Kofi’s breath came in short, ragged bursts. His muscles trembled, his body still reeling from the fight. But beneath the exhaustion, there was something else.

  Power.

  It wasn’t overwhelming—not yet—but it was there, simmering just beneath his skin, like embers waiting to ignite. His senses felt sharper, his limbs lighter, his mind clearer. He clenched his fist, feeling an unfamiliar warmth pulsing in his veins.

  "You feel it, don't you?" the Obsidian Spirit’s voice slithered through his mind. "The first spark of your awakening."

  Kofi ignored the voice and focused on himself. What had changed?

  He lifted his sword experimentally. Before, it had felt like dead weight in his grip—now, it felt like an extension of himself, the balance perfect, the blade humming with energy he didn’t understand.

  His instincts told him to test it. He glanced around, spotting a jagged piece of stone lying nearby.

  Without thinking, he swung the sword in a downward arc.

  The blade sliced through the rock like paper.

  Kofi’s eyes widened. He hadn’t even used much strength. His control over the weapon had improved, his reflexes sharper. Was this what real Hunters felt like?

  "This is only the beginning," the Obsidian Spirit murmured. "You stand at the threshold of true power. But a single spark means nothing if it is not fanned into a flame."

  Kofi frowned. “What are you?”

  "I am knowledge. I am memory. I am a fragment of something far greater than you can comprehend."

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  That wasn’t exactly an answer, but Kofi wasn’t in a position to argue. He exhaled, forcing himself to focus.

  Power or not, he was still trapped in an unknown dungeon, and he needed to find a way out.

  He scanned his surroundings. The chamber where he had fought the creature was eerily silent now, save for the occasional drip of water from the cracked ceiling. There were two exits—one leading back the way he came, and another deeper into the dungeon.

  Logic told him to turn back, but instinct told him otherwise.

  And for the first time in his life, Kofi decided to trust his instincts.

  He stepped forward, feeling the weight of his newfound strength with every movement.

  —

  As he moved through the dungeon, Kofi took note of what had changed within him.

  1. Enhanced Reflexes & Strength

  He felt faster, more agile. Before, dodging the monster’s attacks had been pure desperation. Now, his movements felt precise, controlled.

  His sword—once difficult to wield—felt lighter, and his strikes carried more force.

  2. Heightened Senses

  His hearing had sharpened; he could make out the faintest echoes of movement ahead.

  His vision had adjusted to the dim light with ease, allowing him to see further than before.

  Even his sense of touch felt different—his grip on his sword was more secure, his balance more stable.

  3. The Presence of the Obsidian Spirit

  The voice in his mind was not just a whisper—it felt anchored to him now, as if it were bound to his very being.

  Whatever this entity was, it was not merely speaking to him—it was watching, waiting.

  "You are changing," the voice noted. "But change is meaningless without understanding. Do you even know what you are becoming?"

  Kofi scowled. “I don’t have time for riddles. Just tell me what’s happening.”

  "That is not how this works, child. Knowledge must be earned. If you wish to understand your power, you must survive long enough to claim it."

  Kofi gritted his teeth but said nothing. If the spirit wasn’t going to give him answers, he would find them on his own.

  And so, he pressed forward.

  —

  The deeper Kofi went, the more he realized this dungeon was different.

  Most dungeons on Earth followed a pattern—monsters, treasure, a boss room, then an exit. But this place felt ancient, untouched, as if it had existed long before humans had ever discovered dungeon gates.

  Strange carvings lined the walls, depicting figures he didn’t recognize. Some resembled warriors, others creatures with multiple eyes and limbs. At the center of many murals was a symbol—a black sun, eclipsing everything beneath it.

  He traced a finger over one of the carvings. “What is this place?”

  "A graveyard," the Obsidian Spirit answered. "A prison. A forgotten piece of history, buried beneath time."

  That wasn’t exactly reassuring.

  As Kofi ventured further, he began encountering remnants of past explorers—broken weapons, shattered armor, even skeletal remains. Whoever had come here before him had not made it out.

  Then, he found something that made his breath catch.

  A Hunter’s insignia—a rusted metal badge bearing the emblem of the Ghanaian Hunter’s Guild.

  Someone from his world had been here before.

  Kofi’s grip on his sword tightened. If a trained Hunter had fallen here, then this dungeon was far more dangerous than he had assumed.

  But he wasn’t turning back now.

  He had to know the truth.

  And so, with cautious steps and a steady heart, Kofi continued deeper into the abyss—unaware that his journey had already begun to reshape the fate of the world.

  To Be Continued…