Ash floated in the wind like snow, falling silently around Kell as he stood frozen. The sky above was dim—neither night nor day—cast in a ghostly twilight. In front of him, framed by the smoldering remnants of a shattered battlefield, stood a tall, muscular man.
He looked like he had stepped out of a forgotten legend.
Brown hair, long and windblown, cascaded down to his shoulders. A faint beard framed a jawline carved with elegance and resolve. Scars, deep and countless, crisscrossed his chest and arms, each one a silent witness to a thousand unseen battles. Yet not one mark diminished the ethereal calm of his face.
He smiled.
That smile was not born of arrogance or cruelty—it was the quiet smile of someone who had seen endless lifetimes and still chose kindness. His eyes, a deep bronze, glowed with a calmness that unsettled Kell's soul in the gentlest way.
For a long moment, the two simply stared at each other.
Kell's breath caught. Who… is he? The man's presence alone felt like it could shift the tides of fate. His heart pounded, but oddly—not in fear. In peace.
And then, with a voice softer than a whisper but deeper than thunder, the man spoke:
"Are you the last one standing, child?" he asked.
Kell struggled to speak. "Who are you? Is this... real? I thought no one was left here. Am I... dead? Or lost in a dream?"
The man chuckled lightly, the sound as soothing as rain on parched earth. "No dream. And you are very much alive. I am Fuzi. The world knows me as Lord Fuzi. I have come from beyond the veil—from the same place that angel arrived. I know what has happened here. I know what will come next."
Kell blinked, overwhelmed. This man—this being—his words echoed with truth.
Fuzi took a step forward. "You feel hollow. You believe you are broken. That there is nothing left in you worth saving. Am I wrong?"
Kell's voice cracked. "I'm... nothing. I have no power. I'm just a failure. A weight this world has long stopped carrying."
But Fuzi's eyes held no judgment. Only purpose.
"No, Kell," he said softly. "You are exactly who I've been searching for."
The air shifted.
"I've come to make you my disciple. You will be the first… and the last."
Kell's knees weakened. He nearly stumbled. "W-what? Your disciple? But… why? I have nothing to offer. I'm not special. I—"
"You are needed," Fuzi said firmly. "And if you accept, you will meet them again those you've lost."
Kell froze. "Them?"
A flash of warmth surged through his chest—them. A memory. A hope.
"But why me?" Kell whispered, tears brimming in his eyes. "If you want my life, take it. Just don't lie to me. Please… don't give me false hope."
Fuzi's expression turned solemn.
"Then let the world itself judge my truth."
Without hesitation, he bit the flesh of his own hand. Blood welled up, crimson and rich. He raised his finger to the sky, his voice echoing across the broken land.
"I, Lord Fuzi, swear upon this world—every word I've spoken to Kell is true. I seek nothing from him but his choice. And if I lie… may this world erase me from its weave."
The skies roared.
Red clouds bloomed like wounds in the heavens. Blue lightning tore through the firmament. Thunder cracked like the war drums of gods.
Kell's eyes widened—he knew this oath. Knew what it meant. What it cost.
He dropped to his knees.
"I… I'm sorry," he whispered, tears spilling freely. "Forgive me for doubting you."
And then, with head bowed and heart open, he said the words that would bind his fate forever:
"Master."
Fuzi smiled again, a rare warmth touching his battle-worn face.
The oath was complete.
"The world does not choose the worthy—it breaks them first, then waits to see who stands back up."...Lord Fuzi to Kell.
And in that stillness, something ancient stirred...