Blood Reaper…"
As he spoke, he suddenly burst into manic laughter, like someone whose evil scheme had succeeded.
'It's definitely…'
"Blood Reaper…"
He inhaled sharply to stabilize himself, but his trembling hands and cracking voice betrayed how overwhelmed he was.
"It's really Blood Reaper from Shadow Fight…"
"I can't mistake it... I've played too much to forget its beauty…"
He approached the case and absorbed every detail.
Inside, like a forgotten relic of the past, lay the weapon.... a masterpiece sculpted from shadow and steel.
The crescent blade was an arc of dark crimson metal, polished to a gleam that seemed to pulse with its own heartbeat.
The handle was bound in deep black leather smooth, and perfect... giving the weapon an aura almost regal. The kind of aura that the dying would welcome, like the embrace of the grim reaper himself.
From its base extended a chain of immaculate links of unknown origin, each crafted with obsessive precision, ending in a rotary shuriken-like blade, a perfect circle of interlocking edges that caught the light like a star made of knives.
Its aura screamed regalia... a ceremonial weapon of the divine, its crescent blade thirsting for blood, its chains hoping for someone hold it not letting one go, and its circular end eager to shred the very essence of anyone who dared face it.
The beauty overwhelmed Zain so completely that by the time he realized what he had done, it was already too late.
He had touched the bare handle.
---
*Inside the Weapon Space*
"Blood…"
That is what he could see, no... that is what it was.
Bloody crimson stretched in every direction..
above, below, behind, before.
A dimension of endless red, consuming even the sanity of those who worship blood.