Aaron fixed his gaze on Endrick. The system’s instructions still lingered in his mind, and with deliberate focus, he willed the curse of eternal doom into existence, directing it toward Endrick.
The reaction was instant.
"AAARGHHHH!" Endrick’s scream tore through the chamber, raw and guttural, as if his very soul was being clawed at. His body convulsed violently, muscles bulging and spasming out of control as a blazing mark seared itself onto his flesh.
A blood-red moon appeared on his right arm, grotesque and unearthly, its surface streaked with what looked like rivulets of blood flowing downward like eternal tears. The mark glowed with a sinister pulse, each beat sending waves of unbearable agony through his body.
Aaron’s lips curved into a dark smile. "Luck drain."
He activated his talent, and at once the threads of fortune clinging to Endrick were stripped away, leaving only emptiness. The system confird what Aaron already knew—Endrick’s luck had been devoured, his fate condemned to the abyss. Immortal, yes, but bound to eternal suffering.
"W-Why?! What did you do to ?!" Endrick howled, clutching at his arm as his entire body shook. He could feel it—his blood boiling as though acid flowed through his veins, evaporating into steam only to reform again. His skin bubbled, lted, and sloughed off in dripping sheets, before instantly regenerating, forcing him to endure the sa horrific dissolution again and again.
His cries reverberated through the cavern, twisted with madness. "Why am I in so much pain?!"
Leo, still catching his breath after the brutal fight, turned toward Aaron with wide eyes. "What... what did you do to him?" His voice carried both fear and disbelief.
Aaron’s response was almost casual, as if this display of horror were nothing more than a minor experint. "Let’s just say we now have an unlucky immortal, dood to suffer for eternity. Co on, Leo—let’s go."
With that, he summoned a rift and stepped through it, Leo hesitating only briefly before following.
Endrick’s voice echoed after them. "Wait for ! What did you do to ?!" His broken form staggered forward, desperation fueling his movents as he lunged toward the collapsing gateway. But the curse had already poisoned his fate. The unstable rift twisted violently, rejecting him, and flung his body into the chaotic void.
And there, his tornt only deepened.
In the void, chaotic energy converged on him from every direction, tearing apart not just his body, but his mind and soul as well. His form disintegrated into nothing, shredded into dust finer than atoms, before immortality dragged him back together—only to have the cycle repeat instantly. His psyche cracked, shattered, and reford, over and over, with no reprieve. Every scream was swallowed by the endless void, echoing into silence, until his voice itself beca hollow. Rest was denied him. Death refused him. Endrick was now nothing more than a vessel of ceaseless tornt.
---
On the other side of the rift, Aaron and Leo stepped into the sanctuary.
The change was imdiate. Unlike the quiet, hollow sanctuary Aaron once shared with Flaborn, this place was now alive—bursting with sound, movent, and presence. Thousands of refugees filled its expanse, their voices weaving into a low, restless murmur. The air carried both hope and fear, a fragile balance hanging on Aaron’s will.
The sanctuary itself glowed faintly with divine energy, its walls marked by runes of stability Aaron had personally inscribed. Towers of pale stone rose at the edges of the great hall, light shimring across their surfaces, while wide platforms and open chambers had been shaped to accommodate the swelling population. This was no longer just a hidden refuge. It was becoming the foundation of sothing far greater—an empire.
Isobel approached, her posture firm and dutiful, her expression one of complete loyalty. She bowed slightly. "Brother."
Aaron nodded, his tone crisp. "Gather the humans who remain unturned. They will be the first. Once they are ready, I’ll move on to the next phase of my plan."
At his command, the crowd shifted. Soon, those untouched by his power stood apart, their eyes filled with equal parts fear and anticipation.
Rhea, Draken, and the rest of the refugees gathered as well, each maintaining a tense silence.
Aaron stepped forward, raising his voice so all could hear. "I have been away from Blue Star for more than a year," he said, his words steady, resounding across the chamber. "During that ti, I was cut off from its struggles, unaware of its decline. But seeing it now—reduced to ruin, its people scattered and broken—it enrages . It sickens . I will not stand by while you remain weak, at the rcy of your enemies. That is why I will offer you strength. Strength enough to fight back. Strength enough to protect the lost."
The crowd murmured, hope sparking in their eyes.
Aaron raised his hand, gesturing to a man in the front row. "Step forward."
The man obeyed nervously. Aaron studied his status. "You are an unawakened, yes? And everyone here knows it?"
The man nodded quickly. "Y-Yes. They know."
Aaron softened his tone just slightly. "Don’t be afraid. This is not punishnt. I am offering you a chance to rise. Tell —are you willing to accept it?"
The man’s eyes darted around, then fixed on Aaron with determination. "Yes! If it ans I will never be weak again—I accept!"
Aaron’s lips curved faintly. "Very well."
He turned the man before everyone’s eyes. The transformation was swift, breathtaking. The man’s posture straightened, his muscles hardened, his presence grew heavier, more commanding. Gasps rippled through the crowd as they witnessed what was once an ordinary refugee ascend into sothing stronger, faster, and unmistakably more powerful.
Aaron let the silence stretch before speaking. "This is what I offer you. A new path. A new life. Power, if you are willing to accept it." His gaze swept over them all, his tone edged with steel. "I will not force it upon you. Those days are gone. This world is not peaceful—it is an apocalypse where only strength guarantees survival. You know this. Choose for yourselves."
The silence that followed was short-lived. One after another, voices rang out in agreent. "Yes!" "I’ll take it!" "Give that power!" Desperation outweighed hesitation; fear of weakness outweighed doubt.
But one voice stood apart.
Draken.
"I’m sorry to break the mont," he said calmly, stepping forward, his gaze sharp. "But I refuse. I have lived too long to believe anything in this world cos free. You offer us power, yes—but what do you truly take in return? What price must we pay?"
Aaron regarded him evenly. "Only your loyalty. Only your devotion."
Draken shook his head. "No. That alone, I cannot trust. We may not be enemies, Aaron—but I cannot believe your claim is that simple. Forgive , but I will not accept."
Aaron exhaled slowly, then nodded. "Very well. I will not force you. But understand this—this dinsion is mine. I will share it only with those I can trust. If you cannot accept my bond, then you must leave."
A rift shimred into being behind Draken.
"That will return you to the underground city you ca from. Endrick and his chiras are gone—you will be safe."
Draken inclined his head respectfully. "Thank you. And forgive for my refusal." Without another word, he stepped through the rift and vanished.
Aaron turned his gaze back to the crowd. "Anyone else?"
No one moved. Not a single soul dared follow Draken.
Aaron’s voice was final. "Good." With a motion of his hand, the rift closed.
And then, one by one, he turned the rest. Each rose anew, stronger, bound to him, their old weakness burned away. When it was done, Aaron led Leo and his closest companions back to the castle. The ti for hesitation was over. The foundation had been laid. Now ca the second phase—assigning roles, dividing authority, and shaping his sanctuary into the beating heart of an empire.
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