The corridor beyond the shattered mirror was not a hallway of stone and mortar. It felt like walking through the throat of a long-dead leviathan. The walls were lined with rib-like arches of weathered obsidian, and the floor was covered in a layer of fine, grey ash that muffled Kael's uneven footsteps.
Kael limped through the gloom, using a jagged shard of the Spirit-Silver mirror as a makeshift cane. His left leg, rebuilt a dozen times by the curse in the last hour, felt heavy and numb. The 'Reforged Sun' on his finger was a dim, guttering ember, the Star-Core within it pulsing with a rhythmic, sickly violet light. Every breath he took was a struggle, his lungs still feeling the phantom pressure of the ocean depths.
The air here didn't just smell of ozone and decay; it smelled of time. It was the scent of a thousand years of stagnation, of a world that had been forgotten by the sun.
YOU ARE TIRED, LITTLE HEALER, the God's voice rang out, no longer a whisper at the edge of his mind, but a resonant, physical presence that seemed to vibrate the very air of the corridor. THE MERCY YOU SHOWED THE GLASS... IT COST YOU DEARLY. WAS THE SMILE OF A DEAD BOY WORTH THE DEPLETION OF YOUR LIGHT?
"He wasn't just a boy," Kael rasped, his voice echoing hollowly against the obsidian ribs. "He was who I was. Before Sam. Before you."
Kael stopped, leaning heavily against the wall. He coughed, and this time, the blood that hit the ash-covered floor was dark enough to be purple. He looked up into the darkness, his violet-gold eyes searching for a face that wasn't there.
"Why me?" Kael demanded, his anger flaring through the exhaustion. "There are thousands of mages in Oakhaven. There are Grandmasters like Alaric who have enough mana to power a kingdom. Why did you choose a boy from a jungle?"
A low, rumbling chuckle vibrated through the floorboards.
CHOOSE? the God echoed. I DID NOT CHOOSE YOU, KAEL LIGHT. I RECOGNIZED YOU. YOU ARE THE HEIR TO THE PERPETUAL DAWN, AND I AM THE ARCHITECT OF THE ETERNAL ECLIPSE. WE HAVE BEEN SEEKING EACH OTHER SINCE THE WORLD WAS COOLING FROM THE FIRST FIRE.
Kael felt a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature of the corridor. "Elara never told me about a 'Perpetual Dawn.' She said I was an orphan. Abandoned."
THE WITCH OF THE CANOPY KNEW MORE THAN SHE ADMITTED, the God purred. SHE HELD BACK THE AGES TO PROTECT YOU, BUT SHE ONLY SUCCEEDED IN MAKING YOU A RICHER FEAST. THE 'WHITE SUN' MANA YOU CULTIVATE IS NOT JUST ENERGY; IT IS THE PRIMARY SUBSTANCE OF CREATION. AND I... I AM THE VOID THAT LONGS TO CONSUME IT.
The walls of the corridor began to ripple, the obsidian turning translucent. Kael saw images appearing in the stone, not reflections of himself, but scenes from a history that predated the Kingdom of Oakhaven.
He saw a city beneath the sea—Aethelgard—not as a ruin, but as a sprawling metropolis of silver and light. The people there didn't use circles or rings; they spoke to the elements as if they were old friends. At the center of the city stood a Great Seal, a sun trapped in a cage of obsidian.
AETHELGARD WAS MY CATHEDRAL, the God's voice grew solemn, almost mournful. I WAS NOT A DEMON TO THEM. I WAS THE GUARDIAN OF THE NIGHT, THE ONE WHO ENSURED THAT THE SUN DID NOT BURN THE WORLD TO CINDERS. BUT MAN IS A SPECIES DEFINED BY GREED. THEY WANTED THE DAWN WITHOUT THE DUSK. THEY TRIED TO HARNESS MY VOID TO POWER THEIR IMMORTALITY.
In the obsidian walls, Kael saw the city beginning to crumble. He saw the silver towers being swallowed by black water. He saw a group of mages—the ancestors of the Academy—performing a ritual that turned the God's own shadow against it.
THEY CALLED IT JUSTICE, the God hissed. THEY LOCKED ME IN THE FORBIDDEN CHAMBER, TURNING MY OWN ESSENCE INTO THE CHAINS THAT BOUND ME. FOR A THOUSAND YEARS, I FED ON THE SLOW DECAY OF THE SEA. I WATCHED THE WORLD FORGET THE NAME OF THE DARK MOON. I WATCHED THE ACADEMY TURN MAGIC INTO A SERIES OF COLD, DEAD FORMULAS.
"And Sam?" Kael asked. "How did a merchant find a way to talk to a locked god?"
