Chapter 4: The Fractured Seal

---

The silence following the collapse of the dimensional battlefield was unbearable. Eden stumbled backward, boots scraping against the fragmented remains of a nonexistent floor, held together by threads of fraying reality. Above, the sky, if it could be called that, resembled shattered glass—cracks stretching into an infinite void, glowing faintly with sickly violet light.

Azrael stood motionless, golden eyes locked onto the hovering, fractured Shard, which pulsed erratically like a dying heartbeat. His expression, usually unreadable and smug, had twisted into one of pure dread.

"Explain," Eden demanded, voice hoarse, his throat still feeling the sting of Azrael's earlier blade.

Azrael's response was delayed, eyes flickering with uncertainty. Finally, he whispered, "It shouldn't be breaking. Not yet."

"Not yet?" Eden echoed, his voice rising. "So you knew it would?!"

Before Azrael could reply, a low rumble resonated beneath their feet—or where their feet should have been. The void around them shifted. Chunks of broken spatial fragments tumbled like debris in a storm. Then came the noise—a grotesque, wet, slithering sound from the cracks.

Eden's instincts screamed. His hand instinctively summoned a sigil, tracing a barrier midair. A shimmering blue hexagonal dome snapped into place around him. The next moment, a grotesque tendril, black and red, laced with glowing veins, lashed out from a crack and struck his barrier, causing spiderweb cracks to appear.

Azrael cursed under his breath, stepping back. "It's already reaching through."

Eden narrowed his eyes. "It?"

Azrael didn't answer.

The tendril retreated, leaving behind a viscous, black ichor sizzling against the fragmented space. The scent of iron and decay permeated the air. Eden's stomach churned slightly at the sheer wrongness of it, but his mercenary instincts refused to falter.

Then came the laughter.

It was subtle at first, like distant wind chimes, but quickly warped into a guttural, warped chuckle echoing all around them. It didn't sound human. It didn't sound alive. It sounded like madness given voice.

"Comedic timing is spot on," Eden muttered dryly, shaking his head even as his heart pounded.

Azrael, surprisingly, cracked a smirk. "Still cracking jokes in the face of death? That's why I liked you."

Eden's eyes didn't leave the swirling cracks. "I never agreed to be liked."

Their momentary banter was cut short as the cracked sky bled. Literally. Thick rivulets of blood seeped from the fractures, dripping into the void. Every drop that landed caused the space beneath it to warp violently, bending light and physics alike.

"What the hell is this?" Eden whispered.

Azrael's voice dropped into a serious tone. "The prison's weakening. Faster than I feared."

"Then fix it."

Azrael shook his head. "If I could, I wouldn't have needed you."

Eden's eyes flickered. The implications were heavier than the air around them. Azrael needed him. Not just as a player in the Wager—but as a key.

A sudden pulse from the Shard drew their attention. The crack widened, and from within, something stirred. Multiple tendrils. Grotesque eyes. And amidst it, a humanoid silhouette bound by chains, struggling.

It smiled. Blood oozed from its eyes as it whispered, "Found you."

Eden's barrier shattered.

Azrael and Eden barely dodged as a tendril lashed out, cleaving through the space they had occupied. Eden tumbled midair, landing against a fragment of broken reality.

"You gonna tell me what that is?" Eden hissed.

Azrael's gaze darkened. "The true purpose of the Wager. It was never to crown a victor. It was to keep that sealed."

"And it wants me?" Eden said incredulously.

Azrael's nod was grim. "You're its key."

Eden groaned. "Of course I am."

Another tendril lunged, barely missing Eden's throat. He ducked and countered with a surge of raw magic, tearing it apart midair. The severed piece thrashed and dissolved into the void, leaving behind a foul stench.

"Guess I'll have to play along then," Eden muttered. His hand glowed as layers of complex sigils ignited around his arm.

Azrael readied himself beside Eden. "Try not to die. I'd hate to lose my favorite key."

Eden chuckled bitterly. "You have terrible taste."

Without another word, the two launched themselves into the chaos, ready to survive or die trying.

