The Chamber of Two Voices
The tile beneath Raghu's foot pulsed once—
a heartbeat of green light, soft and knowing.
Then the world folded.
The corridor behind him collapsed into a line of pure darkness.
Sound died.
Color drained.
And the Gate sealed itself, severing him from every other presence in Station Nine.
For a long moment, Raghu floated in weightlessness—
as though suspended inside a thought the world had forgotten to complete.
Then the chamber formed around him.
A vast, circular expanse.
No walls—only shifting geometry made of metallic vines and pale green mist.
The ground breathed, exhaling faint pulses of light.
Above, the ceiling rippled like water, bending reflections that were not his.
"The Gate reacts to what you carry…"
The avian's earlier words echoed faintly inside his mind.
Raghu exhaled slowly.
The sword on his hip throbbed—
once, twice—
then burst into light.
Two distinct pulses answered back.
One gentle.
One violent.
The chamber brightened as the fragments awakened.
Then, two voices emerged.
The First Voice — Soft, Rooted, Ancient
"Raghu…"
It sounded like breath moving through leaves.
Quiet.
Observant.
Patient.
The mist near his left side coalesced into a faint silhouette—
no form, only suggestion.
A rhythm, like a calm hand over his heart.
"You listen. You breathe. You grow."
The voice was warm. "But even roots can fear the wind."
The Second Voice — Sharp, Metallic, Unforgiving
"Raghu."
The right side of the chamber cracked open—
a jagged light slicing through the mist.
This voice was a blade.
Cold.
Precise.
Unyielding.
"You hesitate. You doubt. You hold back."
A low hum followed. "Power does not wait for the afraid."
The temperature shifted—
warm to cold, soft to harsh—
as if the room itself couldn't decide what it was.
Raghu tightened his grip on the hilt.
"What do you want from me?"
The soft voice answered first.
"To understand."
The sharp voice cut through.
"To choose."
Raghu swallowed.
"Choose what?"
This time, neither voice answered.
Instead, the chamber flickered—
and memory surged through him like a tidal wave.
The Lore of the King — Revealed Through Echoes
The chamber went completely still.
The mist froze.
The sharp and gentle pulses aligned for one impossible moment.
Both voices spoke together:
"See what we once were."
Light exploded behind Raghu's eyes—
not blinding, but overwhelming.
The chamber dissolved, and he stood within a memory carved into the very fragments he carried.
Not a vision…
a cosmic wound replaying itself.
A figure appeared—
not clear, not whole—
Beast? Having features resembling of a Human
Then , a silhouette of a Man..with a commanding presence.
Once.
Curious.
Brilliant.
Relentless.
He traveled across starless voids.
He walked dimensions where time curled like smoke.
He learned truths never meant for mortals.
The gentle voice whispered:
"He sought truth."
The sharp voice snarled:
"He sought power."
Raghu watched the king cross a realm unlike any other—
a forbidden domain where reality twitched like a living creature.
There, floating at the heart of the realm, was something impossible:
A weapon shaped like a fang—
not forged, not born—
true.
Something reality tried to hide.
The king reached for it.
The gentle voice trembled.
"He should not have."
The sharp voice replied without remorse.
"He must."
The king pulled the impossible from the domain's core.
The domain screamed.
Reality tore.
And the king ascended.
He Became Something more...
Galaxies bent around his will.
Civilizations bowed beneath his voice.
Stars dimmed at his passing.
His rule was glorious—
and stained crimson.
The sharp voice whispered with hunger:
"He ruled the universe."
The gentle voice murmured with grief:
"He erased it."
Worlds fell.
Races burned.
Truth itself hid from him.
Until the universe intervened.
Not gods.
Not heroes.
Reality.
The Fang he stole—
the weapon of impossible truth—
shattered itself to stop him.
Fourteen fragments.
Fourteen scattered echoes across existence.
The king—abandoned by his stolen power—
fell into nothingness.
His name erased.
His story forgotten.
His kingdom devoured.
Only fragments remained.
Slumbering.
Waiting.
Back in the Chamber
Raghu gasped as the memory collapsed, the world snapping back around him.
The two voices spoke again—
one trembling, one sharp:
"We were his weapon."
"We refused him."
Raghu staggered.
The sword felt heavier.
"What do you want from me?" he whispered again.
This time, the answer was clear.
"We want to know what kind of bearer you will be."
The chamber split in two.
On the left—
a corridor of calm green light.
Growth. Patience. Balance.
On the right—
a corridor of violent silver energy.
Dominance. Force. Judgment.
The gentle voice pleaded:
"Choose harmony."
The sharp voice demanded:
"Choose strength."
Raghu stared at both paths.
His heartbeat thundered.
Then—
He stepped into neither.
He drove the sword into the ground.
The chamber screamed as fragments on both sides reacted—
shocked, furious, confused.
Raghu shouted over the noise:
"I'm not choosing your path.
You're choosing mine."
The chamber convulsed.
Light exploded.
Gravity inverted.
Mist turned into blades.
The floor ripped open.
Raghu held firm, both hands gripping the hilt.
His Verdant Pulse surged—
not calm, not violent—
harmonized.
The gentle voice gasped.
The sharp voice growled.
And then—
The two voices merged.
A single, unified whisper:
"Resonance accepted."
The chamber quieted.
The sword lifted itself from the ground.
New veins of light—green and silver—spread across its core.
Trial Complete — Verdant Resonance Achieved
The Gate tile formed beneath Raghu's feet.
A new corridor unfolded—
its path pulsing with both colors of the fragments.
A message seared itself across his Halo Watch:
[TRIAL COMPLETE — INDIVIDUAL PATH UNLOCKED]
[FANG RESONANCE: TRUE BEGINNING]
Raghu exhaled.
The voices were silent now—
but the sword hummed like it was alive.
He stepped forward.
And the Gate carried him onward.