THE SHARD, the God replied. A PIECE OF MY OWN HEART THAT I BROKE OFF AND SENT INTO THE CURRENT CENTURIES AGO. IT WANDERED THE EARTH, SEEKING A SOUL DARK ENOUGH TO HEAR IT. IT FOUND MANY—KINGS, WARRIORS, SCHOLARS—BUT THEY WERE ALL TOO AFRAID. UNTIL IT FOUND SAM WILLER.
Kael closed his eyes, picturing the moment in the ruins. The way Sam had looked at the obsidian shard with such naked, desperate longing.
SAM DID NOT WANT POWER, the God laughed. HE WANTED RELIEF. HE WANTED TO BE MORE THAN THE DUST HE WAS BORN FROM. THE SHARD PROMISED HIM THE WORLD, AND ALL HE HAD TO DO WAS PROVIDE A BATTERY. A VESSEL STRONG ENOUGH TO CARRY MY CONSCIOUSNESS INTO THE LIGHT.
"He gave you me," Kael whispered.
HE GAVE ME THE ONLY THING IN THIS ERA THAT COULD SUSTAIN ME, the God agreed. YOUR CULTIVATION IS UNIQUE, KAEL. YOU DON'T JUST PULL MANA FROM THE AIR; YOU GENERATE IT FROM WITHIN. YOU ARE A LIVING STAR. BY BINDING MYSELF TO YOU, I CAN WALK THE EARTH WITHOUT DISSIPATING. I CAN TASTE THE AIR. I CAN FEEL THE PAIN.
The God's voice turned sharp, like a needle.
AND DO NOT BE FOOLED, LITTLE SUN. THE PAIN IS NECESSARY. THE 'STABLE AGONY' IS THE FRICTION BETWEEN OUR SOULS. EVERY TIME YOUR BONES BREAK, IT IS MY VOID TRYING TO EXPAND AND YOUR SUN TRYING TO HOLD IT BACK. WE ARE A PERPETUAL MOTION MACHINE OF SUFFERING. AS LONG AS YOU LIVE, I AM FREE. AND AS LONG AS I AM INSIDE YOU, YOU CANNOT DIE.
Kael looked down at the 'Reforged Sun' on his finger. The Star-Core was the only thing standing between him and total possession. If it failed, he wouldn't just be a Blood Weeper; he would be the Dark Moon incarnate.
"Is that why Sam is alive?" Kael asked. "Because you're waiting for me to break so you can take his 'Everlasting Wealth' for yourself?"
THE MERCHANT IS A TOOL, KAEL. HE IS THE ONE WHO OPENED THE DOOR, BUT HE IS TOO SMALL TO HOLD THE CROWN. HE THINKS HE HAS BOUGHT THE WORLD, BUT HE HAS ONLY BOUGHT A SEAT IN THE FRONT ROW OF THE APOCALYPSE.
Kael pushed himself away from the wall, his jaw set in a hard line. The dialogue had provided him with a terrifying clarity. He wasn't just fighting a traitor; he was fighting a cosmic parasitic cycle that had been in motion for a millennium.
"I'm not going to break," Kael said, his voice regaining its strength. "I'm going to reach the third floor. I'm going to take Sam's gold. And then, I'm going to find a way to put you back in the dark."
AN ADMIRABLE VOW, the God purred. BUT REMEMBER, KAEL... TO PUT ME IN THE DARK, YOU MUST EXTINGUISH YOUR OWN LIGHT. ARE YOU PREPARED TO BE THE END OF THE DAWN?
Kael didn't answer. He turned his back on the rippling obsidian walls and walked toward the end of the corridor.
The grey ash gave way to a floor of polished bone-white marble. The rib-like arches transitioned into pillars of dark gold. The air grew heavy with the scent of ozone and the rhythmic humming of high-level defensive wards.
He reached a set of massive, double doors etched with the seal of the Willer Guild—the golden coin and the green leaf. But here, the leaf was wilted, and the coin was weeping.
This was the entrance to the Third Floor. The "Forbidden Floor."
Kael looked at his reflection in the polished marble one last time. He saw the Blood Weeper—the gore-stained hood, the violet-gold eyes, the hand fused to a star.
"I am a healer," Kael whispered, more to himself than to the God.
He pushed the doors open.
The room beyond was a massive, circular atrium. But it was not filled with guards or mages. It was filled with statues.
Dozens of them. Men and women frozen in poses of absolute terror, their bodies turned into a dull, grey stone that looked like a mixture of volcanic ash and mana-conductive lead. They were the ones who had crossed Sam Willer—the rivals, the whistleblowers, the unlucky.
And at the center of the atrium, standing amongst the statues, was a figure in black plate armor, holding a halberd that glowed with a sickly green light.
"Welcome to the Gallery of the Silenced," the figure said, the voice muffled by a heavy helm.
Kael stepped into the room, the doors slamming shut behind him. The dialogue was over. The hunt had moved into its most dangerous phase.