Pr1maryT1nkerer

In a world on the brink of destruction, Thalos Arctur, a once-powerless warrior, is thrust into a battle between light and dark. Gifted with a power beyond mortal understanding, he must confront the ancient and malevolent force known as the Harbinger of the Abyss, whose goal is to consume the very soul of the world. As the war between gods and mortals rages, Thalos’ journey becomes a path of self-discovery and immense sacrifice.

Bound to a destiny he never chose, Thalos struggles with the growing temptation of abyssal power that threatens to turn him into a weapon of destruction. But his resolve is tested when Eryndra, a fierce and loyal companion, helps him realize that true strength lies not in embracing darkness but in resisting it. Together, they fight to protect the fragile balance of their world, while uncovering the horrifying secrets that bind their fates together.

As battles intensify and the lines between good and evil blur, Thalos must decide whether to accept the Abyss and become its ruler, or defy it and risk his own soul. The outcome will decide not only his future but the fate of all who live in the shadow of the Rift. With friends, enemies, and ancient powers surrounding him, Thalos stands at the precipice of something far greater than he could have ever imagined.

A story of forbidden power, loyalty, and the cost of becoming a hero.

Forgotten king

The Warden of the Rift stood before them—a being of shifting void, its form barely stable in the mortal realm. Its presence distorted reality, bending the ruins of Vasthral around it like a nightmare leaking into the waking world.

Eryndra tightened her grip on her sword.

The celestial flames flickering along its edge dimmed for a heartbeat.

Even she wasn't immune to the weight of it.

It was a judge, an enforcer, a remnant of something far older than even the gods.

And its gaze was locked on Thalos.

"You were given purpose," the Warden's voice echoed, more felt than heard. "You belong to the Rift."

She stepped in front of Thalos, sword raised, defying something that should not be defied.

"Not anymore." Her voice was steel. "He is not yours."

The Warden tilted its head, its shifting form pulsating with unnatural stillness.

A thousand tendrils of void lashed out at once.

Eryndra reacted purely on instinct.

She slashed through the first, ducked beneath the second—but there were too many.

One coiled around her wrist, another around her ankle, pulling hard.

She grit her teeth and tried to sever them, but the void was already crawling up her arm, burning cold against her skin.

With a single swing of his blade, he cut through the tendrils binding her, grabbing her arm before she could fall.

And for the first time since his return—

Not the hollow puppet the Rift had twisted him into.

Not the Harbinger that had slaughtered kingdoms.

The Warden moved without hesitation.

A blade of pure abyss formed in its hand—black, shifting, a weapon that existed between worlds.

The impact sent a shockwave through the ruins, shattering what little remained of the palace.

She lunged at the Warden's exposed side, her sword burning with celestial fury.

It reeled back, its form flickering, unraveling for a brief second.

A sword tainted by the Rift itself.

Two opposing forces—both aimed at the same enemy.

Its form twisted violently, the wound in its side pulsing with unstable energy.

The air still crackled with the remnants of battle.

Eryndra stood motionless, her breath unsteady.

His sword was still raised, but his hands were shaking.

The Rift's influence still clawed at him—a war not yet won.

And, for the first time since his return, she reached for him.

But as the woman who had never stopped searching for him.

Chapter 43: The Chains of Fate