THE SHADOW OF WAR, A SISTER'S TRUTH

In a place beyond the maps of the Altverse, in a circular room suspended in a void, a round obsidian table glowed in an ethereal light. Around it, seventeen figures sat. They were the Generals of the Regions, the mages, warriors and even sages of the highest level and power, the pillars that upheld order in Altverse. A heavily armored warrior with the emblem of a lion, an elven archmage with a millenarian countenance, an assassin who seemed to melt into the shadows... and among them, the General of the southwestern region, a stern-faced man known as Kael.

In the center of the table floated a letter, sealed with an emblem that no one recognized: a broken eye from which darkness dripped.

— It is a declaration of war - said the archmage. — But not of one region against another. It is of... something else.

— He speaks of purifying"the lands, of a "Herald" and of the "Dawn of the Shadow. — the lion warrior growled — This is nonsense from a cult of lunatics.—

— Lunatics who were able to get this letter to all of us simultaneously, circumventing the most advanced security systems in each of the realms. — Kael replied, his voice as sharp as ice. — Do not underestimate this threat. This is something we are not prepared for. A war against something beyond our imagination. —

A heavy silence fell over the mightiest warriors of the Altverse. The peace was over.

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Assimil dipped the tip of his virtual pen into the inkwell and wrote in his journal.

...the dream was different this time. There was no locker, no laughter. Just a little boy, maybe my brother, or my son... I don't know. He was looking at me with tear-filled eyes and screaming over and over, "I hate you! I hate you!". And I... I just stood there, looking at him from afar, unable to move, unable to say anything. The pain in his voice felt... like it was my fault.

The pen stopped. What did it mean, who had he hurt so badly in that life he couldn't remember?

The soft knock on the door brought him out of his melancholy. — Come in. — The door opened and Noelia entered. Asimil was surprised. She never went to his room. He noticed her wringing her hands, a nervous gesture so unbecoming of her that it left him speechless. Her cheeks were slightly flushed.

—  Manager Valerius has summoned all clan fighters to the central square at noon. It's... mandatory — he said, his voice a little lower than usual.

— Ah, okay. Thanks for the heads up. —But she didn't leave. Instead, she walked all the way in and closed the door behind her. She stood there, looking anywhere in the room but at him. Asimil's heart began to beat faster. She is nervous. She is flushed. She has closed the door. — Does she... want to...? — The idea was so absurd and sudden that she felt the heat rise in her face. Adult stuff? Now?

The tension became so thick that Asimil thought she was going to choke. Finally, she spoke, and the tension didn't break, it transformed.

— I wanted to... I wanted to talk to you. About my brother. — Asimil blinked, all her adolescent fantasy vanishing in an instant, replaced by absolute seriousness. He pointed to the chair next to his desk, but she shook her head and, to his surprise, sat on the edge of his bed.

He began to talk, his gaze lost in the wall. She told him that her brother, Gray, had always been the prodigy. A kind soul with an innate talent for magic that she, with all her effort, could not match.
— He could feel the flow of all the elements. Fire, ice, earth, wind... for him it was like breathing. I... I could only master ice. My parents were so proud of him. —

One day, a group of high-level adventurers, mercenaries, spotted him. They recognized his potential and kidnapped him, planning to sell him to a dark clan looking for "talents" for their experiments.

— I went crazy — Noelia continued, her voice now a trembling whisper. — I trained day and night. I became obsessed. I ignored everyone. My only goal was to become strong enough to go rescue him. And I almost succeeded. —

When he finally tracked down the group of mercenaries, he prepared for the assault. But he was too late. The adventurers' camp had suffered a surprise attack by a rival clan. And they... they used Gray as a shield. As bait.

The anger and pain in his voice were palpable. — That day... something broke inside me. If kindness kills you, then I will be cruel. If trust betrays you, then I will trust no one. If being weak means dying... then I will become the strongest and most arrogant person in this world, so that no one can ever hurt me again. So that no one will depend on me and I will never have to fail them again. —

He finished his story. The silence in the room was absolute. Asimil said nothing. He offered no empty words of comfort or stupid advice. He simply stood up, walked over and, with a gentleness he didn't know he possessed, embraced her.

Noelia stood completely rigid, surprised by the contact. Her body was tense, ready to reject him. But she didn't. Slowly, very slowly, she felt her shoulders relax. She hesitated for a moment, her hands hovering in the air, unsure whether to reciprocate or not. But she remained still, silently receiving that embrace that asked for nothing, only offered comfort.

When they left the room, Ikel was leaning against the opposite wall, grinning mischievously.

— Well, well! Am I interrupting something? They were taking too long in there, huh? —

Noelia, with slightly reddened eyes but her cool mask back on, glared at him. — Shut up, Ikel. Come on, or we'll be late. —

She and Ikel went ahead, arguing quietly, probably to fetch Sacres. Asimil hung back for a moment, processing everything. He was walking alone through the clan's corridors, his mind on Noelia's tragic story, when he turned a corner and bumped into someone. — Oh, sorry! — said a soft voice.

A silverhaired elf had stumbled, and a stack of documents she was carrying was scattered on the floor.

— No, it's my fault, I wasn't looking — Asimil hastened to say.

He bent down to help her pick up the papers. They were reports, membership lists, patrol schedules? normal stuff. He handed her the bundle of papers. — Thank you very much — she said with a shy smile, and left in a hurry, almost running.

Asimil stood up, but then he saw that he had forgotten one. A single parchment that had been left under a table. He picked it up to call out to her, but his gaze stopped on the title, written in elegant and urgent calligraphy:

SURVEILLANCE DIRECTIVE: POTENTIAL VACUUM RECEPTACLES - CLASSIFIED.

Asimil's heart skipped a beat. Receptacles? Empty? His eyes roamed down the parchment, scrolling through the text until he found a small list of names, sorted by "affinity level."

Spectro - (Affinity confirmed. Active agent. Threat level: Alpha.)

Saitras - (High latent affinity. Self-contained subject. Threat level: Unknown. Observation priority: High).

Assimil - (Indeterminate latent affinity. Connection with anomalous external source. Threat level: Potentially catastrophic. Observation priority: Highest).

The parchment trembled in his hand. The color disappeared from his face, replaced by a deathly pallor. A cold sweat broke out on his back.

I was not a simple person with amnesia. He was not a weirdo with an unstable self. He was something much worse. He was a candidate. A vessel. A time bomb with the potential to harbor the very darkness that threatened to devour his world.

Noelia's embrace, Ikel's friendship, Sacres' pride... everything suddenly felt fragile, conditioned. Did they know? Was that why they were watching him? His very existence was a risk.

He folded the paper with trembling hands and pocketed it. The secret burned in his pocket, a weight far more terrible than any monster he had ever faced. The question in his mind was no longer "who was I?" but one far more terrifying:

"What am I destined to become?".