The Void Stirs
Beneath the Citadel, where no light dares to exist, the Void pulsed. It wasn't a place—it was a presence. A heartbeat older than existence, one that called only to Darius.
He stood in the center of the spiral chamber, where reality thinned and threads of anti-matter unraveled like hair in water. Black mist curled around his boots. The floor wasn't stone. It was a conceptual boundary—a stitched seam in the universe.
A voice rose.
> "You've tasted dominion. You've wielded love. You've broken laws made by gods and men alike.
And still... you bleed.
Why do you resist what you were always meant to become?"
He didn't answer.
Because he couldn't deny it any longer.
Something inside him wanted to let go.
The Ghost Returns
Then—Kaela appeared.
Not through portal, not from shadow.
She simply was.
Her form shimmered, wavering between spectral and solid. Hair flowing like chaotic mist, eyes glowing violet with sorrow and defiance.
"Darius," she whispered.
He froze.
