The Lost Fortress

The Stormborn Warship surged out of hyperspace, its energy field crackling as it tore through the void. Inside, the newly freed warriors sat in tense silence, their thoughts heavy with uncertainty. They had won their freedom, but now came the harder part—figuring out what to do with it.

Kael stood at the ship's command deck, staring at the holographic projection of Zepharion. The planet was almost invisible against the blackness of space, its surface dark and scarred, shrouded in a permanent storm.

"You sure about this?" Veyra's voice was calm, but her arms were crossed, her stance stiff. She was skeptical, and Kael couldn't blame her.

"This isn't a guess," Kael said, tapping the display. "The warship's archives had a record of this place. It was a fortress world—a stronghold for the Awakened before the Dominion wiped us from history. If anything is still out there, it's here."

Ryven, sitting on the edge of a console, chewed on the last piece of a ration bar. "You realize what you're saying, right? We're flying straight into a 'lost' world that—by all logic—should have been wiped off the map."

"Exactly," Kael said. "Which means the Dominion never found it."

Ryven shook his head. "Or they did and decided to leave it alone because something on that rock wasn't worth poking."

Veyra exhaled sharply. "We don't have time for paranoia. If we want to build an army, we need weapons, allies, something more than a single warship and a bunch of freed fighters." She looked at Kael. "You're sure?"

Kael clenched his fists. "I know what I felt when I accessed the ship's archives. Zepharion isn't just some wasteland. It was where the Stormborn gathered before the fall. If we want to win this war, we need to see what's left."

Veyra studied him for a moment before nodding. "Then we go."

Kael turned toward the navigation panel, syncing the ship's trajectory with the ancient storm routes stored in the archives. As soon as the ship aligned itself with Zepharion's coordinates, something inside Kael shifted.

A presence.

It was faint, distant, but watching.

The warship jolted slightly as they entered the planet's outer atmosphere. The storm that had once protected Zepharion was still active, swirling with chaotic energy, lightning flashing like battle cries from the past.

Then Kael saw it.

The fortress.

It was massive—a towering structure of blackened metal and stone, its foundations carved into the jagged mountains. The outer walls were cracked and worn, but they still stood, resisting time itself. Giant pillars surrounded the main entrance, each one carved with figures of warriors, their forms wreathed in lightning.

Kael's heart pounded.

These weren't just statues.

They were Stormborn.

And Zepharion wasn't just a ruin.

It was a sanctuary.

The ship's scanners flickered, struggling to get clear readings. Energy signatures pulsed from within the structure, but they were distorted, fragmented, as if the fortress itself was resisting detection.

Veyra frowned. "That's not normal."

Kael nodded. "Someone's still here."

Ryven groaned. "Of course they are. Because that would just be too easy."

As the ship drew closer, a sudden pulse of energy erupted from the fortress, slamming into the warship's shields with enough force to rattle the entire vessel. Systems flickered. Lights dimmed. The engines stuttered for a full two seconds before stabilizing.

And then—a voice.

It came through the comms, distorted by static but booming with authority.

"Who dares trespass on sacred ground?"

Every console on the bridge flared with energy, as if something—someone—was scanning the entire ship. Kael clenched his fists, feeling the storm around the fortress react to his presence.

This place wasn't dead.

It was waiting.

Kael took a breath and stepped forward. He had felt this energy before—not just in the warship, but in himself. The voice wasn't just a warning. It was a test.

"This is Kael Ardyn," he said, his voice steady. "I am Awakened. I carry the Stormborn's power, and I've come to claim what was lost."

The static on the comms hissed, then fell silent.

Then, the gates of the fortress began to open.

A deep rumble shook the ground as the massive metal doors peeled apart, revealing a passage into the darkened interior. The energy signatures inside spiked—not hostile, but active.

Kael exhaled.

"Looks like we're going in," he muttered.

Ryven groaned. "Yeah, because walking into ominous, ancient fortresses never goes wrong."

Veyra ignored him. "We bring a small team. If something goes wrong, we need the ship ready to extract us."

Kael nodded, already choosing who would go.

Veyra. Ryven. Three of the strongest Awakened warriors they had freed from the coliseum.

Together, they descended from the warship, stepping onto Zepharion's surface for the first time. The air was thick with static, the storm roaring above them, but there was something else—something buried deep beneath the surface, something alive.

Kael took the first step toward the fortress. The others followed.

The moment they crossed the threshold, the doors slammed shut behind them.

And the darkness swallowed them whole.

The passage led deeper than they had expected, descending through ancient halls lined with glowing veins of energy embedded in the walls. The deeper they went, the more Kael felt it—the echoes of power that had once surged through this place.

Then, at the end of the corridor, they reached a vast chamber.

And waiting for them wasn't just ruins.

It was a throne.

At the center of the chamber, a massive seat of blackened metal stood, wreathed in arcs of dormant electricity. Carved into its surface were symbols of the Stormborn, their history preserved in silent, untouched detail.

Kael stepped forward, drawn to the power.

That was when the shadows moved.

A figure stepped from the darkness, tall and clad in battle-scarred armor, their presence commanding the very air around them. Their face was hidden behind a metal mask, but Kael could feel the weight of their gaze.

They weren't a ghost.

They weren't a relic.

They were alive.

And then they spoke.

"You are not the first to seek the Throne."

Kael didn't move.

The figure raised a hand, and the entire chamber came alive with energy.

"Prove that you are worthy of it."

The trial had begun.