The Price of Standing Alone
The Academy groaned beneath the weight of chaos.
Fires burned in every direction—blue, green, and gold, some alive with mana, others crawling with necrotic curseflames. The very walls twisted from stray magic, stone reforming into jagged spikes or melting like wax under pressure.
Above all that noise, above the screams, above the thundering of summoned beasts and collapsing towers—stood him.
A man draped in cursed regalia, his burnt hand still glowing with the residue of high-level forbidden spells.
His name had long been stripped from the records.
They called him: The Hollow Prophet.
[Unsealed Entity Detected – Tier: EX | Classification: World Threat | Level ???][Recommended Action: FLEE IMMEDIATELY]
The system's warning echoed like thunder in Riven's mind.
But he didn't move.
He couldn't—not with Lira standing just ahead of him, eyes locked onto the Hollow Prophet's form. Her dual-colored irises glowed so brightly they lit the soot-filled air like twin moons.
"You... shouldn't exist," the Prophet rasped. "Chaosborn are not meant to awaken yet."
"I didn't ask for your permission," Lira replied calmly, though her hands trembled.
Riven stepped beside her, sword in hand, his own aura swirling into shape—a jagged blend of flame and void, reacting to the merged presence of his sister's opposing classes.
The Hollow Prophet tilted his head. "Interesting. You're stabilizing. But do you truly think merging the Saint and the Necromancer gives you the right to interfere with prophecy?"
He raised a single finger.
A pulse of black lightning burst toward them.
Riven stepped in front of Lira.
[Active Skill: Voidstep – Engaged][Damage Mitigated: 68%]
He grunted as the strike grazed his side, but his footing held. "You want prophecy?" he spat. "I'll give you one. You're going to regret crawling out of whatever pit spat you out."
The Hollow Prophet smiled. "Arrogant little spark."
With a wave of his arm, the battlefield warped. The ground twisted, lifting into malformed platforms and collapsing towers. Debris spun in controlled orbits, forming a battlefield shaped by intent, not nature.
Riven and Lira were isolated.
So were their opponents.
One of the Sleepless Ones descended beside the Prophet—its limbs chittering, face a spiraled mass of runes. A Void Herald.
[Mini-Boss Encounter – Herald of the Forgotten Void][Caution: It feeds on mana and faith-based skills]
Lira's eyes narrowed. "Then I'll use something it doesn't recognize."
She stepped forward, raising her arms.
Light and shadow flared behind her, merging into an unstable halo. Her voice rang with double resonance, one soft and warm, the other cold and ancient.
"Saint's Will: Grace of the Boundless.""Necromancer's Pact: Mark of the Black Cross."
A symbol formed beneath her—part sigil, part glyph, part brand.
The Void Herald shrieked.
It lunged.
Before it reached her, skeletal chains erupted from the ground, dragging the creature mid-leap into a trap circle glowing silver-black.
[Unique Skill Unlocked: Chain of Duality – Binds enemies that fall under conflicting alignment resistances]
"Riven, now!" she called.
He moved.
His sword ignited with crimson-blue flame—the mark of his own growth.
[Skill Fusion Achieved: Ember Edge + Voidcarve = Duskbrand Slash]
He leapt, blade arcing downward like a falling star.
With a single clean strike, he severed the Herald's body through the core.
The beast let out a final, haunting wail before dissolving into fragments of broken code and corrupted mana.
[Mini-Boss Defeated – EXP +6,500][Loot Acquired: Fragment of Null, Abyss-Slick Bone, Forgotten Soul Remnant]
The Hollow Prophet didn't move.
He only watched, eyes narrowing. "So you're further along than I thought."
He snapped his fingers.
The sky responded.
A massive sigil opened above the Academy, black and gold in design, etched in lines that shimmered with something older than mana.
And from it... descended chains.
Not metaphorical ones.
Real, gleaming chains as wide as streets and engraved with commands in ancient dialects. They weren't meant to bind people.
They were meant to bind worlds.
[World Seal Initiated – Targeting Chaosborne Signature][WARNING: Seal Type = Dimensional Collapse | Time to Impact: 03:00 minutes]
Riven felt it.
The entire world pressing down on them.
Trees turned grey. Magic fields cracked. The distant sun above looked like it had grown smaller.
They were being compressed. Reality itself was being folded around them like paper.
"RUN!" the Librarian's voice rang in their minds through a comm rune. "That's a World Chain! It'll erase the entire area and seal the memory of it from existence!"
Lira didn't move. "If we run, others die."
Riven's fists clenched. "If we die, they still die. We need to think."
But Lira stared up at the chain.
And slowly... she smiled.
"I think I can stop it."
"Stop it?" Riven turned. "You barely finished merging your classes. We don't even know the cost of what just happened in the Vault!"
She looked at him, a small tear tracing her cheek. "I'm not saying I'll win. I'm saying... I can stop it. Just long enough."
"No."
"Riven—"
"No!" he barked. "We do this together. We always do this together."
Lira stared at him.
Then slowly... she nodded.
And smiled again.
"I knew you'd say that."
She stepped back beside him.
Together, they raised their hands.
Together, they cast their final gambit.
"Dual Invocation: Eclipse Judgment."
Light and death twisted.
A sun of silver fire formed between their palms, wrapped in bones and feathers, spinning faster and faster until it burned brighter than the sky.
The Prophet raised his arm.
The World Chain descended.
They met.
Elsewhere – Unknown Realm
Far away, beyond the veil of perception, a figure cloaked in infinity turned toward the surge.
They watched the clash of chaos and order from beyond time.
"Ah," the figure said, voice like fractured crystal. "The twins have begun."
They reached for a tome bound in paradox and opened it to a blank page.
A title wrote itself.
"The Last Chapter of Fate."
Beneath it, two names burned into reality.
Riven.Lira.
The figure smiled.
"The game begins anew."