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"No more..." muttered Arthur in his dream as he stretched for eternity. In the midst of the burning hell, Arthur felt a cool breeze wash over him. As he turned around, he saw a giant dragon created solely from water. Its blue eyes were full of intelligence as they stared down at him.

"Time to wake up, Arthur Silvera," muttered the being as Arthur felt his consciousness jolt as his eyes snapped open. He awakened in the middle of a blue room, warm and full to the brim with books. The sound of turning pages came from the far end, where the old man, Azkahar, sat.

"You spoke to me in my dream," said Arthur with confusion as he touched his face. "How long have I been unconscious for?"

"You still have time before the war," said Azkahar without raising his eyes from his book. "Sleep until your body recovers, because the training will not be any easier than crossing that bridge."

"How do you know what I came here for?" asked Arthur as he ignored the man\'s advice and crawled out of bed. His legs dropped on the floor like a lump of metal, and Arthur realized he could not control them.

"I have no desire nor an inkling to know what you came here to do, but you are the man I have been waiting for all this time," said Azkahar as he removed his reading glasses and stared at Arthur with his radiant blue eyes. "My life purpose is to train you. I have been researching the powers of creation and the curse of sins for centuries. I know more about them than anyone else."

"Creation? Sins?" muttered Arthur with a frown since this man seems to know everything about him. "How do you know this much about me?"

"How can I not know what you told me?" said Azkahar while shaking his head. "If one desires an answer, there are only a few he could seek. One would be the Omniscient God, Omari, but you knew he would not help you. Another is the Storyteller, the spirit who has all the answers."

"And one of those is Azkahar the Wise?" Arthur completed his sentence, and Azkahar smiled as he walked around the desk and crouched beside his limp legs.

"I have lived for as long as creation, and I had no desire but to quench my thirst for knowledge. Thus, I was amused when you sought me right before the Great Extinction."

"I never sought you."

"Not in this timeline, not yet," said Azkahar as he waved his hand above Arthur\'s leg. Water seeped into it, and Arthur felt rejuvenated as if all of his fatigue was gone. "Follow me to understand more about who I am."

After that, Azkahar left the room. Arthur could now walk again and he followed without a question. At least for now, this old man had no intentions to harm him. The two walked for several minutes in the blue-crystal corridors before reaching what seemed to be a giant hall. In the middle was a pond of clear water, reflecting the lights seeping through the glass ceiling.

"This pond is my own creation," said Azkahar as he approached it. "Every now and then, a droplet of water falls from the ceiling, where I planted my temporal artifact."

Arthur raised his head to see that in the center of the dome-shaped ceiling was a statue of a crying woman. Her face was sculpted with such details that he could see the sorrow in it. As he was staring at the artifact, a teardrop fell from her eye to land in the pond.

A wave of mana spread in the surroundings, washing over the two. Arthur saw the water ripple for a long time, as if rearranging itself. As for the old man with blue hair and eyes, he closed his eyes in reverie.

"Each droplet comes from other timelines, adding to the combined knowledge of every version of myself. In this pond, almost every piece of information I uncovered during my lifetime, whether I or an alternate version of myself, is stored."

"How did you plan this with the alternate timelines?" asked Arthur with a frown. "You need the other versions of yourself to cooperate to make this work."

"Every version of myself had this exact idea because it is the only way to prevent the catastrophe," said Azkahar as he turned toward Arthur. His serene voice turned deeper as his figure started turning blue. Arthur watched the old man turn from a human into a giant creature, the exact one in his dreams.

"You are a dragon," said Arthur with amazement as he stared at the familiar shape, although this one was not made of flesh.

"There are many kinds of dragons, and some you have already met. You met the Illusive Dragon and the Healer Dragon. The descendants of the White Dragon are also numerous. As for me, I am Azkahar the Blue Dragon, Lord of Wisdom."

"What does a dragon want from a human?"

"What does a human want from a dragon?" shot back Azkahar with a serene voice. "I have been waiting for you for a long time after a golden droplet fell from the temporal device. In the droplet was a vision, told by a man with golden eyes."

"And that man is me, Arthur Silvera."

"Almost every version of you had a similar idea to seek the Blue Dragon because you learned of my temporal device that connects all timelines. You already know the reason behind seeking me out."

"Wrath."

"Indeed," said the blue dragon as it swirled around the pond, floating atop it with eyes full of wisdom. "Do you know the greatest power in the world, Arthur?"

"Enlighten me."

"Spiritual power," revealed Azkahar, his answer confusing Arthur. "You might think that spiritual power is only used to control mana or contract spirits, but every human has it. The reason that spiritual energy is so powerful is that it accumulates between all those who have it."

"...are you saying that...?" mumbled Arthur with furrowed brows as he lowered his head. "Wrath was created by spiritual energy."

"Not created, but maintained. As long as injustice looms in the universe, wrath will exist. It might fade for a few hundred years, but it always resurfaces because every suffering man or woman feels it."

"This is the reason that wrath cannot be contained, as it will only grow stronger," said Arthur with realization. "I wanted to deny feeling it grow stronger, but the more I use its powers, the more it manifests."

"Black lightning, an armor, and even the black flames are all manifestations of it. Wrath intensifies as long as its target remains alive. Every version of yourself failed to handle it, so they sought me. From then, I realized my true purpose."

"How would you help me overcome wrath?"

"Have you seen the ocean outside my palace?" retorted Azkahar with a question of his own. "Waves rage and storms turn the ocean upside down, but serenity contains that rage."

"Lakes of Azkahar and this temple are both filled with serenity," said Arthur with realization. "Is this how to control wrath?"

"You must master your emotions before being able to divide them," nodded the blue dragon. "This is what you asked from me in every timeline. You gave me a simple request: to make you whole again."

"I have always been..."

"Alive, but not living," interrupted Azkahar with all-knowing eyes. "You have been plagued by apathy and rage, leaving you nothing but a hollow human who could barely feel love, sadness, or joy. You are powerful, Arthur Silvera. That, in turn, made you inhuman."

"This monologue of yours sounds more insulting than wise," said Arthur with a frown. "I still feel, no matter how minute. You cannot disregard that."

"A man with no purpose is nothing but a hollow puppet with chemicals," said Azkahar with a shake of his head. "In every timeline, you failed to realize your true purpose. In every timeline, you chose yourself."

"Is that a sin?"

"It might not be, but you considered it as one," said Azkahar as he dived straight into the pond. "Follow me to witness for yourself the worlds you have left behind. In this pond lay the knowledge you need to be the one who has a choice."

The dragon disappeared into the pond, and Arthur hesitated before rushing after him. As he jumped into the waters, he felt like he was falling from atop a mountain. The water covered every inch of his skin, filling him with knowledge that could only be described as monstrous.

"Worry not, Arthur Silvera. I will guide you through this journey to find the purpose behind your existence. It is there, but it needs you to believe in it."

Arthur could hear Azkahar\'s voice in his mind, but it was hard to focus as the colossal mountain of knowledge almost flattened him. However, the next instant, Arthur landed on muddy soil. His clothes were dry, still wearing only pants and no shirt.

"The mud beneath your feet was created from blood," said Azkahar as he floated above him. "We are in a place you know well as the Runera, the city you have built. In this timeline, you failed to overcome your wrath."