||Fractures in the Shard||
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Morning – Under the Whisperer's Eyes
Seven stood motionless as the morning sun began to crawl over the jagged horizon. The sanctum above had settled into an eerie calm. Ezreth was gone, vanished like smoke on the wind, leaving him alone with the weight of the trial. But the Mirror Hall was still with him, the shards of glass lying scattered around the chamber like broken promises.
The whispers—the voices—still echoed in his mind.
"You think you're something special?"
"The Planes will break you."
"You have nothing left but the shard."
Seven clenched his jaw, his eyes narrow as he stared at his reflection in the cracked glass. He had survived. That was what mattered.
But something had shifted within him. The shard was no longer just a tool, a weapon. It was an extension of his soul. The power had started to weave itself into his being, fracturing him bit by bit. He could feel it—the strain of something ancient, something infinite, pulling at the very core of who he was. The shard hadn't bonded with him yet. It wasn't supposed to.
But it was using him.
He let out a slow breath, his hand hovering over the jagged edge of a shard that lay before him.
The power wasn't in his control. And for the first time since the moment the shard had embedded itself in his arm, Seven felt... vulnerable.
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The Vault of Forgotten Truths
The Vault was deep beneath the Whisperer's sanctum—an underground labyrinth of knowledge so ancient that the walls themselves seemed to breathe. Every step echoed in the heavy silence, the very air thick with secrets, with the weight of forgotten empires and shattered worlds.
Seven had followed the Whisperer here after the mirrors. He hadn't spoken much—he rarely did. But now, standing before a massive door of solid black stone, his senses hummed with tension.
"This is where the truth lies," the Whisperer's voice rippled across the silence, "beyond your perceptions, beyond the lies of your past. If you seek knowledge of the shard, then this is where you must go. But be warned, it will demand everything of you."
The door opened with a low groan, revealing an inner chamber filled with rows of floating orbs—each one pulsating with energy.
Seven felt an instinctive pull toward one of them. He reached out, his fingers brushing the surface. The orb reacted instantly, a surge of energy flooding his senses. It was as if the shard itself recognized him.
But the flood wasn't one of clarity. It was confusion—an overwhelming torrent of voices, images, and sensations that left him gasping for breath. The past... future... plans within plans. He saw an empire, its people worshipping the very shard he carried, their cries echoing through his mind.
And then he saw himself.
But this version of Seven wasn't the one standing in this vault. This Seven wore the crown of a ruler. This Seven ruled the Planes.
It was a twisted vision—his mind stretched and distorted by the energies of the orb. He saw the destruction, the wars, the chaos he had unleashed.
The orb trembled beneath his touch.
"Leave it," the Whisperer said softly.
But it was too late. Seven was already sinking into the depths of the vision.
-------
The vision shifted again, taking him somewhere else—a vast plane of existence, its sky alive with lightning. The ground beneath his feet was cracked, shattered by cosmic forces. In the distance, he could see enormous, living titans fighting battles in the heavens, their clashes sending shockwaves across the landscape.
Seven was standing among them—no longer an observer, but a participant.
He saw the face of a woman, fierce and proud, her eyes filled with ancient knowledge. She stood beside him, but she was not a friend. She was a threat—a rival.
"The Shard will consume you, Seeker," she whispered, her voice cold and unyielding. "You are a tool, nothing more."
He reached for her, but she stepped back, vanishing into the storm.
The vision shifted again, this time to a barren world—nothing but dust, broken stone, and the hollow echo of forgotten wars. The people here were not human, but something else. Something more ancient. Their gaze was unfocused, but their presence was suffocating.
He saw himself again—no longer standing with the woman but kneeling before a being with eyes like burning stars.
The being spoke to him in an ancient tongue, one that burned his mind with its power. The meaning was unclear, but the intent was not.
"You are the last of the Seeker's line," the being said. "And you will bring ruin, whether you wish it or not."
Seven's chest tightened as he pulled away from the orb. His breath came in short gasps, his mind still reeling from the vision. He staggered backward, his hand pressed to his temple.
The Whisperer watched him closely, the faintest trace of pity in his hollow eyes.
"You saw it," the Whisperer said quietly. "The path you walk, Seven. It is one of destruction. And not just for you. For everyone."
Seven's fists clenched.
"You think I want this?" he spat. "You think I asked for this power?"
The Whisperer's lips curved into a faint smile, though his expression remained otherwise unreadable.
"No," the Whisperer said, his voice strangely warm. "But you are walking the path none of us could ever have chosen. The shard is more than just a tool. It is a key. And like any key, it unlocks doors—doors that should have stayed shut."
Seven turned his back to the Whisperer, his gaze falling to the shattered orb on the floor.
"I didn't ask for this," he said again, softer this time. "But I'll take it. I'll make it mine."
The Whisperer's smile faded.
"Just remember, the more you take, the more you lose. You cannot wield the shard without paying the price."
---
Ezreth was waiting for him outside the vault.
"You're looking more… disturbed than usual," she observed, her tone light but cautious.
Seven didn't respond immediately. He stood there, his mind still caught in the web of the vision, the fragment of the future that he had glimpsed.
"You were right," he said finally. "The shard… it's not just power. It's something else."
Ezreth's brow furrowed, but she said nothing. She just nodded.
"I'm leaving Kaarn," Seven said. "I'm heading to the Core. I need to understand what's happening."
The Core. The heart of the empire's technology, the center of knowledge, and the place where the first Planar doors had been opened. If there was any hope of understanding the shard, of controlling it, it was there.
Ezreth stepped closer, her mechanical eye flickering with uncertainty.
"Are you sure?" she asked.
"I'm sure."
"Then I'll follow you," she said, her voice firm.
Seven shook his head.
"I go alone."
Before she could protest, he turned and walked away, his figure dissolving into the mist of the Wilds.
Ezreth stood silently for a long time before turning toward the horizon. The path Seven walked was dangerous. It always had been. But now, it was more than that. It was a road to destruction.
And the whispers that followed him were only growing louder.