The stabbing pain that coursed through his body was the first thing Anthrax noticed as he slowly regained consciousness. It was like thousands of needles were stabbing into every inch of his skin, making every small movement feel like torture. He tried to move his fingers, and felt something hard and cold beneath him—not the dirty concrete floor of Layer 9, but something different.
Stone. Smooth, cold stone, almost like marble.
Anthrax forced his swollen eyes open, if only slightly. The first thing he saw was not the utter darkness he had expected from the bottom of the mysterious hole. Instead, there was light—a dim, bluish light, radiating from all directions with no apparent source.
Slowly, with difficulty, he lifted his head. The sight that greeted him took his breath away.
He was in a vast room, larger than anything he had ever seen on Layer 9. The ceiling was so high that it was almost invisible in the dim blue light. The walls were made of the same stone as the floor—a smooth black stone with faint silver veins.
But what was most astonishing were the giant pillars that were scattered throughout the room. They were unlike any architecture he had ever seen. They were organic in shape, twisting like giant trees made of metal and stone. On their surfaces were carved strange symbols that glowed with the same light as the veins in the walls.
Anthrax tried to get up, and felt his body shaking violently. Strangely, although he still felt the pain from the beating on Layer 9, his wounds were not as bad as he remembered. The blood on his face and arms had dried, and some of the small cuts even seemed to be starting to close.
"Where... where am I?" he whispered, his voice echoing in the vast space.
Only when he managed to stand with difficulty did he realize that this was no ordinary room. This was a temple. An ancient temple that had been abandoned for a long time, but still retained its terrifying splendor.
At the far end of the room, he could see something that resembled an altar—a stone platform raised above the floor, with a flight of steps leading up to it. Above the altar, there was a structure he couldn't quite identify from his current distance.
Anthrax walked slowly, his weak legs barely able to support his body. Each step he took produced a strange echo, as if the room were much larger than it appeared.
The closer he got to the altar, the more he could see the astonishing details. The pillars weren't just decorated with carvings—they were moving. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, but surely moving. The symbols flowed like water across the stone, merging and separating in hypnotic patterns.
"This can't be," Anthrax muttered, unable to tear his eyes away from the impossible sight.
On Layer 9, he had seen many strange things—the side effects of chemical pollution, genetic mutations, malfunctioning technology. But this was different. This was not the result of failed science or broken technology. This was something... ancient. Something from a time long before the Layered City existed.
As he neared the altar, the voice began to grow.
At first it was a faint whisper, barely distinguishable from the echo of his own footsteps. But slowly, the whisper became clearer, more real. It was not a voice coming from any particular direction—it seemed to come from within the walls, from the air itself, even from inside his head.
"Finally... finally someone has come..."
Anthrax stopped dead in his tracks, his heart pounding. He looked left and right, searching for the source of the voice, but the room remained empty.
"Fear not, young man... you have been expected..."
"Who is there?" Anthrax shouted, his voice shaking. "Come out!"
The whisper turned into a soft laugh, but there was something about it that made the hairs on the back of Anthrax's neck stand on end. "Get out? Oh, sweet child... I've been here long before the city above you was even built... I'm part of this place..."
Anthrax took a step back, his eyes darting around for a way out. But he realized he couldn't see any. There was no door, no ladder, no hole in the ceiling to show where he had fallen.
"Don't waste your energy looking for a way out... it's not time yet..."
"What do you want from me?" Anthrax asked, trying to keep his voice steady even as fear began to grip him.
"Want? Oh, it's not that I want something from you... it's that you need something from me..."
The whispering stopped for a moment, and in the silence Anthrax could hear his own heart beating faster.
"You're tired, aren't you? Tired of being beaten, of being insulted, of being treated like trash... tired of being helpless..."
The words stabbed straight into Anthrax's heart. All the frustration, all the despair he had held back for years on Layer 9 suddenly came pouring out.
"What do you know about my life?" Anthrax said in a voice that shook with anger and sadness.
"I know everything... I see everything... every night you go to bed with an empty stomach... every day you are belittled by those who feel stronger... every moment you dream of being more than just a 'trash boy'..."
Anthrax could not deny the truth in those words. He did dream. Every night, in his restless sleep on the wet cardboard, he dreamed of being someone strong, someone who was feared and respected, not pitied or trampled on.
"I can give you all that..."
