The biting wind swept through the ruins of what was once the Tower of Prophecy — now a shattered silhouette, devoured by time and betrayal. Where once words of destiny echoed across the stone halls, now silence ruled. A silence too heavy to be called peace.
Shadow walked among the broken stones with even, silent steps. His long black cloak flowed like a living specter behind him, eyes scanning every inch of the collapsed structure with absolute precision.
"This is the place," he said, voice low but clear. "There's a residue of will buried in the magical weave of these ruins."
From a nearby fissure, Aeryn emerged, bow ready but lowered. Her breathing was tense, controlled.
"You're sure? No one's been here in over twenty years."
"No one needs to," Shadow replied calmly. "When someone like him leaves a mark... time can't erase it."
Behind them, a voice emerged from the shadows:
"You're talking about the Northern Wraith, aren't you?"
It was Leon. He'd arrived without a sound, his ash-colored cloak barely rustling. The fire of youth was gone from him, replaced by tempered authority and a gaze that burned with quiet intensity.
Shadow shot him a sharp look.
"Don't speak that name lightly. He's still watching. Always."
A strange gust swept through the ruins, and for a split second, a blue light flickered in the air. Aeryn raised her bow instinctively.
"What was that?"
"A signal. The beginning," Shadow said flatly. "They're coming. All of them."
Far away, in the underground city of Gharn, Elys stared at the arcane monitors that had long been linked to ancient power nodes buried across the world. Something had lit up. Something old. Something forbidden.
"No way… Commander, we're picking up a Class-OX magical pulse in the East-Dekan region."
General Kain, silent until now, slowly looked up.
"Who's out there?"
"Team Shadow."
A small, unreadable smile touched the general's lips.
"Then prepare everything. Shadow just triggered the first beacon."
Back in the ruins, Shadow raised his hand. From the cracked earth, a column of light emerged, and a circle of magic formed in the air. The runic gears began to spin wildly. Aeryn stepped back.
"I—I don't recognize the pattern. What are you summoning?"
"I'm not summoning," Shadow replied. "I'm unlocking a sealed memory."
The runes burst into blue flames, and from the center, a figure wrapped in smoke materialized. It had no face, but its presence was undeniable. Its voice echoed like thunder in a deep cavern:
"Who dares open my gate?"
"I do. Shadow. Executor of the Aeternum Line. Recognition Code: First Voice."
Silence followed.
Then — the figure dropped to one knee.
"Welcome back, Chosen One."
The figure, still kneeling before Shadow, trembled as though recognizing the presence of something ancient, something unstoppable. Its body shimmered with ethereal energy, and a silent pressure filled the air. Aeryn watched, unsure whether to draw her bow or retreat into the shadows.
"I... I remember you," the figure spoke again, voice distorted yet unmistakable. "The Chosen One, who once sealed the Darkness."
Shadow's expression remained unchanged, but his eyes darkened slightly.
"You know why I'm here," he said coldly. "I need the knowledge you possess. The secrets locked within these ruins."
The figure nodded solemnly, and as it did, the ruins around them seemed to pulse with life. The air thickened, and the remnants of ancient magic began to resonate in the very ground they stood upon.
"The price for such knowledge," the figure began, its voice turning cryptic, "is not easily paid. Time is a currency in short supply. And those who seek to unlock the past often find themselves consumed by it."
Shadow's gaze hardened.
"I've already paid the price," he replied. "I've sacrificed more than you could ever fathom. If this is about power, then you misunderstand me. I seek only the truth."
The figure stood slowly, its form becoming more defined as the light from the runes illuminated its face — a face that was not truly a face, but a reflection of many. The memories of those who had come before it, those who had once walked this very ground.
"Very well," the figure said, the energy in its voice shifting, becoming far more intimate. "But be warned. The truth you seek may shatter you. What lies within these ruins... is not the knowledge of the gods, nor the will of mortals. It is something else entirely."
