Chapter 6

The Prison of Frozen Time

The Descent into Madness

The Celestial Drake shuddered as it exited the warp stream, its hull groaning under the strain of an unnatural gravity well. Before them hung The Chronos Vault, a derelict space station orbiting a dead star. Its surface pulsed with eerie blue light—time itself had fractured here, bending in unnatural loops.

Lira Veyne adjusted the holographic display, her fingers trembling. "Sylas' signal is coming from inside. But according to these readings... he's been broadcasting the same distress call for three hundred years."

Kael gripped the Starborn sigil around his neck, its warmth flaring in response to the station's energy. "How is that possible?"

The Drake's voice rumbled through the ship, its dragon-core flickering. "Time does not flow within the Vault. It is a prison where moments repeat like broken echoes."

Captain Ryn cursed, checking her plasma pistol. "So we're walking into a place where reality's busted. Fantastic."

Kael exhaled. "If Sylas is alive in there, we're getting him out."

The Time-Locked Halls

The boarding pod latched onto the Vault's airlock with a metallic clang. The moment the doors opened, the crew was hit with a wave of déjà vu. The corridors stretched endlessly, repeating the same turns, the same flickering lights, the same bloodstains on the walls.

Lira's breath fogged in the cold air. "This is a Vorthax experiment. They trapped their prisoners in loops of their worst memories."

A distant scream echoed. Then, like a rewinding holotape, it cut off—and repeated.

Ryn's cybernetic eye glitched. "My systems are going haywire. This place is eating time."

Kael's sigil pulsed. He saw flashes:

A man in Astral Order armor, fighting biomechanical horrors.

A blade plunged into a machine's core.

A voice screaming, "IT'S NOT OVER!"

Then, silence.

A figure stood at the end of the hall.

Sylas Veyne.

His armor was cracked, his eyes hollow. He raised his sword—and the world reset.

Suddenly, they were back at the airlock. Sylas was gone.

Lira's face paled. "He's stuck in the loop."

Breaking the Cycle

The crew fought through repeating corridors, each reset bringing them closer to Sylas' final stand. Kael's Starborn energy burned hotter with each cycle, as if the prison recognized him.

Finally, they reached the core chamber.

Sylas stood in the center, surrounded by frozen Vorthax Reapers. His sword was lodged in a time-lock device, its gears grinding endlessly.

"STAY BACK!" he roared—then the loop reset.

Kael lunged forward before the cycle could restart. His sigil flared white, and for a split second, time held still.

Sylas' eyes locked onto his. "You… you're Starborn."

Kael grabbed the time-lock device. "We're getting you out!"

The moment he touched it, visions exploded in his mind:

A battlefield littered with corpses.

The Vorthax Emperor whispering, "The God-Engine hungers."

Sylas sealing his own power away, erasing his memories to hide from them.

The device shattered.

Time lurched forward.

Sylas collapsed, gasping. The Reapers unfroze.

The Hollow Prophet's Voice

The crew fought their way back to the ship, Sylas stumbling between them. As the Drake detached, the Vault imploded, swallowed by a black hole of broken time.

In the med-bay, Sylas gripped Kael's arm. "The Vorthax… they're not just harvesting souls. They're feeding them to the God-Engine."

Lira's voice cracked. "You knew? All this time, you knew?"

Before Sylas could answer, the ship's comms hissed to life.

A distorted voice filled the room:

"KAEL ARDENT. YOU HAVE AWAKENED WHAT SHOULD HAVE REMAINED ASLEEP."

The Hollow Prophet.

"THE FORGE AWAITS ITS MASTER. COME. LET US SEE IF YOU ARE WORTHY."

The transmission cut out—along with the Drake's engines.

Silence.

Then, the ship began to fall.