The coordinates from the Ember Warden led them to a voidless stretch of cosmic silence.
No stars.
No gravity.
No light.
Only one thing existed in the dark: a planet that wasn't on any map. It floated like a wound in space, half-cracked open, pulsing with a heartbeat that didn't belong to any living thing.
Aeris hovered above its atmosphere, the Nightingale's engines whimpering under pressure that shouldn't exist.
"This place…" she whispered. "It's not alive. It's remembering."
Kaelen stepped closer to the viewport. "Or forgetting."
The Hollow Planet.
Once a sanctuary of the Ember Line — now reduced to an echoing maze of lost thoughts, broken timelines, and memory storms.
The first Ember Key was buried somewhere beneath its crust.
And Lyra would find it.
The moment she stepped onto the surface, her flame dimmed.
Not extinguished — muted. Like it didn't want to draw attention.
The air was heavy with silence. Cities jutted from the earth like the bones of forgotten titans, structures half-melted by time itself. Spires leaned toward the sky like they were listening for something.
Riven scanned the surroundings. "This Realm is wrong. My own memories are… shifting."
Sera shivered. "I keep hearing voices that sound like me, but they're not saying things I remember."
Kaelen turned to Lyra. "We stay linked. No one strays."
But Lyra was already moving.
The pull came from deep below.
She descended into the hollow layers of the planet, through shattered cathedrals and bridges made from crystallized thoughts — frozen mid-sentence. Whispers echoed around her, fragments of minds that had once lived here.
"It's too bright… turn it off… please…"
"I remember the fire… but not the warmth…"
"She burned too long… she forgot herself…"
As Lyra reached the lowest chamber, she found the heart of the planet — a massive, obsidian sphere wrapped in veins of ember-light.
And floating in the center…
An Ember Key.
It wasn't a physical object. It was a truth, condensed. A memory of the First Flame, shaped into form.
It hovered, flickering.
But as she reached for it, the shadows twisted.
The planet screamed.
Memory-storms surged from the walls — rivers of past lives, tangled timelines, and looping griefs. Lyra's vision blurred.
Suddenly, she stood in Veymar again.
The day her mother died.
Only this time, she didn't.
Her mother stood in the doorway, alive, smiling.
"My little ember, stay," she whispered. "We have time now."
It felt real.
The fire within her wavered.
Then burned hotter.
"No," Lyra said, stepping back. "This already happened, I can't lose myself here."
The illusion fractured.
The Ember Key pulsed once, as if testing her.
Then a new vision struck.
This time, Kaelen — twisted, corrupted, bearing the Void's mark. And he turned his blade toward her, saying, "You were never strong enough."
She clenched her fists "Even if I wasn't… I am now."
The illusion broke again.
And this time, the shadows screamed.
The chamber collapsed.
The Hollow Planet fought back.
But Lyra reached through the storm, her flame roaring again. Not as a weapon — but as a beacon.
She grabbed the Ember Key.
It fused with her chest in a burst of searing light.
And in that moment, she saw it — a brief glimpse.
A map.
Seven burning points across the Realms.
One down, Six to go.
She collapsed to her knees as the storm ceased.
Around her, the chamber began to fall apart. The planet no longer had purpose. It had guarded the Key for eons — now, it let go.
Kaelen found her and helped her to her feet.
"You alright?"
Lyra nodded, her eyes glowing faintly.
"I remember something that wasn't mine. Something from before even the Realms."
Riven looked at her cautiously "Your body's changing, The Key fused with you."
"I know."
On the Nightingale, Aeris stared at the readings.
"She's not just a flamebearer anymore."
Sera whispered, "What is she then?"
Aeris exhaled slowly.
"She's becoming the Ember Vessel."
Back in the Dreadspire, the Seventh General felt the surge.
She rose from her chair of shadow, hand trembling slightly.
"She has one."
The Void-King turned his gaze toward the Hollow Planet, now crumbling into cosmic dust.
"She moves faster than I thought."
"Shall I stop her?" the General asked.
He said nothing for a long moment.
Then, "No. Let her burn."
He turned.
"I want to see how bright she can get before I put her flame out."