---

Eden barely had a moment to breathe before the void twisted again. The imprisoned entity within the Shard strained against its chains, the grotesque laughter intensifying, reverberating through the fragmented dimension like a warped hymn of madness.

Azrael moved first. His form blurred as he weaved a series of sigils midair, each glowing with a golden hue before merging into a single arcane circle. "Containment first," he muttered, hands steady despite the sheer power radiating from the cracks.

Eden scoffed, flicking a hand upward. Tendrils of silver energy erupted from his palm, wrapping around a lunging appendage and freezing it mid-motion. "You sure that's gonna work?"

Azrael didn't reply immediately. Instead, he thrust his hand forward, his sigils expanding and slamming into the widening fracture. The golden light briefly forced the void back, momentarily stabilizing the prison.

A guttural growl rippled through the space.

The chains binding the entity rattled violently. The more they resisted, the more they cracked, their once-impenetrable structure now vulnerable.

Eden clenched his jaw. This wasn't just about keeping something in anymore. The Wager, the battles, the entire competition—was it all just a distraction? A system built not for glory, but to ensure this thing stayed locked away?

"Azrael, tell me this isn't what I think it is."

Azrael's response was sharp. "It is."

"Damn it."

Another rupture. A fresh tendril exploded outward, shattering what little stability remained in the void's architecture. Eden twisted midair, evading its grasp, only to be met with a second appendage lunging from his blind spot.

He reacted instinctively. A burst of raw force erupted from his body, forcing the entity's limb backward. But it was adapting—learning. Where he had torn it before, new tendrils had already begun sprouting.

Azrael's sigils flickered dangerously. He clicked his tongue. "We're out of time."

Eden's gaze darkened. "Then we need a different approach."

He didn't wait for approval. His hands shot outward, forming intricate symbols faster than human perception could follow. The air around him crackled as runes stacked upon one another, condensing into a single, spiraling spear of energy. Unlike before, this wasn't just a defensive maneuver—it was an execution.

Azrael's eyes widened. "Eden, wait—"

Too late.

Eden launched the spear directly at the entity's bound form. The air warped as the attack tore through the void, a streak of pure destruction aimed to end whatever lay in wait beyond the fractures.

The moment the spear connected, the prison reacted.

A scream—inhuman, agonized, aware—erupted from the entity. The dimensional cracks expanded instead of retreating, the Shard's broken edges pulsating violently.

The spear had not destroyed the prisoner.

It had awakened it.

Eden's pupils shrank. "Oh, hell."

The world around them shattered.

The prison collapsed inward, dragging both him and Azrael into an abyss beyond mortal comprehension.

---

Eden's breath caught as he plummeted into the abyss, surrounded by flickering remnants of a collapsed reality. The fabric of space itself unraveled around him, unraveling like tattered silk, exposing a swirling maelstrom of nightmarish geometries. Gravity meant nothing here—up, down, left, right, all blurred as abstract notions.

Yet Eden's instincts remained razor-sharp.

He twisted mid-fall, steadying himself with streaks of magic beneath his feet, manifesting an ephemeral platform. His eyes scanned wildly. Azrael spun through the chaos a few meters away, struggling to regain composure, golden light sputtering from his disrupted sigils.

The abyss was alive.

Tendrils, thousands this time, squirmed and writhed in the distance like monstrous roots searching for prey. Between them, countless eyes blinked in and out of existence, observing, analyzing, hungry.

Eden forced a bitter chuckle. "This just keeps getting better."

Azrael finally stabilized, gliding toward Eden, his expression grim. "We've breached the Second Layer."

"Second Layer?" Eden parroted. "How many layers are there?"

Azrael's hesitation spoke volumes. "...More than enough to kill gods."

Eden's heart sank.

The duo barely had a moment to plan as one of the tendrils, thicker than a cathedral spire, lunged toward them. Eden's blade manifested midair, forged from a fusion of steel and raw ether. He met the tendril's strike head-on.

The collision echoed like the death knell of a star. Eden was thrown back, smashing into a floating shard of crystalline debris. His ribs cracked audibly, pain flaring through him.

