Kang Min entered the subspace.
Thousands of pedestals stretched into the darkness, each holding a fragment of the man Kang Min used to be.
Some pedestals were cracked, their items greyed out and locked behind the iron bars of his sealed narrative, but others were beginning to pulse with a faint, expectant light.
Kang Min walked with purpose, his boots making no sound on the glass-like floor.
He bypassed gleaming armors and staves that hummed with forbidden magic until he reached a specific casing near the quadrant
marked [Floor 48: The Scorched Duchy].
Inside the crystal pillar sat a single,
unassuming black glove.
To a common merchant or a low-level appraiser, it would look like a simple piece of weathered leather.
But to those who knew the fables of the upper floors, this was the Left Hand of Varkas.
In the Old World, Varkas had been a swordsman whose name made the Stars lean in closer to listen.
