The ground collapsed with a thunderous roar. What was supposed to be a simple Goblin cave had transformed into a nightmare of stone. An Abyssal Guardian—an A-Rank monster composed of black rock and spectral flames—had surged from a rift, triggering a massive earthquake.
"Fall back behind my barrier!" Kaelen screamed, his trembling hands channeling every drop of his mana.
Alaric, uncharacteristically serious, hacked through falling debris with his new sword, while Isolde froze the walls to prevent a total collapse. But a gaping fissure opened directly beneath Nameless's feet.
"NAMELESS!" Leo cried out, reaching out a hand.
Too late. The boy was swallowed by the darkness, plummeting into the lower levels of the dungeon, far from the professor's protection and the light of the torches.
Alone in the Abyss
Nameless awoke in a tomb-like silence. His body was bruised, but his gloves remained intact. He was alone in a part of the dungeon that appeared on no map. Here, the walls were not natural stone; they were etched with ancient runes that seemed to pulse in rhythm with his own heart.
He pressed forward, guided by a strange violet glow emanating from the walls. After what felt like hours, he reached a circular chamber. In the center, a black crystal stela floated above an altar.
As he approached, a voice resonated in his mind—a voice he had heard before in his dreams. "You have returned... yet you are so weak within this prison of flesh..."
The crystal illuminated, displaying blurred images of ancient battles, dark dragons, and a man wearing the exact same gloves as him, standing upon a throne of ashes. On the stela, a single name was engraved in blood-red letters that felt familiar to Nameless, though he could not yet read them.
Nameless placed his gloved hand upon the stela. A surge of fragmented memories struck him: a woman's face smiling at him, the sound of chains breaking, and a name—the name of the "HIM" that Elara feared so much.
He was not an accident. He was a Legacy.