Lord of Shadows: Rise of the Grand Talisman

Julius froze. The voice—deep, eerie, suffocating—wrapped around his throat like an invisible noose. His breath hitched, his body refused to move. He forced himself to think. Whose voice is this? He was alone in the grand hall. Only the silent, lifeless statues surrounded him.

The Hall of the Forgotten Kings… What is this place?

For the first time in his life, Julius felt true, paralyzing terror.

Then, the voice spoke again. "Do not be afraid. Come forward—we have little time, Julius… or should I call you Elias? Or perhaps, Lucas?"

Julius's mind shattered. His eyes widened in horror. What?! His own scream echoed through the vast chamber. This… this is impossible! How does it know?

His thoughts spiraled. Was this… the darkness? The same force he had failed to seal away when he was Elias? A nightmare that had slipped through the cracks of his past?

His breathing was ragged, but he clenched his fists. Fear would not control him. Swallowing his panic, he forced his trembling legs to descend the steps. The throne room expanded before him—an enormous, majestic void that stretched endlessly. The sheer scale of it made his stomach churn.

Only now did he grasp the true grandeur of the throne. This was no mere seat of power. This was the throne of a god.

A few more steps. Then a few more. Each movement weighed upon him, as though unseen eyes bore into his very soul. The statues loomed ahead, frozen in their eternal vigil. His gaze flickered between them, searching, scanning—Where? The voice had come from somewhere within this silent mausoleum.

Seconds passed. Then—

"Boy, do you not see me?"

Julius's breath hitched. His skin crawled.

The statue…

The massive stone figure seated upon the throne had changed. Its once-dead, empty eyes now glowed with an eerie, unnatural light—alive, intelligent, watching.

Julius's chest tightened. What kind of nightmare have I walked into? The pressure exuding from the figure was suffocating, like a mountain pressing against his ribs.

Then, the statue spoke again. "I am the Shadow King."

Julius's throat went dry. He forced the words out. "The… Shadow King?"

The statue's voice was steady, deep, unshakable. "I have been with you from the beginning. The whispers you have heard… they were mine."

Julius's mind reeled. He staggered back. The whispers…? Those faint murmurs that had haunted him, that had gnawed at the edges of his consciousness…

He gritted his teeth, forcing down the bile rising in his throat. "Why? Why have you been whispering to me?"

The Shadow King's answer was cold. "Because we share an enemy."

Julius stiffened. His thoughts raced. An enemy…?

A single name burned into his mind. The only thing that made sense. His body tensed as he uttered it aloud, voice trembling.

"The Darkness?"

A heavy silence.

Then—

"Yes." The Shadow King's voice rumbled with barely contained fury.

Julius's heart pounded in his ears. He couldn't stop the next question from slipping past his lips. "Why? Why does the Darkness want to destroy me? And why is it your enemy?"

The Shadow King let out a hollow, humorless chuckle. "Because you do not belong to this world. You were dragged here by mistake… a mistake caused by the Dark King."

Julius felt his blood run cold. His fingers curled into fists.

The Dark King…

His mind whirled, connecting pieces that didn't fit. I was brought here… by a mistake? That meant… I was never meant to be here?

A bitter laugh escaped his lips. A mistake. His entire existence in this world—this body, this life—it was all a mistake?

And then another thought struck him like a blade to the chest. What did he mean by 'we were deceived and trapped here'…?

Julius inhaled sharply. His voice came out raw, desperate. "Then why? Why did the Dark King bring me here? What does he want from me?!"

The Shadow King's voice was filled with ancient hatred. "He sought immortality. His greed led him to reach beyond what was forbidden."

The glow in the statue's eyes began to fade.

"Julius… I have waited for countless decades. I am already dead."

A wave of shock slammed into Julius.

"I sealed a fragment of my life force away… to speak to you now. My power, along with the power of the other kings, remains bound within these statues. It is a power the Dark King feared. You must take it… and use it to stop him."

Julius's pulse thundered in his ears. His thoughts spiraled. He's dead?

And… the other kings?

What power?

His fingers twitched. He could feel it—a shift in the air, something beyond his understanding.

His voice cracked as he demanded, "What do you mean, 'use the power'?"

The Shadow King's light flickered. His voice, now barely a whisper, carried a weight that sent chills down Julius's spine.

"We were gods to the people of this world. Those who prayed in our names… their prayers were heard."

A flicker of sorrow laced his final words.

"I am Sharun, the Shadow King… Ah, how I wish we had more time… my successor."

Julius lunged forward. "Wait! I still have questions! You can't just—"

But it was too late. The light in Sharun's eyes vanished.

The throne room fell into silence.

A storm of questions tore through Julius's mind. Who was the Shadow King? Who were the other kings? Why did the Dark King imprison them here? And why did he bring me to this world?

His teeth clenched. Rage coiled in his chest.

The Dark King…

He had done this to him. He had taken his life, his identity, his very existence, and twisted it into something else. Why?

His vision blurred with fury. Immortality…? Was that the reason?

Julius exhaled sharply, steadying himself. There was no time to drown in questions. The answers would come later. For now, he needed to prepare.

His thoughts snapped back to the words of the Shadow King. He sealed his power inside these statues…

Julius turned, scanning the other stone figures. His breath hitched. Were these the other kings?

A deep unease settled in his gut. If Sharun alone had such an overwhelming presence, then…

His hands curled into fists.

Just how powerful was the Dark King… to imprison them all?

The weight of it pressed down on him, suffocating. But more than fear, there was anger.

The Dark King… he did something unforgivable. He locked them away for decades, let them waste away into nothingness. And for what? His own greed? His own selfish pursuit of power?

Julius inhaled sharply. His fury burned hotter. Someone has to put an end to this.

A sharp sting jolted his hand.

"Tch—!" He hissed, glancing down.

The strange symbol on his skin glowed, pulsing with heat.

Then, whispers. Faint, unintelligible murmurs.

Julius's head snapped upward.

Amid the countless stars painted on the ceiling, one shone brighter than the rest.

His feet moved on their own, climbing the steps once more. The whispers grew clearer.

Each step sent a fresh wave of pain through his arm, but he pressed on.

At last, standing before the throne, the whisper finally formed into words. A child's voice.

"Shadow King Sharun… I am your faithful believer. Please… save my father from the prison."

Julius's breath caught in his throat.

A believer…?

His blood turned to ice.

His mind whispered the truth before he could deny it.

"He… wants me to take the Shadow King's place…?"