"Phantom Rebirth: The Last White Raven’s Path to the Ultimate Assassin"

Unleashing the Unknown

Seraphis stood in the dim glow of her laboratory, a chamber carved deep into the stone beneath her castle cave. Torches of blue flame flickered, casting eerie shadows over ancient tools, metal operating tables, and forbidden artifacts.

She reached into her dimensional bag, her fingers brushing past cold metal, enchanted scrolls, and vials of alchemical substances—until she found what she was looking for.

A sealed black cube.

The cube was rough to the touch, its surface etched with shifting runes that pulsed with an unnatural glow.

She placed it on the stone table before her and whispered the incantation.

The runes flared, then dissolved into smoke, and the cube cracked open.

From within, a creature emerged.

The Forbidden Lifeform

It was… wrong.

A twisted mass of black sinew and pulsing veins, moving as if it were half-liquid, half-flesh.

Its body constantly shifted, forming tendrils that curled and lashed before withdrawing back into itself.

Its head—or what could be called a head—was a featureless void, save for a single vertical slit that suddenly peeled open.

A golden eye stared at her, burning with an intelligence that should not exist.

Then, a sound.

Not a growl.

Not a snarl.

But a whisper— spoken directly into her mind.

"You are not my master."

Seraphis’s grip on her dagger tightened.

The First Experiment: Testing Its Form

She reached for a silver scalpel, the blade enchanted to cut through any living thing.

With precise movements, she sliced into its shifting mass—only to watch the wound instantly close.

The creature did not bleed.

Instead, its flesh simply reformed, as if the wound had never existed.

Seraphis narrowed her eyes.

Regeneration at a perfect level. No natural creature could do this.

She pulled out a vial of alchemical fire and poured it over the entity’s surface.

The flames clung to its body, burning with an unnatural blue glow.

And yet—the creature did not react.

It simply absorbed the fire, its form growing larger, as if it had fed upon the energy instead.

She stepped back.

"Fire is useless against it."

The Second Experiment: Testing Its Intelligence

Seraphis drew a magic circle on the floor, its glyphs glowing with containment runes.

The creature stilled, its shifting body momentarily pausing, as if recognizing the symbols.

She spoke in Noctriis, the assassin’s shadow language.

"Do you understand me?"

The creature blinked its golden eye, then… spoke.

"You wield the words of killers. But you are not one of them."

Seraphis’s breath hitched.

It understood Noctriis?

She tried another. Aetherian, the Skyborn script.

"What are you?"

The creature tilted its head, its body rippling.

"I am a fragment of something greater. I do not remember what I was before."

Seraphis frowned.

A being that does not remember its origins? That meant…

It was either incomplete or sealed away from its full potential.

She needed to push further.

The Third Experiment: Magic Infusion

She reached for a black crystal, infused with raw mana, and pressed it against the creature’s form.

A surge of energy crackled, and the creature twitched violently.

Then, for a moment, it changed.

Its shifting mass solidified, taking a vaguely humanoid shape.

Its arms formed into clawed hands, its legs into serpentine coils.

Its eye narrowed as it looked at her.

Then—it spoke in a voice not its own.

"She made us… But we do not remember her name."

Seraphis’s heart pounded.

"Who is 'she'?" she demanded.

The creature shuddered, its form losing cohesion again.

"She made us… She made all of us… But we were scattered… We were broken…"

The words faded into a whisper, and the creature collapsed back into its formless state.

Seraphis took a step back, her mind racing.

Someone created this thing. A woman. A being of immense power.

And if this was just one fragment…

How many more were out there?

An Experiment Almost Gone Wrong

Seraphis reached for another containment spell—but too late.

The creature suddenly surged forward, tendrils lashing out like a mass of black serpents.

She barely had time to dodge, rolling to the side as a tendril smashed into the table, shattering it to splinters.

With a snarl, she drew her dagger, its edge glowing with sealing magic.

"Enough."

She threw the dagger, the blade embedding itself into the creature’s eye.

A screech ripped through the room, as the creature convulsed—then froze.

Its body solidified, turning into a blackened husk before collapsing into dust.

Silence.

Seraphis exhaled, her pulse still racing.

That… had been too close.

She stared at the pile of dark dust.

Her mind replayed the words.

"She made us… but we do not remember her name."

Who was this "she"?

And how many other creations of hers still roamed the world?