The Rise of the Lost

It took the brave warrior and his younger brother nearly an hour to reach the front of the great castle.

It was majestic and beautiful—

but more than that, it was mysterious.

As if it had risen from the very depths of a black abyss.

Tall pillars of shadow-black stone,

arched bridges resting upon them,

and two towering spires draped in pitch-black banners,

each bearing a strange symbol—like a mark of shadow.

Its size wasn't overwhelmingly large,

but its presence was both terrifying… and beautiful.

Strangely, though the sun above the city was shining brightly,

its light failed to pierce the shadows that wrapped around the castle—

as if it were guarded by an ancient being shielding it from the day.

Kalm gasped and swallowed nervously.

In all his short life,

this was, without a doubt, the most awe-inspiring and bizarre structure he had ever seen.

At the castle gates stood two guards with stern, harsh gazes,

wearing black armor that looked as if it had been forged from the shadows themselves.

The guard on the right lifted his massive spear,

struck its base against the ground,

and bowed his head slightly in respect.

Meanwhile, the one on the left opened the gate silently.

The two brothers bowed their heads in mutual respect

and stepped forward with steady strides.

Upon passing the gate,

a stone pathway led to a split staircase—left and right.

Many doors branched off in various directions,

and the shadows inside the castle felt deeper—darker.

Along the towering walls were several torches,

casting just enough light to illuminate the path ahead.

The entire place radiated a strange sense of **dread, isolation… and solitude**.

Yet the brave warrior pressed forward with the same firm expression,

ascending the gray marble steps until he stood before a large, plain black door—unadorned by any decoration.

After two seconds of silence, the door opened on its own,

casting light into the **grand throne room** beyond.

The room was empty,

lined with tall windows that let in no sunlight,

adorned with intricate carvings on its walls and countless strange runes.

At its far end was a stunning throne—

oddly, not extravagant or shining,

but beautiful in its simple, matte black elegance.

Upon the throne sat a woman of **incomparable beauty**—

no, *exquisite* beauty.

Her hair was black as a raven's wing, flowing like silk over her shoulders.

Her dress matched its color, embracing her figure,

with sleeves extending from her shoulders to her elbows.

Her skin was smooth and ivory white.

Her eyes… were black as obsidian and deep as an ancient pool.

She did not possess a tall frame or extravagant curves,

but her presence was delicate, soft,

and overwhelmingly beautiful—

as if a divine being had descended from the heavens to walk the earth.

Kalm, who hovered at the edge of the warrior's perception,

swallowed hard, unable to take his eyes off the woman.

She was—perhaps would always be—the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

He felt that looking away from her would be an act of *treason*.

Lost in these thoughts,

the brave warrior and his brother approached

and knelt on one knee with reverence, their gazes fixed to the ground.

The warrior spoke,

his voice filled with respect and devotion:

> "I greet the Great Queen.

> Please, my Queen, grant me your command."

The Queen looked down from her throne,

her obsidian eyes settling upon him for a moment.

Then she spoke.

Her voice was soft, beautiful, and elegant—

a voice that touched the soul.

> "Please give me a brief report of all that has happened in the last three days."

The warrior raised his head slightly,

but kept his eyes on the gray marble steps.

He spoke clearly:

> "My Queen, the first wall was destroyed by a monster of the Fifth Tier.

> It exploded part of the barrier—

> a loss that cost us many lives, resources, and logistical supplies.

> We are now defending the second wall,

> relying on rotations between different army units.

> Many soldiers have lost their lives.

> I believe our numbers now do not exceed five thousand—

> including both regular soldiers and Awakened."

He paused to gather his thoughts.

> "The Awakened whose aspects are related to agriculture and plant life

> are trying to find a way to resolve the food shortage,

> which is on the brink of depletion.

> Those with aspects related to water and purification

> are working tirelessly to filter and store water

> to redistribute it to the population as fast as possible."

The warrior bit his lip,

finally speaking in a voice tinged with helplessness:

> "Yesterday, our scouting parties returned from the east, south, and west—

> it appears that five **Sixth-Tier Gates** have opened simultaneously…

> and two **Seventh-Tier Gates** as well.

> The weakest of their monsters are Fourth Tier, my Queen.

> Added to that, panic and fear have infected both soldiers and civilians.

> Some have taken their own lives due to broken wills,

> while others have gone mad and lost all self-control..."

…

> "My Queen…

> The monsters have become organized.

> They are following coordinated strategies.

> It seems a **King** has risen among them—

> or perhaps… he is soon to arrive."

The warrior fell silent after completing his grim report,

awaiting the Queen's response.

She stared at him with her deep obsidian eyes,

their meaning unreadable—

and **Kalm**, watching from the corner of the warrior's awareness,

held his breath...

At that moment, the Queen stood and descended the steps—

the sound of her footsteps echoing through the throne room like a rhythmic melody.

As she neared the floor, the shadows within the hall stirred—

as if they were alive, bowing in reverence to their sovereign.

