The cave's interior still thrummed with the last remnants of power. Ashen lines traced along the cavern walls, and the ground bore the burns of shadow-laced runes. A soft glow pulsed beneath Zane's bare feet before dimming completely. The week-long ritual had ended—its aftershock still hung heavy in the air.
Zane exhaled as he stood, his body transformed. His muscles were more defined now—his physique honed like a living blade. He flexed a hand, watching shadows ripple across his skin like veins of living ink. Everything about him felt new... sharper, faster, deeper. There was no longer a "Void Touched" presence inside him.
After putting his clothes back on and rolling his neck with a casual pop, he flicked his fingers, and the wall of solid shadow sealing the cave's mouth peeled away like torn fabric.
Bright light flooded in.
And with it—voices. Hundreds of them.
Zane blinked and stepped out, hands raised lazily in the universal "don't shoot me" pose. His coat fluttered around him, shadows curling off the ends like wisps of smoke. An entire army stood in the sand, armored and ready, weapons drawn, mages chanting.
A lot of people. A lot of confused and very terrified people.
"Oh... good morning," Zane said with a smirk. "Don't mind me. Just finished ascending to godhood. You know—average Tuesday."
A mage near the front fumbled a spell-scroll and whispered, "He's the source. That mana... it's not human."
From somewhere in the crowd, a nervous soldier shouted, "It's moving!" and fired a bolt of bright-red fire magic.
The projectile raced toward Zane's chest like a shooting star.
And then—he vanished.
Zane reappeared behind the soldier in the same instant, one hand already lowering from a quick chop to the back of the soldier's neck. The man slumped into the sand, unconscious, his armor clinking as he hit the ground.
Zane adjusted his sleeves. "Hmmm," he said quietly, cracking a small grin. "That's nice. Doesn't take as much effort as before."
Gasps echoed across the crowd.
He turned toward them, now fully in control of the stage. "Okay, first of all: If you see a literal wall of shadow, maybe don't park your whole army outside it like you're tailgating a doomsday. Second..." He raised his hand again, this time flicking a finger.
A small sphere of darkness pulsed above his palm before winking out.
"I don't want to fight. I just want to walk away, enjoy the sunshine, maybe terrorize the next idiot who tries to test me. Deal?"
Even the wind paused.
Then Nyx's voice echoed in his mind, a purr of amusement.
You really know how to make an entrance.
"I don't make entrances, Nyx. I make statements."
With a casual strut, he walked straight through the army, who wisely parted like the sea before him. No one dared to lift a weapon. Some dropped theirs entirely.
Behind him, the unconscious soldier snored into the sand.