Chapter 16: Shards of the Past

The path etched into the ground glowed faintly, pulsing like a heartbeat with every step Kain took. The mist had thinned but hadn't disappeared entirely, clinging stubbornly to the jagged terrain. The air carried a metallic tang, the acrid scent of Etherial energy saturating the atmosphere.

Kain's new arm felt heavier now, a constant reminder of the shard's evolution. The veins of dark energy pulsing beneath his skin had begun to feel almost alive, like a second heartbeat in tune with his own. He flexed his fingers experimentally, the power coursing through them both exhilarating and unnerving.

Ahead, the path widened, revealing a sprawling battlefield. Crumbled weapons and shattered Etherial constructs littered the ground, their surfaces blackened and pitted from some ancient conflict. The air seemed thicker here, heavy with the weight of forgotten struggles.

Kain stopped at the edge of the field, his gaze scanning the horizon. The Codex Tower loomed larger now, its jagged spire reaching skyward like a claw tearing through the heavens. The shard in his chest pulsed harder, urging him onward.

"Patience," he muttered under his breath.

As if in response, the ground beneath his feet trembled. A deep rumble echoed through the Wastes, and Kain instinctively drew his blade, his eyes narrowing. From the rubble ahead, shadows began to shift, coalescing into humanoid forms.

At first, they appeared as little more than black silhouettes, but as they solidified, Kain's blood ran cold. The figures wore the fragmented remnants of armor, their bodies half-formed from Etherial energy and decayed flesh. Their faces—if they could be called that—were blank, save for glowing sockets where eyes should have been.

The shard whispered urgently. [Manifestations Detected. Origin: Residual Etherial Imprint. Threat Level: Moderate.]

Kain raised his blade, his posture tense. "Residual or not, they're in my way."

The closest figure lunged at him, its movements jerky and unnatural. Kain sidestepped easily, his blade flashing as he brought it down in a clean arc. The shadow dissipated with a faint hiss, its remnants sinking back into the ground.

But for every one he felled, more rose in its place. The battlefield seemed alive with movement, the fallen warriors of some long-forgotten war rising to challenge him.

Kain's Etherial arm surged with power, and he slammed it into the ground. Tendrils of dark energy erupted outward, ripping through the shadows with ruthless efficiency. The air crackled with energy as the constructs dissolved, their remnants drawn toward Kain's arm like moths to a flame.

[Energy Absorbed. Corruption Level: 36%. Combat Efficiency Enhanced.]

The shard's whispers grew louder, more insistent, but Kain pushed them to the back of his mind. The battlefield was clearing, the last of the shadows dissipating into the mist. But something about the fight left a sour taste in his mouth.

These weren't mere creatures of the Wastes. They were echoes—memories of a war that had scarred the land. And something, or someone, had drawn them to him.

"Not a coincidence," Kain muttered, scanning the horizon.

As if in answer, a figure emerged from the mist. Unlike the shadow constructs, this one was solid, its form draped in a flowing black cloak. Its face was obscured by a hood, but the faint glow of Etherial energy radiated from within.

Kain raised his blade. "If you're here to fight, I'm more than ready."

The figure didn't respond immediately. When it spoke, its voice was deep and resonant, laced with an otherworldly echo. "You tread a dangerous path, shard-bearer. The Wastes are not kind to those who seek power without purpose."

Kain's grip tightened. "And who are you to decide what's dangerous for me?"

The figure chuckled softly. "I am merely a watcher, one who remembers what came before. The shards of this world hold great power, but they also carry the weight of destruction. Will you wield it, or will it wield you?"

"I don't need lectures," Kain snapped. "I'll decide what to do with this power. Not you, not the shard, and certainly not some shadow hiding in the mist."

The figure tilted its head, as if considering Kain's words. "Bold. But boldness alone will not save you. The Codex Tower will test every part of you—mind, body, and soul. If you falter, it will consume you."

Before Kain could respond, the figure raised a hand, and the battlefield around them began to dissolve. The mist thickened, swirling into a vortex that swallowed the ruins and the shadowy constructs. Kain staggered, the ground beneath him vanishing.

When the world settled, he was standing in a different place entirely. The jagged terrain of the Wastes was gone, replaced by a vast expanse of white stone. Pillars stretched endlessly into the sky, their surfaces carved with glowing runes.

At the center of the expanse stood a massive door, its surface pulsing with Etherial energy. The shard in Kain's chest throbbed violently, its whispers merging with the hum of the door's power.

The figure's voice echoed faintly in his mind. "The door marks the first threshold. Beyond it lies the path to the Codex Tower. Prove yourself, shard-bearer, or be lost to the Wastes."

Kain stepped toward the door, his gaze hardening. Whatever lay ahead, he would face it. He had come too far to turn back now.

The shard pulsed one final time, and the door began to open.