Codex: Ascendancy

It was a rainy night. The illuminating silver light of the Moon had dimmed, struggling to pierce through the stormy clouds. Berlin wept beneath the tempest. Thunder cracked sharply, drowning out the rhythmic sound of raindrops hitting the rooftops. Puddles formed as the rain continued its relentless assault.

On those rooftops, a shadow moved—a figure cloaked in black, sprinting through the downpour.

The figure wore a midnight-black coat, its armor blending seamlessly into the darkness, and a sword hung at its side. Its heavy footsteps echoed faintly, and its labored breaths were audible even in the storm. It ran and ran—until it came to an abrupt halt. Before it lay the river Spree.

The end of the road.

The figure stood there, breathing heavily, rain cascading down its coat. The sound of water striking the pavement was soothing, almost hypnotic, until it was interrupted by the approach of footsteps. The number was uncertain—ten, maybe twenty. The figure couldn't tell.

"You know the price of betrayal, old friend…" a voice spoke behind the figure. It was angelic in tone, but laced with indifference.

"…Better than anyone," the figure replied calmly, not bothering to turn toward the source of the voice.

Another flash of lightning illuminated the scene. The figure's face was revealed—a young man, likely in his early twenties, with jet-black hair and piercing green eyes.

"Then you must know what comes next, Roland," the voice continued, cold and detached. The name echoed in the rain—Roland.

"I'm no fool," Roland responded. "Kyros' plan will devastate Europe's political, social, and economic systems."

"And why does that matter? To you, or to me? We're murderers. If everything falls apart, you know as well as I do that God has a place in Hell reserved for us."

"Spare me the insufferable attempts at persuasion," Roland snapped. "I'm not in the mood to be swayed by lies tonight."

As the words left his lips, a sharp pain shot through his body. Blood trickled from his mouth, falling to the ground and mingling with the rain. He glanced down to see a blade protruding from his chest.

"You were one of the few people I could entrust my family to, Roland," the voice admitted.

The speaker remained motionless as the blade was withdrawn, revealing that an unseen assailant had landed the fatal blow. Roland staggered, his strength waning. He dropped to his knees, just inches from the freezing waters of the Spree.

"Those were the last words my father said to you," the man behind him added.

Roland felt a sharp kick to his back, sending him plummeting toward the icy embrace of the river.

Ah, verdammt… The one time I refuse to be used as a pawn, I'm executed on the spot.

Regret filled his mind as he fell, drowning in thoughts of what might have been. His life, his struggles, his pain—had they all been meaningless? Was he destined to be just another casualty in the endless war fueled by greed and ambition?

No.

His thoughts quieted as the water engulfed him. Submerged in the river, Roland's body grew numb from the cold, and his wound throbbed with unbearable pain. Yet, his eyes fluttered open, catching a faint silver light breaking through the darkness.

What am I doing? I don't want to die… I want to live!

A surge of power coursed through his body, banishing the pain and restoring sensation to his limbs. Gritting his teeth, Roland swam upward, his will to survive reignited. As he ascended, a crimson light burst into existence before him, illuminating the depths of the Spree.

<Awakened found!>

The light formed a holographic window, translucent enough for Roland to see as he swam.

Breaking through the surface of the water, Roland gasped for air and dragged himself onto a nearby dock. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, but as the timer on his skill ran out, the pain returned in full force, rendering him motionless.

Ugh…! I was getting used to that numbness. But no matter. God hasn't abandoned me yet… My Codex appeared just in time.

The Codex—an innate set of abilities imprinted on the soul. It could awaken at any moment, granting extraordinary powers, from summoning weapons to bending the elements. For Roland, it had saved his life, but unless help arrived soon, it would mean nothing.

As he lay there, drenched and gasping for breath, he felt something prodding his head. He opened his eyes to see an elderly man holding a cane.

"Glad to see you're alive, young man," the old man said, his British accent distinct.

"Thank you, sir. Please… call for an ambulance," Roland pleaded weakly.

The man nodded, smiling as the distant wail of sirens grew louder. The ambulance arrived moments later, whisking Roland away to safety. But even as he was carried from the battlefield, one thing was clear.

His war had only just begun.