SSS Unknown: Dark Knight's Legacy

"Your master is back."

With a firm grip on the hilt of the sword, every suppressed emotion—every searing pain, every scar etched upon his body and soul—flooded into Unknown all at once. 

The weight of his struggles bore down on him like an unrelenting storm. Memories of bloodshed, betrayal, and his relentless pursuit of power danced behind his eyes, threatening to consume him.

Yet, Unknown did not falter. His yearning for the sword, the singular force driving him forward, eclipsed all those feelings. This was not a moment for weakness; it was one for unyielding resolve.

Suddenly, thorns erupted from the hilt, piercing into his flesh with a brutal intensity. Blood welled from his hand, streaming down in thick, crimson rivulets. 

Yet, he neither cried out nor loosened his grip. The agony was sharp, but his determination burned hotter, stronger than any pain could extinguish.

The sword, as if sentient, began to react. It pulsed in his grasp, alive with a dark and insidious energy. It absorbed every drop of his blood, every fragment of magic coursing through his veins. 

The very essence of his being was drawn into the blade, as if it demanded to consume him completely.

Before his eyes, the weapon began to transform. The once-polished blade contorted, taking on the appearance of twisted bone, veins of fresh blood running along its length, and pulsating sinew. 

Its grotesque beauty was a testament to its power. Despite the sword's metamorphosis, the ruby-red eye embedded in the hilt remained unaltered, its unblinking gaze fixed on him, a silent witness to his resolve.

"I, an unknown being, command you to become mine, oh [Sword of Desire—Eclipse]."

His voice rang out, steady and resolute, each word brimming with authority and desperation. With every syllable, more of his blood and magic surged into the sword, the bond between them deepening. He could feel fragments of his very soul being stripped away, merging with the weapon in an irreversible union.

As if in acknowledgment, the crimson eye slowly closed, a signal of acceptance. The overpowering energy in the air grew still, heavy with the weight of their connection.

And then, with a final, defiant pull, Unknown wrenched the sword free from the mountain of corpses. The sound of ripping flesh and cracking bone echoed through the cavern as he raised the blade high. Its weight was immense, not just in physical form but in the burden it now represented.

The blade pulsed, and ethereal inscriptions flared to life along its length:

[Authorised]

[Sword of Desire—Eclipse]

[Login—Leonore Kylian]

[Confirm]

At that moment, the soul-binding connection between Unknown and the Eclipse Sword was sealed. The bond was absolute, an eternal pact between man and weapon.

Unknown gazed at the sword, its grotesque form now a part of him. The name "Leonore Kylian" resonated in his mind, a haunting echo of an identity tied to the weapon's past.

But those questions could wait. For now, one thing was certain—the Eclipse Sword was his, and with it, he would carve his path through the unforgiving world.

***

***

***

"Master, wake up now. You've slept long enough."

The voice was soft yet commanding, pulling him out of the haze of sleep. He blinked slowly, the world coming into focus.

"...Eclipse?" he murmured, his tone tinged with both familiarity and weariness.

"This is the final day, remember?" her voice chimed again, filled with both urgency and an underlying hint of concern. "You haven't forgotten, have you?"

"Of course not. How could I?" His lips curled into a faint, wistful smile. "Today's the day the world finally finds peace."

Seated on his grand throne, the hero tilted his gaze upward, looking at the clear, unblemished sky above. His grand plan, years in the making, had reached its final act. Victory was within his grasp. By all accounts, he should have felt triumph, elation even.

And yet, deep within his chest, an aching hollowness consumed him.

'So why do I feel so empty inside?'

"Master, are you alright?" Eclipse's voice cut through his thoughts, her concern unmistakable.

Turning his gaze to her, he forced a gentle smile, one that he hoped would ease her worries. "I'm fine," he said softly, though the gnawing discomfort inside him betrayed his words.

She wasn't convinced. She never was.

"Eclipse," he began, his voice quieter now, "I'm sorry, but... this will probably be our last journey together."

Her ruby-red eyes widened at his words, and for a moment, the ever-cheerful light in them dimmed. She was silent, processing his admission. Then, with a voice that trembled only slightly, she spoke.

"...Master, I've known that for a long time. Wasn't everything you prepared for meant to lead to this very day?"

As she spoke, her form began to shift before his eyes. No longer just a sword, Eclipse stood before him in the guise of a young woman—beautiful and ethereal, with flowing hair as white as snow and eyes as vivid and red as the gemstone embedded in her hilt. Her presence was radiant, yet there was a fragile vulnerability about her that tugged at his heart.

