From the valley below, it looked like a wound in the heavens.
The Sky Fortress of Heaven-Split Sword Hall floated atop a rift in the sky—its foundation severed by time, held aloft by sheer spiritual force. Storm clouds circled endlessly around it, and red lightning licked at its spires like claws.
Raen narrowed his eyes.
"This is where the fourth shard is kept?"
Nira, pale but recovering, nodded. "According to the Vein Records, the shard is embedded in the old Grandmaster's tomb. But… the fortress hasn't let anyone land in over a decade."
Talin tilted his head. "So how do we get in? Knock politely on the clouds?"
Raen pointed skyward.
"No. We'll climb the dead stair."
Talin blinked. "The what now?"
---
📍 The Dead Stair
They stood before a path of ancient floating stones—barely wide enough for a foot, each one hovering just a few paces apart, reaching high into the clouds.
Carved on each one: a name.
Raen touched the first.
It burned.
> "Every step is a sword that died in battle," Nira whispered. "This isn't just a climb. It's a memory test."
Raen stepped forward.
The stone under his foot glowed faintly—whispers rising.
He saw a flash of a battle he'd never fought. A man dying with a blade in hand, shouting a name Raen didn't recognize—but the Veinblade did.
Talin cursed behind him. "I hate magic stairs. Why can't bad guys ever use ladders?"
Step after step, the memories worsened. Swords that shattered under betrayal. Masters who were slain by their disciples. Wars erased from records—but remembered by the stones.
Raen's pulse quickened. The Veinblade grew hot.
And then—
> "Raen."
He turned.
A figure stood on the next step up.
Dressed like him.
Same blade.
Same face.
But the eyes—cold. Detached. Smiling faintly.
> "I'm the one who never broke."