Chapter 22: The Doorway to Oblivion

A deafening silence followed the blinding light.

Seraphine felt weightless, suspended in an endless void. Shadows stretched around her, writhing like living entities, whispering unintelligible words that sent a chill through her bones.

Then she felt the ground again.

The world came rushing back in a wave of cold air, her body slamming onto hard stone. A sharp pain lanced through her shoulder as she rolled onto her side, gasping.

She wasn't alone.

Eliam groaned somewhere nearby, the sound of his sword scraping against the floor as he pushed himself up. Valen, though shaken, had already crouched into a defensive stance, daggers ready.

The stone doorway behind them had vanished.

And before them lay an ancient chamber, far larger than the ruins they had left behind.

Towering pillars, etched with the same eerie runes, stretched into the darkness above. Blue flames flickered from sconces along the walls, casting unnatural shadows that seemed to move on their own.

The Forgotten Guardian was gone.

But something else had taken its place.

At the center of the chamber stood a raised platform, and upon it a throne.

A throne of obsidian, pulsating with a dull crimson glow.

And seated upon it was a figure draped in tattered black robes, motionless as a statue.

Then, without warning, the figure stirred.

A hand, skeletal yet pulsing with energy, gripped the armrest.

A voice, hollow yet thunderous, shattered the silence.

"At last… you have arrived."

Seraphine's pulse pounded in her ears.

This was no ordinary being. The sheer weight of its presence pressed against her soul, drowning her in an overwhelming sense of dread.

Eliam tightened his grip on his sword, his expression grim. "Who are you?"

The figure slowly rose from the throne, its robes shifting like liquid shadow.

"I am the first," it intoned. "The Forsaken One. The Architect of the Hollow Path."

Seraphine's breath hitched. "The Hollow Path…"

The Forsaken One's glowing eyes fixed on her. "You bear the mark, child. The Hollow One has chosen you, just as it chose me… long ago."

A deep chill settled in Seraphine's chest.

She had always known the power inside her was dangerous. But now, she was face-to-face with what it could become.

Valen's voice cut through the thick air. "If you were chosen, why are you here? Trapped in this place?"

The Forsaken One let out a sound that could have been a laugh or a sigh.

"Because I failed."

Eliam stiffened. "Failed?"

The Forsaken One slowly stepped down from the platform. With each step, the runes on the pillars brightened, as if feeding off its presence.

"The Hollow One grants power. But it also demands sacrifice. I could not pay the price. So I was cast into the abyss."

Seraphine's mind raced.

Was this her fate? To be used, discarded, and forgotten?

She shook her head. "I won't end up like you."

The Forsaken One tilted its head. "They all say that."

The temperature in the chamber dropped. The shadows thickened. The Forsaken One extended a hand. "Come. Let me show you the truth of your path."

Seraphine hesitated.

Then, before she could respond

The chamber trembled.

A deafening boom echoed through the walls.

Valen swore, stepping back. "What now?"

The Forsaken One turned, its glowing eyes narrowing. "They have found us."

Eliam exchanged a wary glance with Seraphine. "Who?"

A low, guttural snarl answered him.

From the darkness beyond the pillars, creatures began to emerge.

Not Shades.

Not men.

But twisted, malformed horrors beings of writhing limbs and hollow, gaping maws, their bodies stitched together from shadow and bone.

Seraphine's stomach twisted. "What are those things?"

The Forsaken One did not flinch. "The Remnants. They are what's left of those who failed the Hollow Path."

Eliam stepped in front of Seraphine, his blade glowing with divine light. "They don't look friendly."

Valen twirled his daggers. "I say we cut them down first, ask questions later."

The Forsaken One's gaze lingered on Seraphine. "Make your choice, child. Stand and fight… or embrace your fate."

Seraphine clenched her fists.

She wasn't ready to be a puppet.

She wasn't ready to be another forgotten soul in this cursed place.

She lifted her hand, the markings on her arm flaring with raw power.

"I make my own fate."

The creatures lunged

And the battle began.