The dark vortex continued spinning, now even more chaotically.
Only about thirty seconds had passed since the dark figure stepped its first feet out of the vortex and into the crafting space, resounding in a quick switch of authority over the area.
Rowan stood opposite the vortex with a troubled expression on his face, struggling to keep his body balanced. His mind still could not stop wandering about the mysteries unfolding before him. He also could not stop praying that whatever it was, it wouldn't kill him. If it did, his body would remain in the crafting space until it decayed into nothing. Not even his people would be aware of his death—he couldn't even wish such a fate upon his enemies.
Another minute passed, and finally, the body of the invader began appearing. It was humanoid as expected; however, its entire body seemed to be made of nothing but solidified darkness, while a misty and powerful ominous dark aura shrouded it. Another minute passed—the vortex stopped spinning chaotically and began shrinking. At that moment, Rowan stopped facing the ominous dark figure, observing its features, searching for any clue to its identity. But none appeared. While it was covered in darkness, its face seemed to hold no details, shrouded in the same dark mist. It almost appeared as though it was headless. At this moment, Rowan felt clueless as a newborn.
On the other hand, the ominous figure stood facing Rowan. While it had no face, Rowan could tell that this figure was paying extreme attention to him.
"Ha..." the figure heaved a low sigh. There was nothing spatial about the voice—it sounded like every average human male, which was the opposite of Rowan's expectation.
"Who are you?" Rowan asked the important question immediately. His eyes cautiously observed the stranger.
"Who am I?" The hands of the figure pointed at its non-existing face and asked; its tone was neither rude nor friendly.
Rowan nodded in response.
The figure heaved a sigh once again. "I go by many names: The dark, darkness, night, void, demon, devil—everything involving the dark aspect of existence, including Sin and Death. I have been called those and many more. They sound about right. Call me Benzene instead."
Rowan could only stare as the names were listed. He could not help but find this scenario extremely similar to novels he had read on Earth—where the protagonist is approached by otherworldly evil beings and granted mysterious skills and abilities, sometimes even a mission with uncertain endings.
'Judging from how he introduced himself, I don't think he is here to kill me,' Rowan deduced. He summoned up courage and moved the conversation forward. "Why is such a magnificent being as yourself here?"
"Haha, I'm far from magnificent—quite the opposite if you ask—but who cares?" Benzene shrugged. "I am the messenger of the creator. I'm sure you might have noticed something strange about the Assistant assigned to you," Benzene continued, punctuating his statement with a question.
'Assistant? He is talking about the system, I presume. The creator is definitely the god of this world, but why is such a person interested in me?'
Rowan was confused by what he meant, but he nodded to continue the conversation.
Benzene continued, "Judging from your reaction, it is clear you don't recall your meetings with the creator, my master."
This time Rowan was even more confused. 'Meeting with the creator? When? How? Could it be related to those strange voices I hear in my head and the unclear memories of a face I still can't recall...'
"You don't recall?" Benzene asked again.
Rowan shook his head.
"That confirms it. No wonder you haven't been acting on the mission assigned to you."
"Mission assigned to me? Is it carrying my territory to the highest rank ever?"
Benzene shook his head. "That is a compulsory life mission for every player. But yours is special, as you are no ordinary player—one my master has an interesting purpose for."
"If you could recall your last meeting, you would've understood my words even better. It seems the difference of power between both dimensions has resulted in you being unable to recall everything; your mental strength is still very weak."
Benzene spent about three minutes speaking about the last meeting, the creator, and the difference between worlds to Rowan. But it all sounded like gibberish, too complex to understand.
"Well, even if I relay the message in words, after leaving this place your memories would be jolted once again due to the difference in mental strength between us, and you would most likely forget everything. To prevent that, I have documented everything you need in here."
Benzene swiped his hands, and a scroll appeared midair. It was dark in color, with glowing golden text in a strange language that Rowan failed to understand; there was even a mix of symbols in it. The scroll drifted toward Rowan.
Rowan grabbed it and tried unfolding it to read, but it refused to bulge. He lifted his head to look at Benzene for an explanation.
"That scroll contains a mission. Once your mental strength is strong enough, it will reveal itself to you. I added a gift alongside. Do well to make good use of it," Benzene explained.
Rowan stared at the scroll once again and then at Benzene. The whole situation was bizarre, but Rowan decided to accept his fate and hope everything was for the better.
"I'll keep it safe," he said.
He tried opening his inventory to store the scroll, but he couldn't. He was about to question Benzene about it when the scroll forcefully left his hands and shot toward his chest like a rocket, sending Rowan flying more than ten feet behind and collapsing with a thud as pain wrecked his body at once, disorienting his senses simultaneously.
With the last bit of sanity, Rowan felt something sharp and cold dig painfully into his chest. He also heard the unclear last words as Benzene's dark figure began fading away.
"Goodbye, Rowan. It will take a long time, but we will finally meet again. Or maybe never—maybe you'll meet my twin instead. Who knows?"