Beyond Death: the rise of atreya

The passage to the underground chamber was cloaked in shadows, the air growing colder with each step Atreya took. His breaths echoed in the silence, and the faint flicker of his lantern cast ghostly patterns on the damp stone walls.

He gripped the lantern tighter, his pulse quickening as he neared the massive iron doors ahead. They were engraved with intricate symbols, each pulsating faintly with a dull red glow, like a heartbeat. At the center, a prominent mark—an Asura symbol—seemed to watch him, as if alive.

He hesitated for a moment, staring at the door.

"Once you enter, there's no turning back," his father's words echoed in his mind. But Atreya pushed them aside. This was something he had to do.

With trembling hands, he pressed against the cold iron. The doors groaned open, revealing a vast chamber illuminated by a faint purple glow emanating from the center.

There it was.

The sword stood embedded in a pedestal of black stone, its dark blade reflecting the faint light like liquid night. Symbols danced along the hilt and blade, shifting as though alive. Among them, the Asura mark pulsed faintly, waiting.

Atreya approached slowly, his heart pounding. He felt an invisible pressure pushing against him, testing his resolve.

"Take it."

The voice wasn't his own. It came from within the sword, cold and demanding.

Atreya reached out, his fingers brushing against the hilt. A searing pain shot through him, forcing him to stagger back. The sword rejected him, its glow intensifying as if warning him away.

But he gritted his teeth and reached for it again. "I don't care if you reject me," he said, his voice trembling but resolute. "I need you."

His hands wrapped around the hilt, and the chamber roared to life. Purple and black energy surged through the room, the symbols on the sword blazing with light. The Asura mark glowed violently, but it did not accept him—not yet.

The energy threw him back, slamming him into the ground. Pain lanced through his body, but he refused to let go. He crawled forward and gripped the sword again, pulling it from the pedestal.

It felt heavier than the world itself, its weight pressing down on his soul.

"You are unworthy," the voice echoed, colder than before.

"Then I'll become worthy," Atreya snarled, dragging the sword along as he staggered to his feet.

The sword's glow dimmed, the Asura symbol fading. The energy subsided, but the weight of the sword remained. Atreya clutched it tightly, his body trembling from the effort.

"I don't care what you think," he whispered, his voice raw. "You're mine now, whether you like it or not."

---

The Ambush

The chamber doors burst open just as Atreya stepped out, his father's voice ringing out.

"Atreya, run!"

His father, bloodied and battered, stood in the doorway, a sword in one hand and a shield in the other. Behind him, armed intruders poured into the hall, their eyes burning with murderous intent.

Atreya froze, the sword dragging behind him as he took in the scene.

"Move!" his father barked, blocking an attack aimed at Atreya. The force of the blow sent him stumbling back, but he stood firm, shielding his son.

"Dad..." Atreya's voice cracked.

His father turned, his expression softening for the briefest moment. "You have to live, Atreya. You're the only one who can carry on."

Before Atreya could respond, a blade pierced through his father's side. Time seemed to slow as his father turned to him one last time, blood dripping from his lips.

"I was hard on you... because I wanted you to survive. To be stronger than I ever was."

The shield fell from his father's hand as he crumpled to his knees, using the last of his strength to block another attack aimed at Atreya.

"Go," his father whispered, his voice fading. "Live."

Tears streamed down Atreya's face as he stumbled back, clutching the sword. He wanted to fight, to stay, but his father's final command echoed in his mind.

He turned and ran, the sounds of battle fading behind him.

---

Escape

The waterway at the back of the mansion led him into the dense forest. The sword's weight bore down on him, but he refused to let it go.

Collapsing by a tree, he finally allowed himself to cry, clutching the sword to his chest. The Asura mark glowed faintly for a moment before dimming again, as if acknowledging his pain.

In the silence of the forest, Atreya swore to himself.

"I'll become strong. Strong enough to protect what's left. Strong enough to make you accept me."

The sword seemed to hum in response, its dark energy flickering faintly.