Chapter 2: The Gathering of Shadows
Ripples of the Claim
---
A violet sun burned across the fractured sky. Its twisted light crawled over the jagged remains of the arena, where stone still bore the echoes of battle. The Dominion had long withdrawn its presence, but the air remained thick with the weight of what had transpired.
At the heart of the desolation stood Eden D. Souldrake.
His dark hair clung to his sweat-drenched forehead, and the fabric of his torn combat gear fluttered against the rising winds. Blood had dried along the scorched edges of his arms, but the ache of his wounds was inconsequential.
The Claim had been made.
The Dominion's judgment was absolute. The knowledge of Krathos — twisted, corrupted, and incomplete — now lingered within his mind like a brand. Every memory was fragmented, flashes of a world devoured by its own ambition.
> Strength without self.
Power without purpose.
He could still hear the whispers of the Dominion. Not words, but the echo of a thousand minds devoured and discarded.
And yet, that knowledge was now his.
---
"You were a fool."
The voice came sharp and cold.
Renka stood at the ruined edge of the arena, her silver hair catching the pale violet glow. The lingering essence of the Dominion stirred the air around her, though she remained unmoved. Her golden eyes, hardened from a lifetime of war, locked onto Eden with unwavering resolve.
"You had the right to claim anything. Reinforcements. Resources. Weapons beyond comprehension." Her jaw clenched. "But instead, you asked for knowledge?"
Eden's gaze did not waver. "And now I know what they fear."
Renka's expression twisted. "You think fear matters to them? The Dominion doesn't care. It doesn't feel."
"I'm not talking about the Dominion."
A tense silence settled between them.
Renka opened her mouth to retort, but the words never came. Instead, her hand instinctively moved to the silver pendant resting against her chest — the emblem of Eidrem. It pulsed faintly, a reminder of the fragile tether that still connected their fractured world to existence.
Their first victory had earned them a sliver of reprieve. But the Dominion's games were far from over.
---
The Wager demanded escalation.
And somewhere, in the countless dimensions beyond the fractured sky, the other worlds had already begun to watch.
---
The Eyes That Watch
Unseen and eternal, the vast network of the Dominion's observers stirred. Countless cloaked figures, their forms shrouded beneath violet-hued robes, gathered within the infinite expanse of the Nexus Spire.
They did not speak. They did not breathe.
Yet their presence thrummed — a silent cacophony of intent.
And at the heart of the Spire stood the Seer of Equilibrium, a towering figure adorned in chains of silver and violet. Its face was hidden beneath a cracked porcelain mask, the same as the Heralds who enforced the Dominion's will. But the eyes that gleamed from within that mask burned with something ancient.
A twisted amusement.
> "Eidrem's Champion has spoken."
The voice resonated without sound, rippling through the gathered Watchers.
> "He seeks knowledge. And knowledge shall break him."
None dared to question. The Seer's decree was law.
But deep within the shadows of the Spire, a single figure stirred. Unlike the others, it did not wear the violet robes of servitude. Its presence was sharp — predatory. A creature bound in obsidian chains, eyes gleaming like dying embers.
It did not speak.
But it watched.
And it waited.
---
The Ripples Begin
Back within the shattered arena, the Dominion's presence had all but faded. Yet Eden could feel the weight of his choice lingering. Every step he took felt heavier, as though the memories forced upon him still fought to consume his thoughts.
But he would not allow them.
"I assume the Nexus has already marked us." His voice broke the silence.
Renka scowled. "They started watching the moment you survived your first Trial."
"The first of many."
Eden's words were steady, but he could feel the tension within them. He knew the truth — the victory over Krathos had merely delayed the inevitable. The next challenge would come. Stronger. More calculated.
And now, the other worlds would be waiting. Studying.
> Watching him.
Renka's hand gripped the hilt of the twin sabers sheathed at her side. "So what now? You think we're just going to sit here and wait for the Dominion to send its next slaughter?"
Eden's eyes darkened. "No."
He turned, the fractured sky above him reflecting in the distant pools of violet mist that gathered along the ruined stone. The twisted remnants of the Krathos Champion had long since been erased. Nothing remained — no body, no trophy.
Only a reminder.
Eden's voice was cold.
"We prepare."
Renka's expression remained firm, but beneath the hardened exterior, there was something else. A spark of bitter determination.
"And when the next Trial comes?"