A sudden noise disrupted the moment. A high-pitched sound, like the screech of metal against stone, echoed through the ruins. The ground beneath them trembled as if something deep below was awakening.
Shadow's hand instinctively reached for the blade at his side, his focus narrowing.
"Something is coming," he muttered. "We don't have much time."
Leon, having remained quiet until now, took a step forward, his voice sharp and ready. "Should we prepare for combat? We're not alone."
Aeryn nodded, her fingers dancing over the grip of her bow, ready to draw at a moment's notice.
The figure, however, remained calm, its gaze focused on Shadow.
"Your enemies are not what they seem," it whispered. "They are only shadows of a greater darkness. You've already crossed paths with it, without realizing. Be careful where your path leads, for it may not be the one you intended to walk."
As the tremors increased in intensity, the figure slowly dissolved into mist, leaving Shadow and his companions in an uncertain stillness.
"Let's move," Shadow ordered. "We need to find the source of this disturbance."
The air around them crackled with static as a flash of light shot up from the depths below. It was time to face what was awakening.
In the heart of Gharn, General Kain stood before a massive map, his fingers tracing the paths that led to the ruins. His mind raced as he thought about what had just been triggered. Shadow had set something in motion, and now the question was whether they could control it—or if it would control them.
"We'll be ready," Kain muttered to himself. "Let them come."
Back in the ruins, the ground split open, revealing a dark abyss beneath them. Something moved within, its presence undeniable. Shadow's eyes flared with intensity as he stepped forward.
"This is where it all begins," he whispered, knowing full well that once they descended, there would be no turning back.
The wind howled as they approached the opening. The world around them seemed to hold its breath.
They descended.
The crack in the ground led to a spiral of ancient stone steps, worn smooth by centuries and untouched by light. The deeper they went, the heavier the air became — not just with dust or mold, but with something intangible. A pressure. A memory. A warning.
Aeryn walked close behind Shadow, her steps silent. Leon, behind them both, ran his fingers along the wall, murmuring softly.
"These markings… they predate the First Accord. Maybe even the Founders' Age. This isn't just a ruin — it's a vault."
Shadow didn't respond. His eyes were locked on the darkness below, where the spiral ended in a wide chamber lit by an unnatural blue glow.
When they stepped inside, the sight stopped them cold.
Dozens of stone pillars surrounded a glowing pool of liquid magic — raw, unstable, alive. Symbols rotated above its surface, whispering ancient truths in forgotten tongues. And floating above it all, suspended in a web of crystal threads, was a body.
Or at least, something that once was human.
Aeryn gasped.
"What… in all the realms… is that?"
The body was partially preserved, wrapped in torn ceremonial robes that shimmered faintly. Its eyes were open — glowing, empty. Its hands were bound in silver runes, and from its mouth, a trail of energy bled into the pool beneath.
Leon's voice was strained. "That's no corpse. It's a vessel."
Shadow stepped forward, careful not to disturb the circle.
"This is what the figure meant," he said. "This is the seal. Not of knowledge — of will. Someone bound their very soul to the flow of magic itself."
He turned toward his team.
"This person… was once one of us."
Aeryn's eyes widened. "One of the Founders?"
Shadow nodded slowly. "Or worse. One of the Fallen."
A sharp vibration ran through the air. The pool shimmered violently, and the body twitched.
"Back!" Shadow barked.
They leapt away just as the pool erupted — not outward, but inward. A massive implosion of magic swallowed the light, and a new voice echoed in the chamber, reverberating through stone, blood, and mind.
"Who seeks the end?"
Leon grimaced, clutching his head. "It's speaking directly into our minds!"
Shadow stood his ground. "We do not seek the end. We seek what lies beneath the lie."
A long pause.
Then: "You carry the mark of the Watcher. And the scent... of the Unmade."
The body jerked again. Its eyes shifted from vacant light to piercing awareness. It looked at Shadow. And smiled.
"So it begins again..."
