Kingsman Return

Triumph

When Arran woke up, he was met with darkness once more. What had seemed like a long time had passed turned out to only be an instant in reality. It was like he had never entered his dreamscape at all, as if everything was an illusion fashioned by his desire for a miracle.

But Arran knew it was real because the proof of it all was right in his hand. Right now, he was wielding a different weapon from before. It was a long staff, dark as the blackest obsidian with hoop-like white rings etched on its body in looping patterns.

Grasping the long staff, Arran felt its weight lying heavily in his hand with rough grainy lines creating a texture akin to polished wood that felt comfortable against the grip of his palm.

The staff was about 2.1 meters long, its length towering over Arran by a few centimeters. While wielding the staff, a surge of confidence unmistakably grew within Arran as if with only it in his hands, Arran could overturn the heavens.

Soran’s voice came into Arran’s mind a