The Lost Ones

The Voices of the Rift

The world beyond the Gate of Nihilor was not a place.

It was a memory of existence itself.

Ethan stepped forward, his golden-shadow aura flickering in the unnatural void.

The Rift didn't feel like an enemy.

Not yet.

It felt like a graveyard.

Then—the whispers started.

Hundreds of voices. Thousands.

Some were distant.

Some were too close.

Selene's spear pulsed with golden energy. "Something is here."

Mia tensed, gripping her daggers. "I hear them. They're everywhere."

Kieran's visor glitched violently. "No readings. No life signs. But we're not alone."

Ethan's eyes burned gold.

He felt them.

And then—they appeared.

Figures faded into view.

Not monsters.

People.

Some in armor. Some in rags.

Some in battle-worn cloaks—marked with symbols of the Rift.

Selene's breath hitched.

"These are… Riftborn."

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