Azrael, meanwhile, countered with calculated precision, erecting a hexagonal wall of celestial runes. It absorbed the impact, but only barely—the sigils visibly warped and buckled.

Eden pushed himself up, coughing blood. "Tell me there's a plan."

Azrael nodded reluctantly. "The prisoner isn't fully awake yet. Its influence is stronger in this layer, but if we can find the Seal Core, we can restore at least partial containment."

"Seal Core?"

"The heart of the prison. Without it, this entire dimension will collapse."

Before Eden could respond, a pulse resonated through the abyss. Space warped inward, revealing a monolithic fortress-like structure floating amidst the chaos, bathed in crimson light. Tendrils curled around it, but none pierced its barrier.

"That's it," Azrael confirmed. "But reaching it…"

"…means surviving all this," Eden finished.

Another wave of laughter, guttural and warped, reverberated through the abyss. Eden gritted his teeth, forcing himself to his feet.

"Then we better get moving before your favorite key snaps."

Azrael smirked weakly. "After you."

Together, they plunged deeper into the abyss, the fortress looming like a distant salvation—or a cruel joke.

---

Eden and Azrael traversed the abyss, leaping from floating fragments of broken dimensions and crumbling platforms. The air thickened with corrupted mana, suffocating and clinging like tar. Every breath felt like inhaling liquid dread.

Yet neither flinched.

The crimson fortress pulsed steadily ahead, both an invitation and a warning. Around it, tendrils coiled and uncoiled with predatory patience.

"Watch your step," Azrael warned, pointing to a thin fissure in the space ahead. Eden squinted and saw it — an imperceptible ripple. Without warning, a black, serpentine tendril snapped upward, tearing through where Eden would've landed.

Eden cursed, adjusting mid-air. "You couldn't have mentioned that before I jumped?"

Azrael's slight smirk was the closest thing to amusement Eden had seen from him since this ordeal began.

The deeper they ventured, the more warped the scenery became. Skulls embedded in broken pillars watched them, whispering fragmented prayers. Rivers of crimson energy flowed upward instead of down, defying gravity as they bled from fractures in the dimension.

"Azrael…" Eden's tone was tight. "What kind of seal needs this kind of neighborhood?"

Azrael's response was unsettlingly calm. "One meant to imprison something that even the Sovereign Gods feared."

Before Eden could question further, another tendril surged forth, thicker and faster. This one wasn't probing — it knew. Eden met it with his blade, only for the tendril to split into several smaller whips mid-strike.

His instincts barely saved him.

With a desperate pivot, Eden parried two, ducked the third, and cast a reactionary spell. Silver glyphs flared to life beneath his feet, forming a blast that shredded the immediate tendrils but cost him most of his mana.

Azrael didn't fare much better. His defensive sigils were cracking under the relentless assault.

"They're protecting the fortress," Azrael deduced between heavy breaths. "Whatever's inside... they don't want us reaching it."

Eden gritted his teeth, eyes scanning the chaotic abyss. "Or it doesn't want to be re-sealed."

Without warning, the fortress itself shifted. Its colossal doors groaned open, emitting a low, guttural moan. From within, a blinding pulse erupted, disintegrating nearby tendrils and leaving behind only cinders.

Both men shielded their eyes.

When the light faded, a lone figure stood at the gate. Cloaked in rags, featureless, faceless — yet unmistakably aware.

Azrael whispered, "No… That's impossible."

Eden's hand tightened around his blade. "Care to explain?"

"That's a Warden. A keeper of the Seal. They were all supposed to be long gone."

The Warden raised a hand, beckoning them forward with slow, deliberate motion.

Eden frowned. "It wants us to come closer?"

Azrael hesitated. "Or it's the only thing standing between us and total annihilation."

Either way, the decision was made.

Together, they stepped toward the fortress.

---

Eden and Azrael approached cautiously, every step on the warped stone bridge toward the fortress feeling like a gamble with fate. The Warden, motionless, stood before the open gate, tendrils curling harmlessly around its feet as if even the abyss recognized its authority.

