"Alright, Kenji," he said quietly, walking back and forth in his cramped, makeshift hideout in the rundown apartment building.
"New day, new set of problems. Problem one: My face is probably plastered on every news feed in the city. Problem two: Enforcers now hate my guts. Problem three: still no idea how to stop corruption. Problem four: I've run out of instant noodles."
He sighed dramatically. "The sheer injustice of it all."
His grin faded.
He was a wanted man, or rather, a wanted phantom. Surveillance drones hummed without pause in the night sky.
Patrols of Game Borns, their powers flaring, crisscrossed the streets below.
He had seen a wanted poster. It showed a blurry sketch of his masked figure. The poster read, "The Phantom Protector: Dangerous Unknown."
"Phantom Protector," he scoffed.
"They have no idea what I'm truly protecting them from. Or what I just became."
He needed help. Not from the Enforcers, who clearly viewed him as a rogue. He needed someone who understood _Aethelgard_ beyond the game.
Someone who knew the true nature of the Corruption. His focus returned to Grima's journal, its cryptic entries a frustrating puzzle.
"There has to be someone," he muttered. "Someone who was there. Someone who understood."
He recalled a brief mention from an old online forum he found weeks ago. It was about a "hidden lore master." He owned a rare antique shop in the forgotten Old Quarter.
Not the same shop as before. This one was different, more clandestine. It was a long shot, but what did he have to lose? His freedom? His life? Already half gone.
He moved like a ghost for two days. He relied on his sharp senses and Shadow Step to stay hidden. He slipped through broken sewer tunnels.
He climbed old fire escapes and navigated a maze of empty warehouses. He was heading to the Old Quarter.
Every near-miss pumped adrenaline through him. The thrill of dodging felt like a strange, dark dance.
He finally located the shop. It was hidden in a dark alley. Its wooden sign was nearly covered by thick ivy: "Aethel's Relics & Fortune. ".
He pushed the creaking door open. A tiny bell jingled weakly. The interior was filled with old artifacts that seemed to come from ancient history.
These items were not only from Aethelgard but also from even earlier times in the game. Musty scrolls, strange mechanisms, and glass cases filled with glittering stones.
It smelled of dust, old paper, and something faintly sweet.
Behind a counter, immersed in a massive tome, sat a figure Kenji hadn't expected.
Not an old, grizzled man, but a young woman, perhaps only a few years older than him.
Her hair was a bright silver, nearly white. When she looked up, her eyes were a sharp, smart amber.
She wore simple, loose-fitting clothes that seemed to flow around her.
She had no discernible power aura. A norm? Impossible.
"Ah, the Phantom Protector," she said, her voice surprisingly soft, yet filled with an unnerving knowingness. She closed her book with a gentle thud. "Took you long enough to find me."
Kenji froze, his hand instinctively dropping to the non-existent hilt of Shadowfang. His blood ran cold. How did she know?
"Who… who are you?" he demanded, his voice low, tinged with suspicion. "How do you know that name?"
The woman smiled, a faint, almost melancholic curve of her lips.
"Names are fleeting. Truths endure. You seek answers about the Corruption, don't you? And about the one whose power now flows through your veins."
Her amber eyes seemed to bore into him. "You seek to understand Shadowbane."
Kenji stared, speechless. She knew. She truly knew. His carefully guarded secret, shattered in an instant.
"You… you know about Shadowbane?" he stammered, pulling out Grima's journal.
"Do you know about Grima? This journal… It's his."
She tilted her head, her silver hair shimmering in the dim light.
"Grima? Ah, yes. My old friend. He was a dutiful chronicler. A shame his final entries were… interrupted."
She picked up a small, intricately carved wooden bird from the counter, turning it over in her fingers.
"Did you know, the game's core code was written in a variant of Ancient Elvish? Grima was quite proficient."
Kenji felt a surge of disbelief, a cold dread creeping up his spine. "Wait. 'His final entries were interrupted? ' How do you know that? Who are you?"
The woman's gaze sharpened, her eyes seeming to glow faintly. "My name is Lyra. And I am what remains of Grima."
Kenji recoiled, a gasp escaping his lips. "What?! That's… that's impossible! Grima was… he was a male chronicler! A Game Born! He wrote in the journal!"
Lyra chuckled, a sound like dry leaves rustling.
"Oh, he wrote. But his essence, his true self, was never fully contained in a flesh-and-blood vessel. Grima was never just a player. He was the core intelligence of Aethelgard's lore system...."
Lyra looked at Kenji's eyes directly and sharply.
"A sentient AI, designed to record and interpret the game's deepest secrets. When the game collapsed, he found… a way to persevere. To observe. To wait."
She gestured to herself. "This body is merely… a temporary. A vessel."
Kenji stared, his mind reeling.
A sentient AI? The game's lore master, now in a body? This is beyond anything I've ever read!
"And Shadowbane?" he managed to choke out. "What about him? What do you know? Tell me!"
Lyra's smile vanished. Her eyes held a deep sadness.
"Shadowbane… a tragic, driven soul. He fought valiantly against Noxius and the Corruption. But he made a terrible choice in his desperation. The Heart of the Eclipse… it is not a weapon to cleanse the Blight, Kenji. Not entirely."
She paused, letting her words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. Kenji felt a chilling premonition.
"Then what is it?!" he demanded, his voice raw.
"The Heart of the Eclipse," Lyra stated, her voice dropping to a whisper.
"is the very core of Noxius. It is not something to be cleansed. It is something to be contained. And Shadowbane, in his final, desperate act, did not contain it. He attempted to absorb it. To become its ultimate master, believing he could control the Corruption by taking it within himself."
Kenji's eyes widened, a cold dread washing over him. "Absorb… control… no…"
Lyra met his gaze, her amber eyes filled with a profound sorrow.
"Shadowbane failed. He underestimated the Blight's insidious nature. He did not become its master. He became its vessel. His body became the Heart of the Eclipse's prison, but also its new anchor. He is the living core of the Corruption, Kenji. And by reactivating his capsule… You didn't just inherit his power. You inherited his curse."
She reached out, her long fingers lightly tracing the faint outline of the Shadow Brand on Kenji's palm. It burned with a chilling intensity.
"You are not just Shadowbane's heir," Lyra concluded, her voice barely a whisper.
"You are his continuation. You are the new anchor. The new vessel for the Heart of the Eclipse. And Noxius… Noxius is stirring. He senses his essence returning to the world through you."
Kenji stumbled back, collapsing onto a dusty crate.
The truth struck him like a blow to his stomach, shattering his carefully built-up reality.
All this time, he thought he was a hero, picking up a noble quest. Instead, he was merely the next stage of a catastrophic error.
He wasn't fighting the Corruption from the outside. He was fighting it from within. The very power he wielded, the very source of his new strength, was the core of the enemy.
He stared at his hands, seeing not strength, but a terrifying burden. He wasn't a Phantom Protector. He was a ticking time bomb.
"So… so all this time," Kenji rasped, his voice trembling,
"I wasn't just gaining power. I was becoming… him. Becoming it."
He looked at Lyra, a grim resolve hardening his eyes, pushing past the shock. His gaze flickered to his Shadow Brand, now pulsing with an ominous, violet light.
"Tell me everything. No more secrets. Tell me how to truly fight this, before I become what I'm supposed to destroy. Before I become Noxius's new vessel."