Embrace of the void

The Guild Leader's office was vast, featuring a well-stocked bookcase on one side and a plush sofa positioned nearby. Papers were meticulously arranged across the leader's desk, reflecting a sense of order amidst the chaos of guild affairs.

The leader himself appeared aged, with short gray hair and a light beard, yet his muscular build, accentuated by a tailored black suit, conveyed an undeniable aura of strength. The energy radiating from him was palpable, making Michael feel an uncomfortable tightness in his chest. Despite Michael's entrance, the leader remained engrossed in his book, seemingly unfazed by the interruption.

 "What do you want from me, Elena?" he inquired in a calm, measured tone.

 "Sir, I have brought you a member of the Nightshade family who wishes to register," Elena replied, her voice steady.

At the mention of the Nightshade name, the leader lifted his gaze, his eyes locking onto Michael. A chill ran down Michael's spine, causing every hair on his body to stand on end.

 "Very well. You may leave us, Elena," the Guild Leader commanded.

After Elena left, Michael and the Guild Leader locked eyes in a tense silence.

 "You can sit down now. No need to stay standing," the Guild Leader said, his voice calm but commanding.

Michael hesitated, then sank into the chair across from the imposing figure. "What do you want from me?" he demanded, trying to mask the unease creeping up his spine.

The Guild Leader continued to stare, his expression unreadable. "You're not afraid of me," he noted, almost with amusement. "I can kill you with a breath from my mouth. Do you understand that?"

 "I'm not afraid of death," Michael shot back, his voice steady. "I've discovered that death isn't the end. Threatening me won't help you. Now tell me what you want, or I'll walk out of here."

The Guild Leader sighed, a hint of frustration flickering in his eyes. "You're as crazy as your father."

 "My name is Lucian Grey," he continued, his tone shifting to one of sincerity. "Don't worry, I'm not your enemy. There's no need to be so wary."

 "Let me guess," Michael replied, skepticism dripping from his words. "I was a friend of my father's, and you're here to help me." He scoffed, crossing his arms defiantly.

 "No, I was not a friend of your father. In fact, I tried to kill him more than once when he was alive." Lucian's gaze hardened, but there was an odd respect in his voice. "I was a friend of your grandfather, your father's father."

Michael's expression shifted from defiance to surprise. "What?"

 "In the past, my daughter admired your father greatly, but he broke her heart and got engaged to your mother. I chased him, hell-bent on cutting off his head, but your father was skilled at escaping." Lucian's voice turned bitter as he recalled those days.

Michael sat in stunned silence, grappling with the revelation.

"In the end, your father broke through to rank S. Even though I was rank S myself, I never stood a chance against him. In our last fight, he left me a wound I could never heal—a scar I carry to this day. Though I didn't like him much, I respect him."

Michael listened intently, then asked, "What about my grandfather?"

 "Your grandfather was something else," Lucian replied, his tone softening. "One of the smartest men I've ever known. Unfortunately, he was afflicted by a disease that no one could cure, and he died before you were born. He was like a brother to me."

"How can I believe any of your bullshit?" Michael challenged, his frustration boiling over.

Lucian sighed and withdrew a strange crystal ball from his ring. "This is the {Soulscribe Orb}. Nobles, kings, even other races use it to record information and memories. If you go to the academy, you'll see it used to teach students skills and techniques."

He held the orb out, its surface glimmering with potential. "This item allows the user to record a message using their soul essence. The message can never be faked—unless you're SS rank and can manipulate souls. It can only be activated by the person it's recorded for."

Lucian tossed the orb to Michael, who caught it with a mix of surprise and intrigue. "Infuse it with your mana, and you'll see."

Michael injected mana into the orb, watching as its color shifted and it emitted a blinding light. Suddenly, his vision went dark.

In the void, a familiar figure materialized—one he never expected to see again. It was Jack Nightshade, Michael's deceased father.

A tear slipped down Michael's cheek as Jack's smile lit up the darkness. "If you're listening to this message, it means I'm dead, and maybe even your mother is gone too. I know you have questions, but all I can say is that we're sorry. Many will try to kill you or kidnap you. You must survive. Never trust anyone unless they have a message like this."

Jack's expression turned serious. "I've distributed messages to a few friends—friends who might help you, if they can. If you want more information, head to the continent of Frostholm."

 "Your mother told me to tell you to live your life and not seek revenge for us," he added, a chuckle escaping his lips. "Fuck this, I'll tell you this: the bastard who killed us was the Demon King. I can't tell you why—you'll have to figure that out yourself. But if you can, I ask you to cut off his damned head and shove it up his ass. Then my soul will finally rest in peace."

Jack's voice softened again. "We left you a storage ring filled with treasures and items that might help you. The ring is with Matt Silverfang; he'll give it to you. And you can trust this old gray man," he said, gesturing to Lucian. "Ask him for whatever you need."

 "Now, goodbye, son. Take care of yourself. We love you very much."

The message cut off, and Michael found himself back in the office, tears streaming down his face.

 "Are you okay? What happened? Who left you the message?" Nyxar's worried voice echoed in Michael's mind.

"I'm fine," Michael replied, wiping away the tears. "It seems my father left me a shitload of messages with some friends. We might have to collect them one day."

"Do you trust me now, young man?" Lucian inquired.

Michael nodded in acknowledgment. The older man let out a heavy sigh. "I regret what has transpired, but there is little we can do to change it. What matters now is that you move forward.

Now to my knowledge, you should have awakened over three weeks ago. What delayed your registration?".