The closer they came, the more details revealed themselves. The Warden's rags were stitched with ancient runes, pulsating faintly with dying light. Its faceless head tilted slightly, tracking them without eyes, mouth, or expression.

Eden whispered, "So… do we say hi or stab it?"

Azrael replied under his breath, "You stab it, and we die. Instantly."

The Warden finally moved. Its arm extended, revealing a rusted lantern swinging gently. Inside, a fragment of pure light flickered weakly. It raised the lantern toward them.

Without words, Azrael bowed, prompting Eden to follow.

"You're kidding," Eden muttered but lowered his head nonetheless.

A faint chime echoed.

The Warden stepped aside, granting them passage.

Inside the fortress, the atmosphere shifted. Gone was the chaotic abyss. The interior resembled a ruined cathedral, colossal and crumbling. Stained glass windows depicted scenes of godlike beings sealing away a monstrous mass — the very creature Eden had seen bound earlier.

Azrael's voice trembled slightly. "This is... the heart of the Seal."

Eden nodded, eyes locked on the distant altar. Floating above it was a jagged crystal — the Seal Core — barely intact, cracked and leaking streams of energy into the void.

As they moved deeper, the Warden followed silently, its lantern illuminating faded murals along the walls. Eden noticed symbols eerily similar to those of the Eternal Dominion itself.

"Azrael," Eden murmured, "is this whole damn competition tied to this thing?"

Azrael clenched his fists. "It always was. The Dominion isn't just a ranking game. It's a containment system."

Before they could process the revelation, a heavy impact rocked the cathedral.

From behind, the abyss breached the fortress walls, and tendrils flooded in, unrestrained. The Warden's lantern flared, burning some to ash, but many pushed through.

Eden drew his blade again. "Guess the tour's over."

Azrael's eyes focused on the Seal Core. "We can't run. We stabilize the core or everything falls."

Eden smirked, cracked knuckles echoing through the ruined hall. "Good. I needed to hit something."

With the Warden standing beside them, Eden and Azrael prepared for the next wave of abominations.

The fight to restore the Seal—and possibly the truth behind the Eternal Dominion itself—was about to begin.

---

Eden inhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders as the first wave of tendrils lashed toward them. Time slowed, instincts sharpening to a razor's edge. With a flick of his wrist, his ether-forged blade hummed to life, cleaving through the first attack. The severed appendage disintegrated into black mist before reforming anew.

"They regenerate," he muttered. "Of course they do."

Azrael was already weaving a defensive barrier, layers of celestial glyphs forming an intricate shield. The tendrils slammed against it, shattering upon impact, but the sheer number was overwhelming.

The Warden, still silent, raised its lantern.

A pulse of golden fire erupted outward, incinerating a section of the invading mass. Eden took the opportunity to lunge forward, closing the gap between himself and the Seal Core.

Azrael called out, "We need to stabilize it before—"

He never finished.

A low, guttural laugh reverberated through the chamber.

Eden skidded to a halt. The air thickened, the weight of something immense pressing down. From the abyssal breach, a figure emerged—not a tendril, not a formless horror, but something worse.

A man.

Or what had once been a man.

Towering, draped in decayed ceremonial robes, his face was obscured by an obsidian mask with a single vertical slit. The aura around him was suffocating, far beyond anything Eden had felt before.

Azrael cursed under his breath. "A High Inquisitor."

Eden glanced at him. "A what now?"

"The last line of enforcers of the Dominion." Azrael's expression was grim. "They don't belong to any world. They exist solely to ensure the cycle continues."

The masked figure raised his hand. A massive scythe, forged from fragmented reality itself, materialized in his grip. The abyss around him shuddered in obedience.

Then, he spoke. His voice was a whisper laced with the weight of countless dying worlds.

"The Seal must remain… broken."

The words sent a chill through Eden's spine. The abyss wasn't just breaching the Seal—it was being helped.

Eden tightened his grip on his sword. "Yeah? Well, I say we glue it back together."

The Inquisitor tilted his head, as if amused.

And then he vanished.