Eden's jaw tightened. The knowledge he had claimed still pulsed at the edge of his thoughts — a thousand fragmented truths, stitched together with the twisted threads of the Dominion's corruption.
"When it comes," he said slowly, "we won't be the ones on the defensive."
A storm gathered within his gaze.
"We'll be the ones they fear."
---
Echoes of the Wager
---
The violet sky still churned.
Though the Dominion's presence had faded, the air remained heavy — thick with the residue of the Claim. Cracks ran deep through the shattered arena, their edges glowing with the last embers of violet flame. The stone itself seemed scarred by the weight of the Trial, as if the world remembered the agony of its own submission.
At the center of it all, Eden D. Souldrake stood unmoved.
The Claim he had made was no longer just a decision — it was a ripple. One that spread beyond sight, igniting reactions across worlds and realms alike. Somewhere, in the farthest reaches of existence, the other participants had already begun to whisper.
> "The Champion of Eidrem has claimed knowledge."
"What is he planning?"
"Foolish. Reckless. Or perhaps… dangerous?"
But Eden did not need to hear their words to know their thoughts. He had already seen it in the memories.
> The fear.
The Dominion thrived on it. Even the most ruthless worlds played their part in this endless wager, but fear dictated their moves. A single loss could condemn entire civilizations. And for those who dared to defy the system, the price was far greater.
> Total annihilation.
Yet Eden had not asked for power. Not wealth. Not dominion.
Instead, he had sought knowledge.
And that, in itself, was enough to terrify them.
---
The Weight of the Claim
Renka's gaze never left him.
The silver-haired warrior's expression remained hard, her golden eyes reflecting the fractured light above. Though her body bore the signs of the previous battle — tattered armor, shallow wounds, dried blood — her stance was unwavering. She was a warrior of Eidrem, through and through.
But the resentment lingered.
"You saw it, didn't you?" Her voice was low, the weight of accusation beneath her words. "Whatever they showed you — it shook you."
Eden didn't deny it. The memories of Krathos still twisted through his mind, fragments of a world devoured by its own ambition. He could feel the twisted hunger that had consumed them, a desperation that had driven them into the Dominion's hands.
And in the end, there had been nothing left of them.
"I saw what the Dominion does to those who submit," Eden said, his voice even. "But I also saw what they fear."
Renka's fists tightened. "And that knowledge is supposed to save us?"
"It's the only thing that will."
For a moment, neither spoke. The distant hum of the Dominion's lingering energy whispered through the air, a constant reminder that they were never truly alone.
Then, with a reluctant sigh, Renka stepped forward.
"You're impossible."
Eden allowed a faint, bitter smile to tug at the corner of his lips. "I've been called worse."
---
The Nexus Stirs
Far beyond the ruins of the arena, the Dominion's influence stirred the fabric of existence.
The Nexus Spire—a twisted monument of violet crystal and blackened steel—loomed over the endless void. This was the heart of the Dominion's judgment, where worlds were measured and fates were sealed.
Within its hollow depths, the Seer of Equilibrium stood before the ever-turning Wheel of Wagers. The ancient mechanism spun without pause, its runes glowing with the essence of countless Claims. Each wager was a thread in the vast tapestry of existence, binding worlds to the eternal game.
And now, Eden's thread burned brightest.
> "The Champion has claimed knowledge."
The Seer's voice echoed through the Spire. From the shadows, robed figures observed in silence. Watchers. Heralds. Entities born from the Dominion's will, their purpose singular — to maintain the balance of the Infinite Wager.
But even they could not hide their curiosity.
> "Will he become a force of order, or will his defiance fracture the balance further?"
The Seer's porcelain mask betrayed no emotion. It did not need to. The Dominion did not act upon whims. It responded to the movements of its players.
And Eden had just made his opening move.
> "The Wager shall proceed."
The Wheel turned. The worlds awaited.
---
Echoes Across the Worlds
The ripples of Eden's Claim did not end within the Nexus.
Across countless realms, powerful rulers and champions stirred. The announcement of a Champion claiming knowledge — rather than the conventional powers of destruction or conquest — was not one easily ignored.
> "Eidrem's gamble is reckless."
> "Or is it cunning?"
> "A mercenary with no allegiance, no fear of consequence. What does he hope to gain?"
From the frozen peaks of Vael's Cradle to the endless, scorched sands of Ash'tharn, the name Eden D. Souldrake spread like wildfire. He was no longer just a mercenary — he was a variable.
