The era when the God of Darkness was alive and ruling the Kingdom was one of true tyranny, spreading fear among the people. A ruthless despot, he killed anyone who displeased him, feeding them to the Underworld dogs, torturing them, or burning them alive. He even killed without reason, making him the most feared entity in the land.

  The only reason he descended from Orphion, the world of Gods, was sheer boredom, deciding to waste his time in the human world. For many years and generations, he reigned over the Fallen Kingdom.

  Ten individuals, considered heroes, stood up and swore before the people that they would end the reign of the tyrant god.

  They spent more than five years planning his downfall. These heroes were so powerful that, with the protection of Goddess Alkia—the Goddes of Life, who had also grown weary of the tyrant’s cruelty—they succeeded in defeating the God of Darkness.

  The ten heroes became immortalized in history textbooks. As a reward for saving the Kingdom and its people, they were granted the gift of immortality. However, after the battle, a rumor spread: killing the tyrant god had cursed the heroes with misfortune. They were never seen again.

  It's been a thousand years since then which means the person in front of them has been staying at the Valleys of the Unknown since the Empire's creation and after the Obsidian Reign.

  "But why did you separate us? We also trespassed on your territory, so why is Callista the only one in there?" Anastasia asked, confused.

  "That child has a large amount of dark magic in her," Hoshi replied simply.

  "Are... Are you saying Callista uses dark magic?" Ivan asked, displeased by what he heard. Hoshi turned to him and shrugged. "Why are you asking me? She's your friend, not mine," he said, glancing back at Callista, who was slowly waking up. The group was taken aback by the revelation.

  "It's normal for darkness to attract darkness," Hoshi explained. "But that doesn't mean she's a dark magic user. It could also mean she's in great pain, harboring negative energy within her. That's how dark users grow stronger—through negative emotions."

  Hoshi gave a bitter smile as he added, "We never truly know the kind of pain someone carries in their lifetime."

  ---

  Callista awoke with a pounding headache, wincing as her vision adjusted to the light. She quickly realized her surroundings felt disturbingly familiar, filling her with a sense of dread.

  "Wendy," she weakly called out.

  "This valley I created shows people the illusions they fear most," Hoshi stated with a smirk, observing her from a distance. "Their pain takes shape here. Isn’t it fascinating to see a villain weakened by their own suffering?"

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  Callista frowned when Wendy didn’t appear, her suspicions confirming what this was—an illusion. But what kind? That remained unclear.

  An illusion works like a mirror, reflecting a similar image but often revealing a darker side. It meant Wendy could be trapped on the other side, separated by this fog—a barrier shutting out the real world.

  To escape, she needed to find the illusion’s creator. However, the problem was clear: he was likely already watching her from beyond the barriers. She sighed in frustration.

  'But why am I here?' she wondered.

  A sudden shift in the air made her look back, and her breath hitched when she saw a familiar house—her home before arriving at the Academy. The front door creaked open, and a beautiful woman with maroon hair stepped out.

  "Who is she?" Anastasia muttered from outside, staring at Callista’s frozen expression.

  "A witch?" Hoshi responded casually.

  "How do you know she’s a witch?" Anastasia asked.

  "Look at her hand, Ana," Ignis said. Anastasia noticed a rune on the woman’s palm.

  "Witches are known to age more slowly than other magic users," Denovan added.

  Callista’s indifferent gaze met the woman’s orange eyes. "Child, why are you standing there?" the woman asked in a voice Callista knew all too well.

  "Grandma..." she whispered, her voice trembling.

  The woman smiled softly, her face devoid of any signs of aging as she approached. Callista felt her breath catch in her throat as the woman drew closer.

  "Child, why are you out here?" she asked, gently caressing Callista’s cheek.

  "You’re not my grandma. Let go of me," Callista said, her voice firm as she glared up at her. The woman’s smile faded, replaced by a cold, penetrating stare.

  "I see. You hate Grandma, don’t you, darling?" she said, her tone laced with mock sadness. "Is that why you wanted me dead?"

  The group outside froze in shock at the accusation.

  Before Callista could respond, the woman grabbed her throat and began pushing her backward. Callista stumbled but was forced to keep moving. Tears blurred her vision, then turned to blood streaming from her eyes.

  "Grandma loves you, but why did you kill me?!" the woman screamed, her voice echoing in Callista’s ears.

  She was suddenly pushed hard.

  Her back hit something, making her wince. Callista’s eyes remained shut as she tried to calm herself down from the overwhelming situation.

  Her heart pounded loudly in her chest as she sat on the ground, panting. She noticed that the grassy ground had been replaced by a marble floor.

  When she looked up, she found herself in a dimly lit room. The flickering fireplace crackled softly, breaking the silence. Again, another familiar place. She stood up, dusting off her pants, and began looking around.

  This was her room when she was eleven—a fitting space for a young lady in a middle family. Though not particularly large, it was cozy enough to hold a bed, mirror, closet, and other belongings a child might have.

  “Young Miss?”

  She quickly turned toward the door as a woman entered the room. The sight of her caught Callista off guard, and she let out a scoff.

  Now she understood what this illusion was trying to show her—and she had to admit, it was beginning to irritate her.

  “Delia,” she muttered the name under her breath. The woman smiled warmly in response.

  “Just woke up? You should get some rest,” Delia said with a fond smile.

  “Can you leave now?” Callista asked curtly. Delia froze, stunned.

  “What...? Young Miss, did I do something wrong? Why are you angry at me?” Worry and sadness were evident in her expression as she took a few cautious steps forward.

  “I never complained, Young Miss, and yet you’re angry at me like this! I would accept anything you give me, but why? Why did you do this to me?”

  Her appearance began to change drastically—half of her face revealed horrific burn marks, and a knife protruded from her chest, blood staining her clothes with every step she took.

  “Why...?! Why did you kill me?!” Delia shrieked, tears streaming down her face.

  “Why do all the people shown look like this?” Anastasia asked in horror, staring at Callista’s cold expression. Despite her detached demeanor, Callista’s eyes had grown clearer.

  “It’s either her guilt or regret,” Hoshi answered.

  “Are you saying she killed them?” Denovan questioned, narrowing his eyes.

  “How would I know?” Hoshi replied, his gaze fixed on Callista. “I can only show people what’s within them. The truth is theirs to reveal.”

  “YOUNG MISS!”

  Delia’s piercing shriek was deafening, forcing everyone to cover their ears. Callista instinctively closed her eyes and clasped her hands over her ears, trying to block out the sound.

  She hated this. She hated it so much.

  Why were all the memories she wanted to bury being dragged to the surface? Why couldn’t they just leave her alone?