The gate loomed above the landscape like a scar etched across heaven—a monumental archway of stone and starlight, suspended between two jagged mountain peaks. Its surface shimmered with constellations that shifted and flowed like liquid metal, responding to some rhythm only the cosmos understood.
Sylas and Alira stood at its base, the branded marks on their bodies glowing faintly in its presence. There was no mistaking it—the gate resonated with their essence. It knew them.
"I feel like we're being... pulled in," Alira murmured. Her voice was low, reverent. "Like the gate's alive."
Sylas ran a hand across one of the smooth pillars. "It doesn't feel like magic. It feels... older. Preceding time."
The air before them began to distort. A pulse of gravity, then another. The space between the arch began to swirl with energy, and a vortex formed—deep, silent, infinite. Through it, vague shapes could be seen: a sky lit by two suns, trees of crystal, and a city floating upside-down, anchored by chains of light.
Then a voice echoed—not from the gate, but from behind.
"You shouldn't go in unprepared."
They turned, blades at the ready. A figure emerged from the mist—tall, robed in tattered white, a mask hiding their face. The being carried no weapon, but its aura was undeniable. It was old—far older than the Watcher.
"Who are you?" Sylas demanded.
"I am the Warden of the Threshold," the figure replied. "And if you enter now, you will die."
Alira narrowed her eyes. "Then what are we supposed to do? Wait and be hunted by the Void Keepers?"
The Warden shook its head slowly. "No. You must earn the right to pass. The Gate responds to those who understand not just power, but the price of choice."
Sylas felt the mark on his hand pulse. "And how do we do that?"
"There are three trials," the Warden said. "Three truths hidden within this world. Find them, and the Gate will open willingly. Force it, and it will consume you."
With a motion of the Warden's hand, three glowing sigils appeared in the air. Each pointed in a different direction—mountains, desert, sea.
"One trial in each place," the Warden said. "Begin where your heart leads you. But remember—each truth comes with sacrifice."
Then, the Warden vanished like mist in morning light.
Alira looked to Sylas. "So it begins again."
He nodded. "Let's finish what we started."
Together, they turned toward the first path—the mountains.