And in the Dominion's game, variables were dangerous.
---
Within the Fractured Sky
Back in the ruined arena, the tension had begun to settle.
The remnants of violet mist coiled lazily around the jagged stone. The Trial was over, but the air remained thick with anticipation. Somewhere, the next Trial was already being prepared.
But for now, there was a moment of stillness.
Eden adjusted the torn edges of his black combat gear, the once-pristine fabric now scorched and stained. The sigil of Eidrem — a silver crescent entwined with a fractured star — remained etched across his chest. A symbol of a world that still stood, for now.
"Renka," he said quietly, his voice breaking through the silence.
She glanced at him, wary. "What is it?"
He held her gaze, the weight of his decision evident. "We need to gather the others."
Renka's expression darkened. "You think they'll follow you after this?"
"They don't have a choice."
The Dominion had marked them. Every action from now on would be scrutinized, their survival dependent on the strength of their alliances. And Eden knew that trust was a currency far more valuable than power.
"Whatever comes next," he continued, "we face it together."
Renka's scowl deepened, but she gave no further protest. There was nothing else to be said. The path had already been set.
Eden turned his gaze toward the distant sky, where cracks of violet still pulsed.
> The Wager had begun.
And this time, he would not allow the Dominion to dictate the terms.
---
The Chains That Bind
---
The crackling remnants of violet mist had begun to dissipate.
Though the Dominion's presence no longer lingered in its full force, the burden of its Claim still hung over the fractured arena. The crimson sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the battlefield as embers of violet flame smoldered beneath shattered stone.
Eden D. Souldrake could still hear the whispers.
> "The Champion has claimed knowledge."
The words echoed through his mind, yet no physical voice remained. The Dominion's messengers had vanished as swiftly as they had appeared, but the consequences of Eden's decision now stretched far beyond what was visible.
But there was no regret.
He stood firm amidst the ruin, the charred edges of his black combat gear barely swaying as the breeze dragged dust through the air. The once-pristine silver sigil of Eidrem on his chest was cracked and smeared with blood, yet it remained unbroken — much like the resolve in his sharp, crimson eyes.
> A Claim of knowledge.
Most participants would have sought strength. Weapons. Abilities. Authority. It was a natural choice — the Dominion rewarded the strong, and power had its undeniable allure.
But Eden had no desire to play their game by the rules they imposed.
> Knowledge was dangerous.
And in a world where the wagers of existence dictated survival, knowing what the Dominion feared most could change everything.
---
Renka's Silence
"You're sure about this?"
The question came low, almost begrudging. Renka's voice, though steady, was strained by disbelief. Her silver hair still clung to strands of sweat and soot, her golden eyes barely masking the storm of conflicted thoughts within. She was a warrior forged by battle, the weight of countless losses evident in the scars lining her pale skin.
And now, her world's survival was tethered to a man who had chosen the most unpredictable path.
"I'm not asking for your approval," Eden replied without hesitation. "Only your understanding."
Renka's lips tightened, but she said nothing.
Eden didn't expect her to.
He knew the burden of choices. As a mercenary, it had been his existence — killing, bargaining, surviving. Decisions without regret. No allegiance. No chains.
But this time was different.
He had made the choice not just for himself, but for the world that had unwillingly been forced into the Dominion's grasp. The weight of that reality clashed against Renka's warrior's pride.
> Eidrem had not fallen.
But victory had not come without a cost.
---
The Bonds of Dominion
The sigil on Eden's chest pulsed faintly.
Though the violet glow had dulled, its presence remained — a constant reminder of the Dominion's hold. Every Champion who made a Claim was branded, their existence entwined with the system that governed the Infinite Wager.
But the mark was more than mere symbolism.
> It was a chain.
Eden could feel its presence within him, a binding force etched into his very soul. The Dominion had its ways of enforcing compliance. Attempting to sever the connection would result in annihilation — a fate that had consumed many before him.
Still, the Dominion's grip was not absolute.
> Knowledge was a weapon.
And weapons could be turned against their creators.
Eden traced his fingers along the edge of the sigil. The Dominion's rules were layered, twisted into convoluted laws meant to ensure obedience. But there were cracks within their perfect system. Loopholes.
And he intended to find them all.
---
The Rift Beckons
A distant hum stirred the air.
Eden's gaze shifted, his eyes narrowing as a shimmering distortion pulsed within the ruins. It was subtle at first — a ripple that wavered like heat against the horizon. But the longer he watched, the more it expanded.
