Strange Man
last update2026-04-26 14:46:30

Kane walked in silence, his boots crunching over dead leaves while Vesper moved beside him, quiet as always.

Neither of them mentioned the river.

Neither of them mentioned Seraphine.

Kane was grateful for that. Some wounds did not need fingers poking at them.

His body felt better after the forced sleep. His ribs still ached, and his leg complained every few steps, but the sharp, dizzy weakness was gone.

Physically, he was stronger, emotionally, he felt like someone had scooped out the center o
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  • Another Strange World

    “I need to go,” he said. “I need to find answers. I need to find a way back to Seraphine.” The old woman nodded. “The black tower is where you will find more truth,” she said gently. “But be careful, child. The dead walk that path and the grey man waits for every new Kane.” Kane stepped out of the small warm house into the cold grey world. The ash-colored sky pressed down on him. The air still tasted like old smoke. He looked toward the tall black tower in the distance. It looked like a shadow that had grown too tall. It made him feel goose bumps just looking at it. He started walking.Every step felt heavy– the grey dust stuck to his boots. He kept thinking about the stories the old woman told him. The First Kane who trusted too much, the Fourth Kane who begged for his love and lost her and the Ninth Kane who turned on his Seraphine. All of them failed–all of them looked like him. “I don't know how they came about but all I know is I will not be like them,” he whispered to himsel

  • Tales Of The Nine

    Kane wanted to understand what was going on. “Let me tell you about them,” she said softly. “One by one so you understand what you are facing.” The first drawing was a boy who looked exactly like him. He stood in front of a black mirror with his hand reaching out. His eyes were full of hope. “That was the First Kane,” the old woman said. “He was a simple grave digger, just like you. When the system woke up inside him, he thought it was a blessing. He believed he could use the power to help people. To stop families from losing their loved ones forever. He grew strong quickly, he raised skeletons, fought the Church knights and met a shadow girl, fell in love. They reached the tomb together–he opened the sarcophagus because he truly believed he was doing something good for the world.” The old woman paused, her voice became sad. “He touched the black heart–Malachar came out and thanked him. The First Kane was so happy. He thought they would build a better world together, but Malachar

  • Is This A Dream??

    Kane woke up on something hard and cold, a stone his head laid on like it was a pillow. He had forgotten what warmth felt like a long time ago. For a few seconds, he did not move at all because his body felt heavy, like someone had placed an invisible weight on his chest and shoulders. His head throbbed slowly, every part of him hurt, even breathing felt like work. He opened his eyes slowly. The sky above him was dark, almost like black clouds hovering. It was just empty and dull. He stared at it for a moment, trying to understand where he was and how he got there, but his comprehension abilities felt slow, like they were still waking up.Then it came back, he remembered the black hole, the pull. Seraphine’s hand holding his tightly, Vesper grabbing his other arm. The feeling of everything breaking apart at once. Kane pushed himself up.The moment he moved, pain shot through his ribs and spread across his back like fire. He sucked in a sharp breath and paused, waiting for the pain

  • Exile

    Malachar stood in the middle of the burning village. Flames danced around him like loyal pets. Smoke filled the sky and turned everything grey. Screams echoed from every direction. People ran, but there was nowhere to hide.Kane watched from a distance. His body was hurting. His power was almost gone. He held Seraphine’s hand tightly. She was breathing so fast while Vesper stood on his other side, her crimson eyes glowing.Malachar turned slowly. His golden eyes found Kane across the smoke. He smiled like a father who was disappointed in his son. “You opened the door for me,” Malachar said. His voice carried through the fire. “Now watch what I do with the world you gave me.” Kane felt cold fear in his stomach. He stepped forward. “Stop this,” he shouted. “These people did nothing to you.” Malachar laughed. " I have been released to rule the world.He raised one hand more dead rose from the ground. They moved toward the last houses to destroy them. There were more screams that f

  • Father Prays

    Dorian stood alone in the cold chamber. The others had gone to fight. He looked at the glowing tomb, light moved like water under ice. "Kane," he whispered. "You’re my son, please stay alive." Dorian placed his palm against the stone. His fingers twitched, but he did not pull away.Then it came.Thump, thump.The stone jumped beneath his hand.Dorian froze. His own heart started beating faster. The tomb pulsed again, like something huge turning in its sleep. The mountain was silent, he had a weird feeling that something was awakening.Dorian stepped back. “What did i just feel?” The tomb glowed brighter. A soft mist rose from the carvings on the walls, then a woman made of light appeared–her hair was made of silver mist. Her eyes burned red like fire.Dorian clenched his fists tightly, hoping no one would notice how much his hands were shaking. “If you’re really there,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady, “speak up.”The spirit smiled. “I am Lyra, the Prison Keeper.” “You’re

  • Pandemonium

    Malachar stood at the very edge of the first village, where the dirt path turned into soft grass and the quiet hum of life still pulsed in the air. He did not look excited. He did not look angry. His face was calm, like a man about to do something very ordinary, but what he was about to do was not ordinary at all. Behind him, the ground began to shake. Then, one by one, the earth cracked open. Not in a straight line, but in jagged splits, like broken glass and from those cracks, an army began to rise. They were not alive, they were dead. Old soldiers, farmers, women, children — their bones wrapped in torn clothes, their eyes glowing with a dark red light, like embers in a dying fire. Their skin was dry and cracked. Their mouths did not move when they walked, but they obeyed. Every single one of them turned to look at Malachar, waiting for his command. He did not speak. He only lifted his hand and like a wave crashing on a shore, the army of the dead rushed forward. At first,

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