"In return for what?" Anthrax asked. Even in his despair, he was smart enough to know that nothing in this world is free.
The soft laughter sounded again.
"Smart... that's good... I do need something from you... but not now... think of it as... an investment..."
Anthrax stepped closer to the altar, his curiosity overcoming his fear. On the stone platform, he could see more clearly what was there.
A crystal. A large crystal the size of a man's head, jet black with silver veins running across its surface. It glowed with the same light as the carvings on the pillars, and Anthrax could feel the power radiating from it—a power that made him feel small and insignificant.
"Isn't it beautiful? It's a Legacy Core… an artifact from a civilization long lost… a civilization that wielded powers that even now are barely comprehensible…"
"Legacy?" Anthrax repeated the word, it felt familiar to his tongue even though he didn't know why.
"Yes... inheritance... a power passed down from generation to generation... but the last generation has died out... until now..."
The whisper stopped, and Anthrax felt something shift in the air around him. A pressure, like before a great storm.
"You are the chosen one, Anthrax... chosen to be the heir of this power... chosen to rise from the ashes and become something greater..."
"How do you know my name?" Anthrax asked in a barely audible whisper.
"I know many things... including that it is not your true name... it was given by those who despised you... but the true name of an heir is not determined by others..."
Anthrax felt something stir in his chest, something hard to explain. Like a small fire was starting to burn, giving him a warmth he had never felt before.
"Touch the crystal..."
Anthrax hesitated. Every instinct told him that this was dangerous, that he didn't know what would happen if he touched this foreign object.
"Fear is the greatest barrier to true power... if you wish to remain a trashy brat who gets beaten up every day, you can leave now... I will open a way out..."
The words were like a whip. Anthrax felt a familiar rage—rage at his circumstances, at his powerlessness, at everyone who had treated him like trash.
Without thinking, he climbed the steps to the altar.
The crystal grew larger as he approached, and the power emanating from it grew more intense. His hand shook as he reached out toward the black crystal.
"Yes... accept your inheritance..."
Anthrax's fingers touched the surface of the crystal.
What happened next was beyond anything he could have imagined.
Pure energy flowed through his body like liquid lightning. It wasn't pain—it was something more intense than pain. Every cell in his body was screaming, changing, growing. He could feel his wounds healing at an impossible speed, broken bones reattaching, muscles strengthening.
But most shocking of all was the knowledge that suddenly poured into his head. Images, words, concepts he had never understood before. He glimpsed an ancient civilization that had mastered technology that seemed like magic. He saw the Inheritors—humans chosen to inherit this power and use it to protect or destroy.
"Good... very good... you took it well... not everyone can survive this process..."
Anthrax couldn't answer. His entire body was still shaking from the energy coursing through him. When the sensation finally began to subside, he stepped back from the crystal and stared at his own hands.
His hand looked the same, but he could feel the difference. There was power there, a power he had never felt before. When he clenched his fist, the air around him vibrated.
"This is just the beginning... your power will grow with time... but now, you must return to your world... your first task awaits..."
"Task?" Anthrax finally managed to speak, though his voice sounded strange to his own ears—deeper, more powerful.
"Of course... power without purpose is destruction... you must prove yourself worthy of this legacy..."
Before Anthrax could ask further, the floor beneath his feet began to shake. A deep rumbling echoed throughout the temple, and dust began to fall from the high ceilings.
"Our time is up... they have sensed the rise of this power... they are coming..."
"Who are they?" Anthrax shouted over the growing roar.
But the whispers did not answer. Instead, Anthrax felt a strange force pulling him, as if an invisible hand had lifted him from the floor.
As he hovered in the air, his eyes caught something that made his blood run cold. In the far corner of the room, in the darkness that not even blue light could penetrate, a pair of giant eyes began to open.
The eyes were as big as doors, glowing red as embers. When they opened fully, Anthrax could see the intelligence within them—an intelligence that was old, evil, and very, very hungry.
The creature that owned the eyes began to move in the darkness, a giant shadow that he could not fully see. All he could see was the outline of something very large, something that should not be there, something that had been sleeping in these depths for who knows how long.
"Run... run and never come back here... at least not until you are ready to face what you have awakened..."
The force pulling him grew stronger, and the sight of the ancient temple began to blur. The last thing he saw was the giant red eyes staring at him with a gaze that made his soul tremble.
Then the darkness swallowed him once more.