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墨書 Inktalez
On the evening of the sixth day, the dark clouds had thinned, and Garen's power stirred within him.
He sat atop the last remaining peak, seemingly oblivious to the gradual disintegration of the surroundings. His gaze remained fixed on the red sun at the horizon, as the sunset poured in from the west, casting a crimson hue over the slanted rays. On the opposite side, a bright crescent moon began to rise.
The brilliant starlight and the scarlet sunset intertwined beautifully.
It was truly a magnificent sunset.
At the moment the sun dipped below the horizon, starlight spread across all of Ahn'Qiraj, illuminating the dancing lines like a dream come to life.
Garen ceased his forward motion, silently sitting there, watching as the sky deepened into darkness, only to be pierced by a white aurora at dawn. Then, as the stars and moon faded away, a brand new red sun rose.
The seventh day arrived just like that. If Garen's judgment was correct, this should be the last day before Ahn'Qiraj vanished. Yet Garen remained still, continuing to sit in silence.
Sunset, sunrise.
Day and night alternated, and the cycle of sun and moon continued. This was one of the most ordinary and common sights in the world, much like the young man selling newspapers on Roland Street who would knock on your door at the same time every day... Yet it was this simple scene that so many overlooked. People often delayed what was easily attainable and seemingly effortless while striving for things that appeared significantly meaningful.
Garen was one of them; when he truly reflected on it, he had only witnessed three complete cycles of day and night.
The first time was when he entered Demacia Military Academy; after Javon collapsed from laziness and was punished with standing in place, he witnessed Demacia's dawn on the training grounds.
The second time was when he led the Fearless Vanguard Legion to a crushing victory over Noxus's Resser Defense Legion, fighting from dusk until deep into night. At the moment victory was declared, Garen looked up to see the rising sun.
The third time was now.
This struck Garen as somewhat strange. Yes, the cycles of day and night in the sky and indeed across the entire world had never changed; they had been repeating since time immemorial. Yet those living here always felt changes coming from all directions.
No, this change does not come from age. Everyone goes through childhood, adolescence, youth, middle age, and old age; it seems like a continuous and irreversible transformation, but in reality, it is precisely a form of unchanging. From the moment the first life was born, this cycle has existed, later named fate.
When viewing the world this way, it feels as if everything is predetermined and unchanging.
So what is it that changes?
Garen fell silent for a moment, and slowly the answer emerged in his heart: human hearts.
Indeed, there are two things in this world that cannot be looked at directly: the sun and the human heart. What changes is always just the human heart.
This answer was what Garen had gathered during his seven days of wandering.
In these few short days, he had witnessed greed, witnessed slaughter, witnessed helplessness, witnessed disappointment, witnessed sadness, witnessed loneliness, and witnessed regret...
These were merely what Garen encountered; there were many more emotions he did not touch upon, such as jealousy, anger, despair, Abomination, hatred...
And at their core, all these emotions stemmed from the human heart.
As Garen pondered this, a dark figure slowly approached and sat down on a nearby stone.
"This stone is about to disappear; let's find another place," Garen said without turning his head.
The dark figure paused for a moment before getting up and moving to a larger stone. Just as he left the previous stone, it suddenly shattered into pieces that flew upward in a dotted line...
"You seem completely unfazed by my arrival," the person said while stroking his chin with a distant yet clear voice.
Garen shook his head. "Surprise serves no purpose."
Eternal Cataclysm is approaching, and at this moment, any change that occurs is meaningless. For this world will ultimately become like Ahn'Qiraj, fragmented into disconnected dotted lines.
"You are quite right. But forgive me for saying, you are not someone who easily admits defeat," the man said with a smile, his tone reminiscent of an old friend reuniting with Garen after many years, devoid of any awkwardness.
Yet in reality, Garen had never seen this man before.
"Of course, Demacia never gives up," Garen replied after a moment of silence. "But unfortunately, this world has long since surrendered."
"Really?" The man blinked and said, "In truth, the world has always been this way. Do you think these negative emotions stem from Eternity, so the world, heavily eroded, has given up?"
Garen did not respond but instead cast his gaze for the first time.
The man wore a vintage black coat, his long black hair flowing in the wind. A carefree smile graced his face, but the two strands of white hair at his temples betrayed him... he was not a young man; one could even say he was quite old.
At that moment, the man pointed down the mountain.
What is most abundant at the bottom of Dead Man's Gorge? Undoubtedly, it is corpses.
"Look... people cannot naturally die of old age, so they harbor resentment or give birth to Undead Entities," the man said. "And those who kill them, regardless of their reasons, engage in slaughter at that moment. Some do it for faith, but a significant portion do it out of greed or jealousy."
Garen suddenly froze as if lost in thought.
"It's not just that. When someone steals your wallet in the market, you feel anger. When something you cherish is destroyed, you feel sorrow. When something you eagerly anticipate does not come to pass, you feel disappointment..."
The man paused and sighed. "Look around; this world emits negative and evil emotions every moment. Usually, you cannot see or perceive them, but if one day they gather together, the horror will be unimaginable."
"That will corrode the entire world."
Garen squinted, truly focusing on the man before him.
However, the man in black seemed unfazed by Garen's scrutiny. He smiled and said, "So what you said is not entirely wrong, but it's not completely correct either."
"It is not Eternity that has eroded the world with these negative evils, for even Eternity cannot create such negative, sinful emotions. So to be more precise..."
Garen quietly closed his eyes and stated, "It is the ugliness of the human heart that has created Eternity."
"Correct," the man in black nodded, speaking softly. "Time is always the sharpest knife; it can make one forget pain, but it can also make you forget your original intentions and kindness."
Garen strongly agreed with this sentiment. In the war-torn era of Chaos, everyone hoped for a just hero to emerge. Yet in the peaceful times of ceasefire, justice and bravery were often dismissed as clichés, met with skepticism.
But clearly, this was not the time to discuss such matters.
"You didn't come here just to tell me this," Garen observed, looking at him intently. "Can you tell me your name?"
The man in black smiled and replied, "Kassirua Sugrino Mont Starlight."
Garen shook his head. "Perhaps I should address you differently."
"Respectfully, Your Majesty Agra Anan."
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