She stopped beside the warrior and gently placed her hand on his shoulder,

patting it three times.

A faint, sorrowful smile rose on her beautiful face,

and she spoke with a voice heavy with grief:

> "I see…

> Thank you.

> No—thank all of you.

> You fought. You battled.

> You killed monsters, and you were killed by those vile creatures…

> You encouraged your comrades, and you refused to abandon your humanity.

> For all of that… from the depths of my heart, thank you."

The Queen fell silent and stepped back.

She slowly extended her palm into the air—

and the shadows that had once slumbered in the throne room twisted,

shaping themselves into a beautiful black sword

forged of a matte, lusterless metal

with a blade sharp enough to sever the world.

With grace, she held out the sword to the younger brother and spoke softly:

> "Here, warrior.

> This sword is the most I can offer you…"

The young warrior's eyes lit up—

with awe, pride, and overwhelming joy flooding his entire being.

He grasped the sword with both hands and spoke, full of honor:

> "I thank my Queen.

> I swear to wield it to purge the enemies of my Queen and my kingdom."

She placed her hand on his shoulder and smiled once more:

> "I believe you will... Now… could you grant us a moment alone, please?"

The younger warrior nodded firmly,

bowed deeply to the Queen,

and exited the hall,

leaving the Queen and the brave warrior alone.

The Queen turned, her deep ruby eyes locking onto the warrior—

still kneeling on one knee.

> "Warrior… I will ask one last thing of you, as your Queen.... Will you carry it out?"

Without hesitation, the warrior replied, his tone resolute:

> "Of course, my Queen."

She stepped forward,

and elegantly, the shadows once again moved—

forming a dagger with twin edges in her hand.

She held it out to the warrior,

her beautiful eyes filled with sorrow:

> "Will you… die for me?"

Then she added,

her voice laced with reverence:

> "No, not for me— for *that person*…"

The warrior looked at the black dagger in silence.

Then he rose and took it firmly.

His eyes did not flinch,

nor did his hands tremble.

He raised his gaze to the Queen and asked:

> "My Queen… It seems you've discovered something during these past three days.. May I ask what it is?"

The Queen rubbed her eyes

and looked into the shadows for a few seconds,

then back at the warrior.

She spoke,

her voice laden with sorrow and bitterness:

> "Our world… has already fallen... Long ago... We are nothing more than an illusion—created for some purpose…"

The warrior's eyes widened,

his hand trembled as it clutched the dagger.

He parted his lips, his voice shaky:

> "Forgive my rudeness, my Queen… But are you certain?"

The Queen smiled with sadness

and pointed toward his shadow:

"What I say could be considered madness... We are trapped in some strange disturbance_ our humanity is on the verge of extinction, and these cursed beasts are about to rule our world.

Any sane mind might break under such pressure…"

She paused.

Her smile faded, replaced by grim seriousness:

> "It seems the invention of *the Lost One*… has succeeded.... It seems he is powerful enough to place me here—within the memories and body of the great Queen of Shadows.

And the proof is…

there is someone already sharing your senses and body,

watching and listening to us."

The warrior's expression froze.

His eyes darkened.

> "Then what you're saying…

> is that our world is gone.

> Everyone in it is either dead or has turned into bloodthirsty monsters.

> What a cruel joke, after all we've fought for…"

He raised the dagger

and placed its edge against his throat.

> "I won't ask further, my Queen.

> It seems you're certain.

> What will happen to this person—

> the one invading my body—after I die?"

The Queen looked at his shadow for a long moment and replied:

> "It seems… his true trial will begin then.

> And in that moment, I will know what to do with him…"

The warrior smiled faintly,

knelt on both knees,

and without hesitation,

plunged the black dagger into his neck.

The twin-edged blade sliced cleanly through—

and crimson blood sprayed across the floor.

In mere seconds, life vanished from the warrior's eyes,

and his body collapsed into the pool of his own blood.

The Queen watched the blood with a deep sadness in her beautiful eyes.

And then—

from the warrior's lifeless body, a spectral form slowly emerged.

Its features shifted quickly:

long black hair, calm obsidian eyes, pale skin, and a slightly short frame—

Kalm.

He gasped violently and fell to his knees,

his hand immediately flying to his neck.

He touched it in panic,

but once he confirmed there was no wound,

he breathed a sigh of relief and regained his composure.

Slowly, he lifted his gaze toward the Queen—

who, strangely, had turned her eyes away,

a slight blush upon her flawless face.

Kalm felt a chill run across his body.

He looked down—

and realized, in a flash of horror,

that he was completely *naked*.

His face flushed red,

and he scrambled to cover himself.

But there was nothing nearby to hide with.

Just as panic set in,

the shadows gently moved,

wrapping around his frail form—

forming soft, black clothes

that felt like pure silk.

Kalm looked back at the Queen,

his heart pounding.

> "*So… what happens to me now…?*"