A breath later, Eden barely managed to parry as the scythe came down with catastrophic force. The ground beneath them exploded, sending shockwaves rippling outward. Eden was launched backward, slamming into the cathedral walls.

Azrael barely dodged the follow-up strike, retaliating with a barrage of divine chains. The Inquisitor swatted them aside as if they were mere cobwebs.

The Warden, still clutching its lantern, stepped forward.

It raised its hand.

A bell tolled.

The fortress trembled as golden light surged from the Seal Core, momentarily pushing back the abyss. The Inquisitor hissed, recoiling. For the first time, something akin to frustration flickered in his stance.

Eden groaned, picking himself up. His body screamed in protest, but he forced himself forward. "So, what's the play?"

Azrael's eyes darted to the Core. "We hold the line while the Warden resets the Seal. If we fail—"

The Inquisitor moved again. This time, he wasn't alone. More figures emerged from the darkness, each one draped in shattered remains of their past selves. Former champions, twisted by the abyss.

Eden spat blood and cracked his knuckles.

"Good. I was starting to think this would be too easy."

---

Eden lunged forward, blade flashing as he closed the distance between him and the corrupted champions. Each opponent was once a world-renowned warrior, now marionettes of the abyss, their movements a grotesque mimicry of their former skill.

The first of them, draped in the tattered remnants of a knight's regalia, wielded a broken greatsword. Eden ducked under a wide swing and countered with a precise slash across the champion's chest. To his dismay, no blood spilled — instead, black mist oozed out, reforming the wound as though he had merely struck fog.

Azrael shouted from behind, "Aim for the core! The corruption sustains them."

Eden's eyes narrowed. Embedded deep within the knight's exposed chest, a sliver of crimson light pulsed weakly. Without hesitation, Eden vaulted off a shattered pillar, driving his blade into the exposed core. The knight convulsed, emitting a distorted, metallic screech before collapsing into nothingness.

More champions surged forward.

Azrael unleashed a volley of radiant chains, latching onto a dual-wielding berserker whose arms resembled fused blades. The Warden, unfazed by the chaos, continued its slow, deliberate chant before the Seal Core, sustaining the barrier as cracks continued to spiderweb across it.

The Inquisitor watched patiently, scythe resting lazily over his shoulder. His confidence unsettled Eden.

Between dodging death and countering the corrupted, Eden noticed it — the Inquisitor wasn't interfering. He was observing, studying.

"What is he waiting for?" Eden growled, ducking under a halberd swipe.

Azrael grimaced. "He's letting the Seal break naturally. Every second counts."

The cathedral shook violently. A fissure split the ceiling, revealing swirling void above. From it, massive tendrils threatened to break through.

Suddenly, the Warden faltered. Its lantern flickered. The Seal Core's golden glow dimmed.

Azrael's eyes widened. "The Seal's weakening too fast! Eden—"

Before he could finish, the Inquisitor blurred forward. Inhumanly fast, he appeared behind Azrael, scythe already mid-swing.

Eden didn't think. He moved.

Time warped as Eden intercepted the strike, steel meeting raw abyssal force. The clash sent Eden crashing through the cathedral's floor, landing hard in the catacombs below.

Debris rained from above.

The Inquisitor hovered in the opening, staring down with detached amusement. "Mortal resolve. Admirable. Futile."

Azrael roared, golden chains erupting from every direction, ensnaring the Inquisitor for mere seconds. Eden struggled to his feet, coughing blood.

In the depths, he noticed something. Amidst the rubble, a shattered mural depicted the Eternal Dominion itself — but beneath the layers of paint, Eden could just make out another symbol.

A serpent devouring its own tail, encircling a radiant core.

Eden's eyes widened. "It's… a second seal?"

Before he could react further, tendrils poured into the catacombs, hunting him like starved predators.

Up above, Azrael fought desperately, and the Warden's chant grew weaker.

Eden wiped the blood from his mouth. "Guess I found the hard mode."

And with that, he readied himself for the oncoming tide.

