The dungeon was damp and reeked of dead earth. Torchlight could not pierce the winding depth of the cave's corridors. Only the faint flame on a stone altar reflected off the fractured metal blade in Kenji's hand—a weathered sword he had found amidst the ruins of the gods' temple.
Sannr.
An ancient name, a whisper from an age so old even the Orcs had never passed it down in folklore. The first time he touched the blade, Kenji felt as though it wasn't metal that brushed his skin—but Truth itself.
The sword pulsed. Yes, pulsed. Like a living heart bound to a vein not of this world.
Then, the voice came. In his mind. Not a shout, not a hiss. A subtle vibration—cold, yet filled with power.
"You are merely a shard of Truth... something the gods buried."
Kenji froze. He had heard spirits before, dreams from the gods, even whispers from the Void. But this... this was different.Sannr wasn't an entity offering power. It was a reminder. A revelation of something long sealed away.
Suddenly, the cracked blade emitted a pale violet light, and the room collapsed into vision.
Flashback.
Kenji saw himself—not as an Orc, nor a grown man—but as a young boy. A scrawny child in a school uniform, sitting alone in a park with a cold bento box. His face blank. At first, the world seemed normal. But the clouds above didn't move. Time was frozen. And in that silence, someone arrived.
A figure in white robes. Fingerless. His face unseen, as if empty.
"Kenji Watanabe. You were not chosen. You were sacrificed."
The vision changed. A hospital. Blood. A doctor silently staring at a monitor. Outside, two men spoke—voicelessly. Sannr forced the meaning of their lip movements into Kenji's mind:
"The subject has died naturally. Reincarnation protocol can proceed.""Let him think it was illness. Cleaner. More... natural."
Kenji screamed and slammed the sword to the ground.
His breath came in ragged gasps. Blood dripped from his nose and ears. He fell to his knees, trembling. Cold sweat soaked his skin. But the worst pain was something he couldn't name—like his soul being slowly pulled from its nest.
"Each vision drains you, Human-Orc," Sannr's voice echoed softly."Because each truth you witness… replaces the lies that once held your soul together."
Kenji said nothing. He touched his left chest—feeling a heartbeat that was now irregular. Like two rhythms clashing.
"What... what am I?" he finally asked, his voice trembling—not from fear, but from emptiness.
Sannr paused, then said:
"You are something that should not exist. A soul forcibly reborn. And your Orc body is a prison, crafted so you would never remember."
Kenji bowed his head.
Was everything he fought for meaningless? All the blood, the strategies, the sacrifices—merely a script written by unseen hands?
But then, something inside him resisted.
Not anger. Will.He remembered Mog, who died to save him. Varis, who believed in him. Kree, who made him proof that a blend of two races could surpass both. Kenji had forged destiny, even if destiny was never his.
He picked up Sannr again.
"If I was never meant to exist... then let me be the one who shouldn't have, but still wins."
The candlelight around the altar flared brighter, as if answering his resolve. But Sannr continued to test him.
"You can see more, Kenji. You can uncover the entire structure of lies the gods built since the dawn of the world. But each vision... comes at a price."
Kenji gripped the sword tightly.
"Then show me. Just once more. I'll decide for myself what's worth fighting."
Sannr said nothing. Instead, the world around him collapsed again.
Second Vision.
This time, he didn't see himself—but the world.A world where Orcs, humans, elves, dragons—all major races—emerged together. But they weren't born naturally.They were shaped. Sculpted from energy. Designed for purpose. Orcs as guardians. Elves as keepers of arcane forests. Humans as explorers and conquerors.
And the creators?
They weren't "gods" in a spiritual sense.
They were cosmic entities afraid of something older. So they forged races as living shields.
Kenji saw it: the gods cursed these beings to never realize they were walls. Instilled with instincts to kill one another—so they'd never have time to ask why they existed.
Including the Orcs.Including the humans.Including… him.
When the vision ended, Kenji collapsed.
His body felt lighter—but not in a good way. More like... hollow.
He touched his face. His skin was pale. His left hand trembled unnaturally. Sannr said nothing, but its glow dimmed, as if satisfied. Or perhaps… sorrowful.
"You're starting to lose parts of yourself," the sword finally murmured."Truth cannot be undone. And now you know… even the gods lie."
Kenji stood up, swaying, but his eyes were no longer uncertain.
"I don't care who made me. I don't care if I'm a tool or a threat. There's only one thing I care about…"
He looked up to the cave's black ceiling.
"…if all of this is a lie, then I'll be the blade that cuts through it."
Sannr shimmered faintly.
"Then begin. For those above have seen you. And now... they are afraid."