Without hesitation, she stepped closer, the soft sound of her bare feet against the stone floor breaking the heavy silence. Gently, she perched herself on his lap, her cheeks puffed in an almost childlike display of irritation.

"I understand you better than you understand yourself, Master!" she declared, her tone both teasing and firm. "That's why I'm the only one who will follow you to the very end of this road."

Her cheerful bravado faltered, her voice growing softer, more fragile. A bittersweet edge crept in, cracking the veneer of her usual composure.

"...But, Master, I don't want to lose you."

Her ruby eyes glistened as tears began to fall, streaking down her porcelain cheeks and soaking the delicate fabric of her pristine white dress. The weight of her emotions pressed heavily on both of them.

Seeing her like this, so vulnerable and sincere, he felt his chest tighten. Without a word, he cupped her face in his hands, his calloused fingers brushing away her tears. His touch was gentle, reverent, as though she might break if he wasn't careful.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Her lips trembled, but she leaned into his touch, as if seeking solace in the warmth of his hands. For a long moment, neither spoke, the silence between them filled with unspoken emotions and the inevitability of what was to come.

The hero and the sword, bound by a connection deeper than mere utility, sat together on the precipice of fate. Their journey, their bond, was nearing its end. And though they both knew the path forward could not be altered, neither wanted to let go.

But, it has to go.

"Once I've made up my mind, there's no changing it."

Leonore's voice was calm, yet beneath it lay an ocean of sorrow.

"But!" Eclipse cried out, desperation cracking through her tone. "Master, you'll die!"

She had always known this outcome. From the very moment he had conceived his audacious plan to end the cycle of suffering, death had been an inevitability—a price he was prepared to pay.

Yet, Leonore felt no sadness.

"One day, we'll meet again," he said softly, his voice steady with conviction. His gaze met hers, filled with an affection that transcended words. "When that day comes, I hope we won't have to go through this again."

He reached out, his calloused hand trembling slightly as it brushed a single tear from her ethereal face. "I love you, Eclipse," he said softly, his voice carrying the weight of every unspoken emotion that had passed between them.

Her ruby-red eyes widened in shock, shimmering with a cascade of emotions too profound for words.

"...Master..."

Her voice, fragile and trembling, barely formed the word before the inevitable happened. With a heavy heart, Leonore severed their connection.

In that instant, the bond they had shared—one forged through countless battles and unwavering trust—was shattered. The mental link that had allowed them to understand one another without words dissolved into silence, leaving behind only an aching void.

It was an act of mercy, sparing her the pain of witnessing what he was about to do.

Today marked the culmination of everything he had worked toward—the final stage of his plan, a plan to shatter the old world and forge a new order.

He, Leonore Kylian, would wield the unimaginable power of the Sword of Desire—Eclipse to rewrite the course of history.

The cost, however, was staggering.

Millions would perish as a result of his actions. Entire cities would be razed to the ground. Innocent lives would be snuffed out like candle flames.

Yet for Leonore, there was no other way.

Change, true and lasting change, demanded sacrifices so great that only someone willing to bear the mantle of a monster could enact it.

And that someone was him.

"Two million lives to ensure the survival of this world..."

He murmured the words as if to convince himself.

No matter how noble the cause, the price was incomprehensible. If there had been any alternative, any other path, Leonore would have taken it in a heartbeat. But the bitter truth was there was none.

Even if the world came to despise him, even if history remembered him as the greatest villain to ever live—it didn't matter.

'This is my conviction,' he thought, his resolve unshakable.

Clenching his fists, he gazed up at the endless azure sky. The mountain of corpses beneath his feet seemed to echo the weight of his decision, a grim monument to the price of his ideals.

A gentle smile graced his lips, soft and fleeting.

"Thank you, Eclipse. Thank you, everyone."

"Please... remember me."

With those final words, Leonore activated the full power of the Sword of Desire—Eclipse.

A blinding light erupted, consuming everything in its wake.

The villain who dared to defy the natural order, the man who sought to reshape the world, paid the ultimate price. His life, and the lives of two million innocent souls, were offered up on the altar of his ambition.

In the end, Leonore Kylian was neither a hero nor a villain. He was simply a man who shouldered the weight of his ideals, carrying them to their bitter and inevitable conclusion.