---

Eden barely had time to breathe before the first tendril lashed out from the shadows, its movement unnervingly precise. He twisted his body mid-dodge, feeling the sickening brush of abyssal energy graze his arm. The air itself felt heavier, thick with the presence of something old, something that did not belong in this reality.

He landed in a crouch, sword raised. The catacombs were vast and suffocating, endless murals and ruined altars stretching into darkness. Above, the battle still raged—Azrael's shouts and the reverberation of clashing forces reminded him that time was against him.

The abyssal tendrils moved again, converging like a nest of starving vipers. Eden exhaled sharply, and this time, he didn't retreat.

With a single step, he burst forward, blade cleaving through the first wave. The tendrils shrieked as they were severed, but instead of dissipating, they twisted, reforming into something worse.

Eyes. Rows of them.

A grotesque fusion of limbs and pulsating orbs slithered from the ruined walls, its shape writhing in defiance of logic. It was not just a creature. It was an extension of the abyss itself, a manifestation of the corruption taking hold of the Seal.

Eden had fought horrors before. He had seen eldritch beasts and entities that defied comprehension. But something about this thing was different.

It knew him.

The countless eyes fixated on him in unison, and for a brief moment, Eden felt an invasive presence claw at his mind.

A voice—no, a chorus of whispers—filled his skull.

"You are unbound by fate."

"You should not exist."

"Why do you struggle?"

Eden gritted his teeth, shoving the voices aside. "Because I hate being told what to do."

He surged forward, sword igniting in a blaze of silver light. The entity recoiled slightly, but it did not retreat.

Instead, it laughed.

The walls trembled as its form expanded, abyssal energy flooding the chamber. It was no mindless beast. It had intent.

And Eden realized it wasn't just here to kill him.

It was here to consume him.

The moment of hesitation cost him. A tendril struck his side, sending him sprawling across the stone floor. Pain flared through his ribs, but he rolled with the momentum, narrowly avoiding another strike aimed for his head.

Breath ragged, Eden wiped the blood from his lip. His usual cocky grin was absent.

This wasn't just another fight.

This was something far worse.

And above, the Seal continued to fracture.

---

Eden spat blood and pushed himself up, muscles screaming in protest. The abyssal entity loomed over him, shifting and warping like a sentient nightmare. The voices in his head clawed at his thoughts, trying to burrow deeper.

"You are an anomaly."

"Your existence defies the order."

"Surrender."

Eden wiped his mouth and rolled his shoulders. "You talk too much."

The creature responded by lashing out. Tendrils of void energy coiled toward him, but this time, Eden was ready. He sidestepped, ducked low, and then—

He struck.

His blade flared with silver fire, cleaving through the writhing mass. The entity screeched as the holy energy seared its form, parts of it disintegrating into nothingness. But Eden wasn't fooled—this wasn't a foe that could be killed easily.

From above, the sound of battle intensified. The Warden's chanting wavered, the Seal's glow flickering dangerously. Azrael's voice rang out, laced with urgency. "Eden! We're running out of time!"

Eden's mind raced. If this thing was an extension of the abyss itself, it wasn't just an enemy—it was a tether, a corruption anchor. Destroying it might not be enough. He needed to sever it from this reality.

But how?

The answer came in a flash.

The mural. The ouroboros-like symbol, hidden beneath layers of age and ruin.

It's not just a second seal.

It's a failsafe.

Gritting his teeth, Eden shifted tactics. Instead of fighting, he moved toward the collapsed mural. The entity reacted violently, sensing his intent. The shadows thickened, the catacombs groaning under their weight.

It knew what he was about to do.

Tendrils lashed at him from all sides. Eden weaved through them, barely dodging as his blade spun in intricate arcs, carving a desperate path forward. But it wasn't enough. There were too many. He wouldn't make it in time.

Unless—

"Azrael!" Eden roared. "Channel everything you've got into my blade!"

Above, Azrael didn't hesitate. A surge of divine energy crackled through the air, streaking down like a comet. Eden caught it mid-stride, his weapon igniting with raw celestial fire.

With a final burst of speed, Eden drove his blade into the heart of the ancient mural.

The moment steel met stone, the entire chamber shook.