Without warning, a burst of blue fire launched from the pool. Shadow raised his arm, conjuring a black barrier that shattered on impact but absorbed enough to keep them alive.
"Move!" he commanded.
Leon pulled Aeryn behind a pillar as another blast roared through the chamber. The floating body now hovered upright, limbs stretching, bones cracking.
"It's not a vessel anymore," Leon whispered. "It's awake."
Aeryn's voice was filled with dread. "Then what do we do?"
Shadow's eyes narrowed.
"We finish what was left undone."
The chamber quaked with unnatural force as the resurrected figure floated above the glowing pool. Its robes billowed in a phantom wind, while its eyes — now burning with a deep violet fire — locked onto Shadow with a knowing glare.
"You carry the name of one who betrayed me," the being said, its voice layered with echoes of countless voices past. "Shadow. The one who walks through fate unbound. The one who refused the cycle."
Shadow took a step forward, his silhouette unaffected by the swirling winds and arcane pressure around them.
"I am not him," he said. "But I carry his memory. And his debt."
The entity laughed — a hollow, otherworldly sound that cracked the runes lining the ceiling.
"A debt cannot be paid with memory," it hissed. "Only with blood."
Aeryn gritted her teeth. "Shadow, we can't face this thing unprepared. Whatever it is, it's been sealed for centuries for a reason!"
Leon's hand hovered over the hilt of his blade, tension rippling through his aura. "We need to shut it back down. Contain the core. Break the link between it and the pool."
Shadow slowly raised his right hand. A black glyph ignited on the back of his palm, rotating counterclockwise — a mark of ancient origin.
"No," he said calmly. "We don't seal it."
He pointed at the creature.
"We liberate it."
The chamber fell silent. Even the entity seemed taken aback.
"You would… set me free?"
"You were bound unjustly," Shadow replied. "And if what I suspect is true, you were used as a battery for something far worse."
The being hesitated. The glow in its eyes flickered, its form wavering.
"They called me 'Herald of the Unspoken.' They feared me because I heard what they chose to silence. I saw the true war. Not the surface battles… but the ones beneath the timelines."
Leon's expression darkened. "Timeline manipulation. That confirms it. This isn't just about magic. It's about control of reality itself."
Aeryn looked between them, then to the figure. "If you were a Herald… then who was the Voice?"
The Herald smiled faintly.
"She still sleeps. But the moment is near. And when she speaks again… your world will fracture."
Shadow stepped closer. "Then tell me — before this world cracks — what's coming?"
The Herald floated downward, his voice now low, almost reverent.
"A war of folds. One where every version of this world will collide — one where the Absolute must choose."
"The Absolute?" Leon asked, alarm rising in his tone. "You don't mean…"
Shadow nodded slowly.
"Yes. The one who was never meant to exist."
The pool behind them began to shimmer violently. The Herald turned his gaze toward it and whispered:
"She's waking up."
Without hesitation, Shadow drew a blade of pure shadow and slashed a sigil into the air. A portal cracked into existence, glowing white and lined with fractals of time itself.
"Leon. Aeryn. Through the gate. Now."
"But—" Aeryn began.
"No time!" Shadow shouted. "This chamber is collapsing into a time-fold! MOVE!"
As the world around them began to twist, with sounds of both thunder and whispers echoing at once, the three dove into the gate. Behind them, the Herald offered one final murmur:
"Tell the Absolute… the Watcher remembers."
And then the gate snapped shut.
They landed in silence. A new place. A new plane.
The ground beneath was made of mirrored stone, and above them stretched a sky with no end — a canvas of shifting stars and inverted constellations.
Leon stood, brushing dust from his coat.
"Well," he muttered. "That escalated."
Aeryn looked to Shadow, who stood perfectly still, his eyes closed.
"Where are we?" she asked.
Shadow opened his eyes, and for a brief moment, they shimmered with nine colors at once.
"Nowhere."
He looked to the distance, where something massive stirred beneath the mirrored horizon.
"And everywhere."