> A Rift.
The Dominion's influence allowed these fractures to manifest, serving as gateways between worlds. Unlike the Trials, which were carefully constructed, the Rifts were unpredictable — fragments of collapsed dimensions bleeding into the current reality.
And yet, they were invaluable.
Eden took a single step forward, the crunch of fractured stone beneath his boots breaking the stillness. His instincts sharpened. Rifts often concealed remnants of the fallen — memories, artifacts, knowledge.
> A perfect opportunity.
"Stay back."
Renka's voice rang out in warning, though it lacked its usual authority. She watched him warily, her hand lingering near the hilt of her blade. Despite the strain of their previous battle, the hardened resolve in her eyes remained.
"Do you think I'm reckless enough to dive in without reason?" Eden shot her a glance, amusement flickering in his tone.
"I think you're exactly that reckless," she countered, though the faintest shadow of a smirk betrayed her.
Eden chuckled softly. She wasn't wrong.
---
Into the Rift
As the Rift widened, fragments of its essence spilled into the air — faint strands of violet light twisting like ethereal veins. The sound it emitted was unnerving, a distorted resonance that seemed to vibrate directly through the soul.
But Eden did not hesitate.
With a final glance toward Renka, he stepped into the distortion.
The world twisted.
Colors bled into one another, the shattered ruins vanishing as the Rift consumed his presence. For a moment, there was only darkness — an endless, suffocating void.
Then, with a sudden pulse, the Rift spat him out.
Eden stumbled forward, his boots striking unfamiliar ground. The air was different here — heavier, laden with the distinct scent of scorched earth and stagnant ash. Jagged formations of black stone pierced the sky, their edges glowing faintly with veins of crimson light.
The remnants of a fallen world.
> A graveyard.
And yet, among the ruin, something stirred.
Eden's eyes gleamed.
---
The Relics of the Forgotten
---
The suffocating air bit at his lungs.
Eden D. Souldrake's crimson eyes scanned the desolation that surrounded him — twisted spires of blackened stone, their cracked edges glowing faintly with veins of molten crimson. The ground beneath his boots crumbled at the slightest pressure, scattering fine ash into the air. The Rift had thrown him into the remains of a world long devoured.
> A fallen dimension.
No sun graced the sky. Only an endless expanse of thick, swirling clouds loomed above, illuminated from below by the distant flicker of volcanic fissures. The occasional groan of fractured land echoed through the distance — a reminder that even in death, this world was restless.
But Eden did not flinch.
He had stood amidst countless ruins before. The ashes of failed worlds, the remnants of forgotten civilizations — none of it was unfamiliar. What separated this place, however, was the unmistakable presence lingering within the shadows.
> The Dominion had left its mark.
The violet pulse of corrupted energy twisted through the landscape like veins of cursed lightning. Unnatural formations protruded from the stone — jagged monoliths inscribed with shifting symbols. They pulsed faintly, as though whispering to the very fabric of the dimension.
> Seals.
Eden narrowed his gaze. These were no ordinary ruins.
---
The Weight of Knowledge
The Dominion's rules dictated that the victors reaped rewards, while the defeated worlds faced annihilation. Yet even in destruction, fragments of knowledge remained — echoes of civilizations erased from existence.
> Knowledge was power.
And in this shattered world, there was something the Dominion had failed to erase.
Eden's fingers grazed the hilt of his weapon — Oblivion's Verge — a gleaming black sword with a silver edge, pulsing faintly with restrained energy. He had no intention of wielding it just yet. The weight of the weapon served only as a reminder — a tether to his own power, should the shadows rise.
> But this was not a battlefield.
Not yet.
The Rift had brought him here for a reason. His Claim had set events in motion, and now the Dominion's influence rippled through the air like a watchful gaze. Whatever truth awaited him, it would not be freely given.
> Then again… when had anything ever come easily?
---
Echoes of the Fallen
The wind stirred, carrying faint whispers through the scorched air. Words that were not words — fragmented, hollow echoes. They passed through Eden like brittle shards, leaving a lingering chill in their wake.
> "Condemned. Forgotten. The Wager devours."
He ignored them.
Such echoes were remnants — fractured thoughts of the fallen, stripped of identity. They served no purpose but to haunt the ruins of their own demise. Yet their presence confirmed one thing:
This world had not simply fallen.
It had been claimed.
> But by whom?