A shockwave of golden light erupted outward, consuming the abyssal entity in an instant. It shrieked—an unnatural, mind-rending wail—before being ripped apart, vanishing into nothingness. The tendrils writhed, then disintegrated.

Above, the Warden's lantern flared, and the Seal Core stabilized.

Silence followed.

Eden exhaled, slumping against the ruined wall. His vision blurred, exhaustion slamming into him like a warhammer.

Then, from above, the slow, measured clap of hands.

Eden's heart sank.

The Inquisitor stood at the edge of the catacomb breach, scythe gleaming in the dim light. His masked face betrayed no emotion, but his voice was tinged with amusement.

"Well played."

Eden forced himself upright, every instinct screaming that the fight wasn't over.

The Inquisitor tilted his head. "But tell me… Do you truly believe you've won?"

The cathedral trembled once more.

And then, the true horror began.

---

The air thickened, a suffocating wave of abyssal energy pressing down on Eden's battered frame. Despite the destruction of the corruption anchor, the Seal Core continued to pulse erratically. Eden's eyes darted upwards, locking onto the Inquisitor, who now hovered ominously, his silhouette warped by the swirling void behind him.

Azrael leapt down beside Eden, eyes ablaze with radiant light. "The Seal's reaction—it wasn't supposed to do this!"

The Inquisitor's scythe spun lazily at his side. "Fascinating, isn't it? The failsafe you triggered was meant for one of the Seven Fragments of the Dominion, not for the True Seal." He spread his arms mockingly. "You've accelerated the inevitable."

Before Eden could react, the shattered mural beneath his feet fractured further, revealing a hidden chamber below. From within, an oppressive, ancient power seeped out—a pulsating mass of abyssal tendrils and corrupted machinery, meshing like the organs of some colossal beast.

Azrael's expression paled. "That's… an Abyssal Engine. I thought those were myths."

The Inquisitor chuckled. "Oh, they were. Until now."

The Abyssal Engine churned to life. Every pulse threatened to rip the cathedral apart, and reality itself seemed to bend under its influence. Above, the Seal cracked open fully, creating a rift that stretched far into the starless void.

Tendrils lashed out, not mindlessly, but with purpose, targeting the cathedral's supports, the Warden's weakened defenses, and even the fragmented spirits of the fallen champions.

Eden clenched his fists, staggering to his feet. "What happens if that thing activates fully?"

Azrael's voice was grim. "Not just this world, but dozens will collapse into the Abyss."

Eden exhaled sharply. "So we can't just break it. We need to shut it down."

The Inquisitor descended, floating a few meters above them. "And therein lies your final trial." He gestured to the Engine. "Survive this night, and perhaps you might live long enough to witness the true Dominion."

Without warning, the entire chamber became a battlefield. The Abyssal Engine vomited forth monstrous constructs—half-machine, half-abomination. Eden and Azrael fought side by side, each strike coordinated, each dodge executed with deadly precision.

Azrael's chains wove radiant barriers, halting the advance of the Abyssal constructs, while Eden's blade carved a desperate path toward the Engine's core. Time lost meaning as the two warriors pressed forward, their bodies pushed beyond mortal limits.

The Inquisitor remained passive, merely observing.

Finally, Eden reached the heart of the Engine—a crystalline structure pulsating with corrupted energy. Without hesitation, he plunged his blade deep into its core.

A scream—not from the Inquisitor, not from the constructs—but from the Engine itself, echoed across dimensions. The shockwave shattered the remaining constructs and expelled the abyssal influence from the cathedral.

The rift above sealed, the tendrils disintegrated, and silence returned.

Eden collapsed to one knee, exhausted but triumphant.

The Inquisitor's mask seemed to smile. "You bought yourselves time." He stepped back into the shadows. "But remember—this was merely a prelude."

Azrael helped Eden to his feet. "We stopped it. For now."

Eden's gaze hardened. "Then we find the next Engine before it's too late."

As the ruined cathedral stood quiet under the fractured sky, the scent of burning corruption fading, one thing became clear—

The game had truly begun.