The descent began with silence.
Not the hushed stillness of a tomb or the reverent quiet of old libraries—but an absolute void of sound. No breath. No heartbeat. No whisper from Wyrm. Only the creaking ache of Solan Maelvaran's soul stretching against the fabric of a dream not meant for men.
His bare feet met stone.
He stood ankle-deep in black water, ringed by broken statues of mourning figures. Their faces had been sheared smooth, as though sorrow had erased identity itself. The drowned wind, if it existed, refused to stir.
Above him: no sky.
Only an endless ceiling of stone, miles high, carved with spiraling runes too vast to read. And from it, the rain fell—not water, but memories, each drop an echo of another's regret.
Solan inhaled. The taste of loss clung to the air like rot.
[Entering Tier IV – The Drowned Reliquary]Alert: Soulchain "Wyrm" suppressedVeil Density: 67%Sanity Risk: HighPassive Effect: Memory Corrosion begins
The system faded, as always, without fanfare. But its cold presence remained.
Solan took his first step forward—and immediately staggered.
The weight of the realm bore down like gravity doubled. Each movement resisted him. Each thought snagged on invisible threads. Worse, something inside him forgot—just for a moment—why he'd come.
A name slipped from his tongue.
"...Ael?"
He blinked. No memory came to match it.
The Labyrinth had begun its erosion.
Biting down panic, Solan pressed onward. Through the shattered archway of a sunken cathedral, he entered a half-submerged nave. Water lapped at the broken pews, and tattered banners wept threads from the rafters. Faces—his own face—gazed back at him from warped reflections below the surface.
"Do not stop," he muttered, to no one.
A pale flame flickered near the altar. Solan approached, water up to his waist now, and found a floating scroll sealed in bone-wax. The wax bore a sigil of three closed eyes.
[Memory Archive Detected: Lost Name – "Caltrien, the Fire-Bound"]Sub-Trial Unlocked: The Brother Beneath the WavesGrief Trial Initiated
A cold wind tore through the reliquary. The water surged. From its depths rose a twisted figure—humanoid in shape, draped in drowned clerical robes, its face a half-melted mass of scars and salt. A rune seared into its chest pulsed with violet light.
Solan did not remember the name. But his body reacted before he could think. He raised a defensive sigil, the Mask's runes blazing across his forearm.
The wraith spoke in his voice: "You left me beneath the tide, brother. You climbed the fire—and I drowned."
The duel began.
The phantom moved like smoke over water, its attacks laced with despair. Each blow sapped Solan's Resolve, not with pain—but with hopelessness. He fought back with raw Veilcraft, conjuring a circle of glyphs and casting them outward in an arc of memory-burn.
The specter reeled. Solan advanced, slamming the runes into its body like nails into wood. Bloodless, it screamed—but did not fall.
"Name me," it howled, "or drown with me!"
His eyes widened. He couldn't remember its name.
The Labyrinth demanded truth.
In desperation, Solan opened the Codex bound to his soul. Blood surged from his fingertips as he flipped to the fresh, still-wet page. The glyphs twisted. They screamed.
"Caltrien," he whispered. "Your name… was Caltrien."
A silence fell.
The wraith dissolved—not in ash or smoke, but in forgiveness. A sigh escaped the space where it had been. The scroll unsealed.
[Grief Trial Complete: Caltrien]Veil Sigil Acquired: 1/3Sanity Stability +4%Memory Fragment Recovered: The Night of the Firebound Chains
Solan staggered back, half-falling against the edge of the altar. His chest burned where the new Sigil seared itself into him. A mark of passage.
He knew there were two more trials to face. Two more names to remember.
And at the heart of this place, a thing chained not by locks or steel—but by despair itself.
The Abnegate Sovereign waited.
He cast one last glance toward the reflection pools. His own image no longer returned his gaze.
Only a stranger remained—eyes hollowed by shadow, arm etched in writhing sigils, and a crown of silent flame burning above the Mask.
The water whispered.
He stepped deeper into the drowned world, unaware of the watchers in the still water behind him.
And far above, beyond the skyless veil, something stirred—drawn not by his power, but by the memories he no longer possessed.