Legendary Shadow Blacksmith

"MEGAN, are you sure I need this mask?"

Julian's voice was muffled by the fabric on his, his words barely audible over the bustle of the streets around him. After resting for a few hours, he made his way through the narrow, crowded paths of The Below, tapping his cane rhythmically against the cracked and uneven ground. The city around him felt more alive than Sky Net in ways he hadn't yet fully grasped.

MEGAN had insisted he wear a face mask, citing concerns about pollution, even though they both knew that technology had long since eradicated most of the air quality issues.

"MEGAN…" Julian murmured under his breath, feeling the soft fabric press against his face. The air was already crisp and sterile, thanks to the nanotech filtration systems built into even this part of the city.

[Yes, Julian,] MEGAN responded with a sigh. [I'm sure you need the mask.]

"If... you say so." The sounds of haggling, clanking machinery, and muffled chatter filled his heightened senses. The buildings here were smaller, older, and more worn. People hustled about, always on the move. Despite the lack of visible grime, the area still felt impoverished compared to the sleek, gleaming towers of Sky Net.

[You should've never sold the apartment, Julian,] MEGAN huffed, her voice frustrated. [We had everything up there—space, light, fresh air. Now we're stuck down here because you went and sold it all for some ridiculous—]

"MEGAN, I know," Julian cut her off, his grip on the cane tightening.

[If only you had listened to me,] MEGAN continued, her tone softening slightly, a tinge of worry creeping in. [You were comfortable there. We both were. And now… look at us.]

"I'll be…fine," Julian reassured her, though the hollowness of his words betrayed him. The streets of The Below felt claustrophobic, the air thick with the hum of life—life that was constantly on edge.

[But… I suppose this Otherworld thing you're obsessed with isn't so bad…] MEGAN's tone shifted, her frustration replaced by something new—excitement.

"...And now you're suddenly alright with it?"

[Well, you wouldn't believe it!] MEGAN's voice vibrated with enthusiasm. [I was watching the stream earlier… Julian, there are so many people talking about you! You're practically famous!]

Julian's steps faltered for a moment. He hummed in confusion. "What do you mean, famous?"

[Your adventures, Julian! Everyone saw how you fought those goblins… and how you crafted all those weapons. People are calling you the Sword Junkie!] MEGAN giggled, clearly relishing in the title.

Julian frowned, unsure how to process the information. "Sword Junkie? That's… what they're calling me?"

[Yes! Isn't it hilarious? You're already a legend! They're trying to figure out who you are. You have fans, Julian! Can you believe it?]

Julian's heart raced. Fans? People watching him, dissecting his every move? He felt exposed, like his private sanctuary had been torn open for the world to see. He had always been a craftsman working in solitude. To have people watching him, analyzing his every swing, every decision—it felt suffocating.

"Fans…?" he repeated, his voice tinged with unease.

[It's incredible, Julian!] MEGAN continued, oblivious to his discomfort. [They're calling you the next big thing in Otherworld. The way you fought and crafted those weapons… they've never seen anyone like you before. You're a mystery to them.]

Julian bit his lip. Being a mystery was never his goal. He just wanted to work, to create, to explore. The thought of being watched felt wrong. His movements, his skills—he'd perfected them in the dark, in the quiet of his forge. Now it was all out in the open.

"I… I don't know if I like that," he admitted softly.

[Oh, don't be shy, Julian!] MEGAN teased. [You've got talent, and people are noticing. It's exciting! For once, you're blacksmithing is finally useful now!]

"Hm..." Julian hummed, unsure how to feel about any of this. "I didn't do any of this for attention, MEGAN. I just wanted to make weapons and see the world."

[Well, the world is seeing you now,] MEGAN replied with a knowing edge. [And they're loving every minute of it. Well, some are hating, but don't worry… as soon as I recover my account, they're dead.]

"Famous..." Julian whispered. The word felt strange on his tongue, "...Me?"

***

As Julian stood at the edge of the street with a bag of groceries already in hand; he waited for the light to change, the unfamiliar hum of The Below wrapped around him—the voices of vendors, the clatter of distant machinery, and the muffled footsteps of passersby. MEGAN's voice continued to buzz in his ear, excited about the growing attention he was receiving in Otherworld.

