As I stepped into the dimly lit cave, a cold shiver ran down my spine. There, on the ground, lay a figure—a man, battered, bloodied, and on the verge of collapsing. His clothes were torn, and he seemed to be struggling to breathe. I hesitated, my mind racing with questions. What had happened to him?
I took a cautious step closer, my heart pounding in my chest. "Hey, mister, are you okay?" I called out, trying to keep my voice steady. "What happened to you?"
The man's eyes slowly flickered open, and I felt an instant chill. His gaze was strange—black as night, no whites visible. It was as though his eyes had been swallowed by darkness itself. My breath caught in my throat.
He groaned, shifting slightly, clearly in pain, before lifting his head to meet my gaze. "Ah, a human child," he said, his voice unsettling—deep and foreign, with an edge of something dangerous. It was a voice that didn't belong in this world.
"Human...?" I muttered, confused.
"What are you talking about?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. Something about him felt wrong, but I couldn't look away from his unsettling gaze. My body screamed to run, but my legs were frozen in place.
"Who are you?" I asked, trying to steady my breath.
The man's eyes narrowed, studying me. "I am a Phobian," he said, each word carrying an air of finality, as though it was a title.
The word struck me like a bolt of lightning. Phobian? My instincts flared. I had heard of them—creatures of immense power, feared by all. But this man… he looked different. He didn't seem like the monsters I'd imagined. He looked… vulnerable.
"A P-Ph-Phobian?" My voice faltered, the weight of his words sinking in.
I instinctively took a step back, readying myself. "Inferno Blast!" I shouted, gathering all the mana I could muster and launching a barrage of fireballs in his direction.
But to my surprise, the Phobian didn't flinch. Instead, he raised a hand weakly. "Hold it, boy. I'm in no position to fight," he said, his voice rough, filled with pain.
I stopped mid-motion, the fireballs dissipating in the air. He wasn't fighting back. His whole body was shaking, his face contorted in agony.
"I won't harm you," he added, his voice carrying an unusual sincerity.
My heart raced. Trusting him felt wrong. How could I? A Phobian? The monsters I had always been taught to fear?
I eyed him, unsure. "How can I trust you?" I asked, my voice firm. "You'll attack me the moment I drop my guard."
His eyes softened, and he let out a small sigh, his expression serious. "Just believe me for once, boy," he said quietly. "I won't betray my word."
I couldn't help but notice the sincerity in his eyes. Something about him didn't seem like the ruthless creatures I had imagined. But still, I couldn't ignore the danger in front of me.
My hands were trembling as I lowered them slowly, the fire fading. "Fine," I muttered reluctantly. "But don't think for a second that I trust you."
The Phobian nodded, a flash of gratitude crossing his face. "Thank you for understanding," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. He bowed his head slightly, a gesture of respect that caught me off guard.
"I'm still on edge," I muttered, keeping my distance. "But I won't attack unless I have to."
He smiled faintly, though the expression quickly turned to a grimace. "I understand."
I studied him carefully. There was still something off about him, something unsettling. But for the moment, I was willing to listen. "What happened to you?" I asked, taking another step closer, my curiosity outweighing my caution.
The Phobian's expression darkened, his eyes distant as he spoke. "I'm Zarak," he said, his voice filled with a strange bitterness. "And I've been running from my own kind."
"Running?" I repeated, a frown furrowing on my brow. "From other Phobians? Why?"
Zarak's eyes narrowed, his lips curling slightly in a bitter smile. "I've stolen something—something very important," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Something... dangerous."
My pulse quickened. "Stolen something? What are you talking about?"
He grimaced, clearly in pain, but managed to keep talking. "It's called the Aetherstone. It's one of the Seven Ancient Energy Stones. Powerful, volatile... and it's been stolen from the royal treasure chamber."
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. "The Aetherstone? What is it? Where did you find it?"
Zarak took a labored breath, wincing in pain. "I had to sneak into the royal treasure chamber to get it," he said slowly. "It wasn't easy. The place is protected by some of the most powerful enchantments and wards known to the Phobians."
I frowned. "The royal treasure chamber? How did you even get access to it?"
Zarak looked at me, a glint of bitterness in his eyes. "I was General Commander of the 5th Division. I had clearance to protect it. My job was to ensure no one got in. But I… I betrayed them."
A General Commander? That was a high rank, even among the Phobians. I took a step back, my mind spinning with the implications. "Why would you betray your own people?"
Zarak's expression grew somber. "I had no choice. we Had to do it."
I narrowed my eyes, trying to piece this together. " 'We'? Who We? Who told you to steal the Aetherstone?"
Zarak paused, his gaze flicking away. "I can't say," he muttered. "I can't reveal his name."
"Why?" I pressed, confused. "Who are you working for?"
Zarak's eyes clouded with a strange, guarded emotion. "I work for someone who wants to bring down the current regime," he said, his voice low and serious. "We're part of a secret organization—against the rest of the Phobians. We're… fighting for something greater."
The air in the cave seemed to grow heavier as his words hung in the air. A secret organization? Fighting against the Phobians?
I stepped closer, my mind racing. "What are you planning? What's the end goal here?"