Eden's steps were steady as he moved forward. His surroundings warped in fragments, the Rift's unstable influence causing moments of dissonance. Entire structures shifted in and out of existence — black towers crumbling and reforming, as though time itself could not decide their fate.
It was disorienting.
But Eden's mind, sharpened by years of mercenary instincts, remained unshaken. His crimson eyes remained locked on the fissures ahead — where the corruption was strongest.
---
The First Relic
At the heart of the ruins stood an obsidian monolith.
Unlike the others scattered across the wasteland, this one pulsed with a rhythmic light, as though it still clung to the last remnants of its purpose. Etched into its surface were countless symbols — twisting patterns that seemed to shift beneath Eden's gaze.
But it wasn't the monolith that held his attention.
At its base, partially buried beneath the cracked stone, lay a fractured piece of silver — a metallic shard no larger than his hand. It gleamed faintly, resisting the corruption that threatened to consume it.
> A relic.
Eden crouched low, his fingers tracing the jagged edges of the fragment. The moment his skin made contact, a sudden jolt shot through his arm. Visions cascaded through his mind — blurred images of towering structures, figures draped in silver robes, a sky fractured by violet lightning.
And then — the Wager.
A colossal arena. Worlds collapsing. Champions falling.
> "The Infinite Wager is absolute."
The words burned through his thoughts, echoing with the same twisted authority that had declared the Dominion's presence. Eden's breathing quickened, but his grip on the shard remained firm.
He had seen enough.
> This world's end was not the result of mere defeat.
The Dominion had ensured it.
But why? What threat had this world posed that even its knowledge had to be silenced?
---
Chains Unseen
Eden rose to his feet, the shard of silver still clutched tightly in his hand. The visions had left him with more questions than answers, yet there was one undeniable truth.
> The Dominion feared knowledge.
And if knowledge could inspire such fear, then it was precisely what he needed.
The sigil on his chest pulsed faintly once more — the Dominion's mark still bound to him. He could feel its weight, the presence of the system's watchful gaze. Yet even now, that gaze remained distant. The Dominion was patient. It believed in the inevitability of its own design.
> But Eden had no intention of playing the part it had written for him.
The path forward was clear.
He would find the forgotten knowledge. He would unravel the truth of the Infinite Wager. And when the Dominion's chains could no longer bind him —
> He would become the one they feared.
---
The Return from the Rift
---
The Rift resisted him.
As Eden D. Souldrake clenched the silver shard in his hand, its fractured surface gleamed faintly with a strange, cold light. The corrupted world around him groaned in protest. Shadows writhed and clung to the shattered monoliths like starving leeches. The Dominion's lingering presence refused to loosen its hold.
Yet Eden remained unmoved.
> A fallen world's curse is no different from the weight of its regrets.
The Rift quivered. Molten veins split the charred ground. Thick tendrils of dark mist swirled around his legs, hissing with unspoken hatred. Even in death, the will of this forsaken dimension clung to existence.
> It doesn't want to let me go.
A twisted sense of desperation — as though the world itself understood the cost of allowing him to leave.
But Eden's crimson eyes gleamed. He met the Rift's resistance with nothing but cold defiance.
> Let it try.
---
The Rift's Rebellion
The air thickened. Crackling violet energy surged through the desolate landscape, creating rippling distortions in the sky. The jagged ruins of the forgotten world twisted unnaturally, as though time itself convulsed in agony.
Then, without warning — the Rift struck.
A towering wave of obsidian mist exploded from the fractured earth, swirling with chaotic force. Tendrils lashed out, writhing like monstrous serpents. Each tendril screamed with the tormented echoes of a thousand forgotten souls.
> "Remain. Suffer. Despair."
The voices clawed at Eden's mind, gnawing at the edges of his sanity. They offered him glimpses of the world's ruin — the endless fall of kingdoms, the wails of the condemned.
> But Eden did not flinch.
His expression remained impassive. The weight of countless battles had left him immune to the intimidation of shadows. A mere whisper of despair could not break him.
> "You think this is enough?"
Eden's voice rang out, laced with scorn. The crimson gleam of his eyes sharpened as he raised his free hand. The shard in his grip pulsed, its silver light flaring in protest against the Rift's corruption.
The tendrils lunged.
But Eden had already moved.
---
Dominion's Mark
His form blurred. In an instant, the shadows passed through empty air. Eden's body twisted, his black coat whipping through the mist as he evaded the strike. The next tendril came faster — but he was faster still. His foot pressed against the fractured stone, launching him upward. The jagged edge of a collapsed pillar served as a platform, propelling him higher.