Then, a nearby news broadcast caught his attention.

[Breaking News: Daemon Attack in Southeast Asia! A horde of Daemons has breached the protective walls of Jakarta, causing mass devastation. The military has been dispatched, but the situation remains dire…]

Julian froze, his heart skipping a beat. Daemons. Even in this advanced world, the mere mention of Daemons sent shivers down his spine. He tightened his grip on his cane, his senses heightened as they always were in moments like these… because it was the only thing he could do.

"...Daemons?" Julian whispered, his breath catching in his throat.

[Julian, don't worry about it. It's far away. We're safe,] MEGAN reassured him, her tone shifting to one of concern, [There is no–]

"Hm!?" But then, all of a sudden, Julian felt something crawl on the back of his neck – and then, out of nowhere, a scream pierced through the usual noise of the streets.

"Help! A Daemon! There's a Daemon here!"

Julian's pulse quickened as the ground beneath him trembled. He could feel the vibrations rippling through the pavement, each one stronger and more pronounced than the last. Panic surged around him as people scrambled, their footsteps erratic, their voices desperate.

[A Daemon, here!?] MEGAN's voice screamed in his head, her panic mirroring the chaos around him. [Get out of there NOW!]

But Julian didn't move. His feet remained rooted to the ground, his senses sharpening as they honed in on the vibrations. He could feel it—heavy, deliberate footsteps, much larger than anything else in the vicinity. The ground rumbled beneath him, and with each step, the creature drew closer.

"I'm… not running," Julian murmured, his voice low and steady.

[Are you stupid!? You're not in Otherworld, Julian! RUN!]

"No…" Julian grunted as the air around him thickened, the oppressive weight of the Daemon bearing down on him. The roars, the screams of people fleeing—it all became background noise to the steady rhythm of his pulse.

He could feel it—heavy, deliberate footsteps. The ground trembled beneath his feet as the beast drew closer, each step more distinct than the last. He could hear it, the grotesque, guttural breathing that sent chills down his spine.

Daemons – the creatures who killed his parents.

"I'm… not running," he murmured under his breath.

[Julian… we've already established that you're stupid, you don't need to prove it!] MEGAN's voice shrieked in his head, the panic in her tone unmistakable. [Get out of there NOW!]

"No…" Julian's feet remained planted, his pulse steadying even as the world around him seemed to descend into chaos.

[Julian, please. Don't do this.] MEGAN's voice trembled for the first time, laced with something that almost sounded like… fear.

[I… don't want to lose you.]

The unmistakable terror in the voices of people fleeing past him rushed through his ears. His heightened senses, sharp from a lifetime of navigating in darkness, and now even more enhanced due to the fact that he received his clone's abilities, told him exactly what was happening—the crowd scattered like ants, frantically sprinting away from the growing danger.

And yet, Julian stood still.

"...You're not going to lose me," he whispered, his voice low but resolute.

[Julian, you can't fight a Daemon! You're not in Otherworld right now!] MEGAN's voice trembled with fear, but Julian wasn't listening, [Even if you were, that's not a goblin! Damn it! Listen!]

"I… am listening." Julian tilted his head as he could feel the Daemon approaching, its presence dark and oppressive, making the air around him thick with tension.

[Julian, the Daemon is 12 seconds away. It's moving fast!]

Julian's fingers tightened around the cane, the weight of it suddenly heavier in his hand.

He remembered his father's words, years ago, when the cane had first been handed to him—

–'When the time comes… you'll know.'

Julian raised the cane in front of him with both hands–his fingers slid over the familiar grooves of the cane's handle. The weight shifted in his hand, heavier, colder. With a deliberate twist, he felt the something metal sliding free, the sharp hiss filling the air around him. The cane—his unassuming, everyday guide—revealed its true form.

A rapier.

[MEGAN…

…Guide me.]

[Fuck! Fine!] MEGAN screamed, [Duck!]

And once again, with a blade in his hand…

…Julian's entire demeanor changed.

"Let's fucking go!"