The shadow moved.

  It did not rush forward.It did not erupt from the darkness.

  It simply… separated from it,as if it had always been standing there.

  Anonime stepped forward.

  His armor resembled that of a medieval crusader knight,but it was not made of the usual shining steel.

  Matte black iron covered it instead,its surface cracked and scarredas if centuries of prayers and blood had burned themselves into the metal.

  Across the breastplate stretched a faded cross.Not painted in white —it looked as if the iron itself remembered it.

  A long, torn cloak hung from his shoulders,darker than the night itself.

  It did not move with the wind.

  His helmet was closed.Through its narrow slit no eyes could be seen —only a faint, cold light.

  Not demonic.

  Not divine.

  Something… judging.

  In his hand he held a sword.

  Long.Simple.With a cruciform hilt.

  The blade reflected no light.

  As if reality itself avoided touching it.

  Rintal stood trembling before him,his sword raised to his chest.

  The seal on his arm tightened.

  But it did not attack.

  It did not scream.

  It remained silent.

  Anonime spoke slowly.

  “I'm not going to stop you by force.”

  His voice was deep. Calm.

  Not threatening.Not pleading.

  “If you want to kill yourself…you may.”

  Rintal’s hand trembled.

  “Then… why did you interfere?”“Why shouldn’t I do it?!”

  Anonime tilted his head slightly.

  “Because I saw something before I came here.”

  Rintal frowned.

  “What…?”

  Anonime slowly raised his sword.

  Not in an attack.

  But as if remembering.

  “A golden fracture in the air.”

  “Not light.”“Not a gate.”

  “A tear in the fabric of creation.”

  The tip of the sword stopped in the air.

  “And I cut it open.”

  The darkness around them trembled.

  As if the world itself remembered the motion.

  Rintal’s eyes widened.

  “What… are you talking about?”

  Anonime lowered the blade.

  “That someone wanted me to come here.”

  “And the astral path led straight to you.”

  Silence.

  The wind slowly returned.

  Rintal’s voice was hoarse.

  “Then… who are you?”

  “And why are you standing here?”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  Anonime took a step forward.

  His armor made no sound.

  “I serve the Lord.”

  The word was not shouted.

  It was not emphasized.

  Yet it carried weight.

  “Not the Church.”“Not kings.”“Not men.”

  “Only Him.”

  Rintal almost laughed.

  Bitterly.

  “Christ…?”

  “Then where was He when everyone I loved died?”

  “Where was He when Areday—”

  The dagger slipped from his hand.

  He collapsed to all fours,laughing and crying like a madman.

  Anonime did not interrupt.

  He let the pain pour out.

  Then he spoke.

  “We live in a prison world.”

  “The Church hides this truth in order to gain power.”

  “They are already corrupt.”

  “They no longer serve the Lord.”

  “And they do not serve Christ either…”

  “They serve the one who cursed you.”

  “The one who needed the seal.”

  “And they either do not know this…or refuse to see it.”

  His voice did not tremble.

  It sounded like that of a fanatic.

  Conviction.

  “And I believe He sent me.”

  Rintal slowly lowered his sword.

  “Why…?”

  “Why me?”

  Anonime looked at the seal on his arm.

  Longer than necessary.

  “Because within you… both things exist.”

  “Fall.”

  “And the possibility of judgment.”

  He stepped closer.

  “You have a mission, Rintal.”

  “And it is not to save the world.”

  His voice darkened.

  “It is to survive what is coming.”

  “And to break a curse you can no longer escape.”

  The darkness thickened around them.

  The seal pulsed again.

  Not with joy.

  With fear.

  Anonime finally spoke the words.

  “And if you do not stand up…”

  “You may truly become the Anti-Christ.”

  “And then…”

  “I will have to kill you.”

  Silence.

  The world waited.

  Rintal stood trembling before the grave.

  And before a choice.

  Rintal did not move for a long time.

  The earth was still fresh.

  His hands were bloody.

  His soul was empty.

  The seal pulsed slowly on his arm.

  As if watching.

  It did not command.

  It waited.

  Finally Rintal raised his head.

  His face was broken.

  His eyes red from bloody tears.

  But no longer empty.

  “I have nothing left to lose… I think.”

  His voice was hoarse.

  But clear.

  “Areday is dead.”

  His fists clenched.

  “And I won’t let his sacrifice mean nothing.”

  He slowly stood.

  “If I am cursed… I accept it.”

  “If I am judgment… then I will become it.”

  He looked up at Anonime’s helmet.

  “Take me there.”

  “Anywhere.”

  “I will learn to live with this.”

  “And I will learn how to take revenge.”

  The seal pulsed once.

  Stronger.

  It did not resist.

  Anonime watched him for several long seconds.

  Then he nodded.

  “Then you have chosen.”

  He turned.

  And raised his sword.

  Not to fight.

  Not to threaten.

  But ceremonially.

  The tip pointed into the empty air.

  “When I came here,” he said quietly,

  “I did not pass through a gate.”

  The blade touched nothing.

  And the nothing…

  cracked.

  Not with an explosion.

  Not with light.

  A thin golden fracture appeared in the airas if reality were glass.

  Inside the fracture there was no darkness.

  Only depth.

  Anonime cut it open with a single motion.

  The sound was not a clash.

  It was a deep, distant sigh.

  As if a world had exhaled.

  The fracture widened.

  Beyond it lay a place…

  hidden from everything.

  Anonime stepped aside.

  “This is the Refuge.”

  Rintal looked inside.

  A vast underground cathedral opened before them.

  It had not been built.

  It had been carved.

  The walls were ancient stone,covered in engravings:

  crosses,broken wings,forgotten prayers written in lost languages.

  Black roots hung from the ceilingas if the heart of the world had grown down into the chamber.

  At the center stood a vast circular hall.

  In its middle was a deep fissurefrom which pale white light slowly rose.

  It did not burn.

  It did not tempt.

  It watched.

  “This is the Depth of Silence,” Anonime said.

  “A place beneath the world.”

  “Where the voices of the gods no longer reach.”

  “And where curses… learn to remain quiet.”

  Rintal stepped forward.

  The seal recoiled.

  “It does not rule you here,” Anonime continued.

  “But it does not disappear either.”

  “You will learn here.”

  Rintal looked back once more.

  At the grave.

  At the ground.

  At the life he had lost.

  “Say goodbye,” Anonime said quietly.

  Rintal closed his eyes.

  For a moment he stood still.

  Then he stepped forward.

  The fracture sealed behind them.

  As if it had never existed.

  Above, the island continued to burn.

  The world moved on.

  But deep below…

  In the Depth of Silence…

  Rintal’s true journey had begun.