> Evasive movement.
> Zero wasted motion.
> Absolute control.
Eden's every step seemed effortless. Years of mercenary training had honed his instincts to perfection. Against beasts, demons, and corrupted dimensions alike — he moved as if fate itself obeyed his will.
But the Rift refused to surrender.
The air twisted violently. Another surge of violet energy erupted beneath him. A massive rift in space split open, forming a monstrous vortex that threatened to swallow him whole. The void churned, crackling with raw entropy.
> Dimensional collapse.
Even for Eden, direct exposure to such instability would be fatal.
Yet, amidst the chaos, a faint smile tugged at his lips.
> Perfect.
His left hand pressed against the glowing sigil on his chest — the mark of the Dominion. For a fleeting moment, the binding force flared with violet light. He could feel its oppressive gaze bearing down on him, demanding obedience.
But Eden answered that gaze with a single word.
> "Release."
The sigil's glow dimmed. The Dominion's control weakened. Though the mark remained, its influence no longer held absolute power. The Rift's own energy recoiled, confused.
And in that moment of hesitation —
Eden acted.
---
Oblivion's Verge
The black sword materialized in his hand — Oblivion's Verge. Its onyx blade reflected no light, as though it devoured the very essence of existence. A weapon born from the ashes of forgotten worlds, bound only to the one who had claimed it.
> "Condemn."
Eden's voice resonated with authority. The air trembled as the sword's presence spread like a devouring abyss.
The Rift's shadows howled in protest. But it was too late.
With a single slash, the obsidian mist was torn asunder. The twisted tendrils dissolved into nothingness, their screams silenced. The dimensional vortex collapsed upon itself, the unstable energy consumed by the void left in the sword's wake.
Eden descended. His feet touched the scorched ground, the air thick with the fading echoes of the Rift's defiance. The shard in his hand pulsed once more, as though acknowledging his triumph.
> It's over.
But as the Rift's influence waned, something stirred.
---
A Voice Beyond the Rift
A faint whisper.
> "You should not have come."
The words slithered through the air, devoid of emotion. Unlike the agonized cries of the Rift, this voice carried a chilling calmness. Eden's crimson gaze narrowed.
> Another presence.
But before he could respond, the shattered dimension trembled once more. This time, it was not in defiance — but in surrender. The Rift, defeated and spent, began its inevitable collapse. The fractured ruins crumbled. The air fractured into spiraling fragments of violet light.
> The world was ending.
Eden's expression remained unreadable. He had gained what he came for — the shard, and the knowledge it carried. There was no reason to linger.
> "Return."
The Dominion's mark flared once more. A violent surge of violet light engulfed him, twisting the air as the Rift's pull consumed him. The world of ash and regret vanished in an instant.
---
Back to Reality
Eden's vision blurred. The oppressive atmosphere of the Rift gave way to something far more familiar. Cold, sterile air. Gleaming metallic walls. The sound of distant machinery hummed softly.
He had returned.
The Dominion's transport platform surrounded him — a circular construct of obsidian and violet energy. Its intricate patterns shifted beneath his feet, dispersing the residual Rift energy that clung to him.
Eden remained still, his crimson eyes scanning his surroundings. The platform's attendants, faceless under their Dominion-issued helmets, bowed in silent acknowledgment. They dared not meet his gaze.
> Good.
He took a step forward, his presence alone enough to part the silent onlookers. Yet, even as the oppressive air of the Dominion's domain pressed down upon him, Eden's mind remained fixated on the fragment of silver in his possession.
> Knowledge forbidden.
> Secrets untold.
The Infinite Wager had begun. And if the Dominion believed it could control him —
> They would soon learn otherwise.
---
The Weight of the Dominion
---
Eden stepped forward.
The world around him reeked of submission. The polished obsidian walls gleamed with a violet hue, etched with countless runes of binding. Thin streams of energy pulsed along the dark metal floor, leading to towering pillars that pulsed like the veins of some ancient, slumbering beast.
This was the Dominion's Nexus.
A monument to the system's endless authority — a place where even the strongest were forced to bow.
> Yet Eden's gaze held no reverence.
He walked with an air of defiance, his black coat sweeping across the metallic floor. The crimson sigil embedded in his chest remained faintly illuminated, a constant reminder of the Dominion's binding power. The fragments of violet Rift energy still flickered around his form, only barely restrained by the Nexus' suppression field.
A cluster of attendants observed him from a distance, their featureless helmets betraying nothing. They dared not approach. Not without orders.
> Cowards.
Eden paid them no mind. He had faced monstrosities far greater than their trembling fear. And besides — he had something far more pressing to consider.
> The Shard.
The silver fragment pulsed faintly within his hand, its fractured surface radiating whispers of power. Whatever knowledge it carried, the Dominion would not allow him to keep it freely.
But Eden had no intention of asking for permission.
---
The Overseer's Arrival
The air shifted.
A low hum reverberated through the chamber, and from the distant archways, a column of armored figures emerged. Their heavy black armor gleamed with Dominion insignias — violet runes etched into their plated surfaces. Unlike the faceless attendants, these were warriors of the Overseer's Guard.
And leading them was the Overseer himself.
> "Eden D. Souldrake."
The voice echoed like grinding metal, amplified by the Nexus' countless mechanisms. The Overseer's armored form towered above the others, his polished obsidian helm reflecting nothing. Though his face remained concealed, the weight of his presence was undeniable.
But Eden did not bow.
> "You're late."
The Overseer's violet eyes flickered from beneath the helmet's slit. He did not react to the insult — not outwardly. The Dominion prided itself on restraint. Emotions were beneath them.
> But even they could not entirely suppress the hatred that lingered behind that stare.
> "You defy protocol. The Rift's instability exceeded the allotted limits. Explain yourself."
Eden smirked.
> "I brought back the Shard. Isn't that enough?"
He held up the fractured silver fragment. Its pulsing light illuminated the chamber, causing the armored guards to stiffen. Even the Overseer paused. The Shard's presence was undeniable.
> A fragment of a fallen world. A key to untold knowledge.
And knowledge, in the Dominion's eyes, was both a weapon and a threat.
---
The Tension Breaks
> "Your arrogance remains predictable."
The Overseer's voice grew colder.
> "The Shard is now property of the Dominion. Relinquish it."
Eden's fingers curled around the fragment. He felt its ancient presence pulse through his skin — a silent reminder of its significance. Handing it over would be simple. Expected.
But Eden was never one for expectations.
> "No."
The word echoed through the chamber like a challenge. The guards tensed. Runes flickered. The faint hum of containment fields surged in response, ready to suppress any act of rebellion.
Yet Eden did not move.
> "I retrieved it. I endured the Rift. The knowledge it holds is mine."
His voice was calm. Steady. Yet beneath that calmness was something sharper — a defiance that even the Dominion could not silence.
The Overseer's violet eyes burned.
> "You forget your place."
> "And you forget your limits."
The words struck like a blade. For a moment, the air crackled with unbearable tension. The guards gripped their weapons, the violet energy in their gauntlets flaring in preparation. The Nexus itself seemed to groan beneath the weight of the unspoken conflict.
Yet neither side made the first move.
---
A Subtle Shift
And then, without warning —
> The Overseer laughed.
A low, hollow chuckle. It echoed unnaturally through the chamber, reverberating against the Nexus' metallic walls. The sound held no warmth. Only amusement laced with venom.
> "Bold, even now. Truly, the number one mercenary lives up to his reputation."
The guards did not lower their weapons. But the Overseer raised a single gauntleted hand, and the violet energy that had gathered within the chamber began to fade.
> A temporary truce.
> "You may keep the Shard — for now."
The Overseer's voice retained its measured tone.
> "But remember, Souldrake. The Dominion has no tolerance for defiance. Your every step is watched. Your every act is recorded. Fail to comply, and your existence will be erased."
Eden's crimson eyes gleamed.
> "Then you'd better keep watching."
With that, he turned. The Shard pulsed once more in his grasp, as though in silent approval. The Overseer's gaze followed him, but no further words were exchanged. The tension lingered — a silent promise that this battle was far from over.
> And Eden would not have it any other way.
---
A New Path
As the massive steel doors of the Nexus slid open before him, Eden stepped into the endless metallic corridors of the Dominion's station. The air was colder here. Lifeless. The faint hum of machinery echoed endlessly.
Yet in his mind, the weight of the Shard burned brighter than ever.
> Knowledge.
> Power.
> A step closer to uncovering the truth behind the Infinite Wager.
Eden's journey had only begun.
> And the Dominion?
> They would learn soon enough.
---