CHAPTER 6: Chained Prophecies

The skies over Vault IX Academy hung low with thunder. Not natural thunder—this was something older, deeper, as if the world itself murmured warnings beneath the clouds.

Syra Kaelion tightened her fists as she stood outside the academy's reinforced gates. The burn scars along her shoulder, souvenirs from the Hellfire Monastery, pulsed in protest beneath her black jacket.

Beside her, Riven tapped the hilt of his curved blade impatiently. His silver eyes scanned the surrounding terrain like a wolf waiting for a trap to spring.

Riven: "You sure about this place? Smells like a setup."

Syra: "We need answers. And if the Vault keeps celestial records like they say... I'll burn through the archives myself."

Inside, the hallways of Vault IX looked like something out of a broken cathedral. Stone fused with steel, ancient scriptures carved into circuit-walls, flickering lights that pulsed in rhythm with magical wards.

At the far end of the main chamber stood Warden Kyros, the Academy's oldest living instructor. His face was pale, eyes crusted with unseen tears, as if he had just read the end of a tragedy written in real-time.

He stared at Syra for a long moment before speaking.

Kyros: "I thought I'd never see your father's eyes again."

Syra (quietly): "They died with him."

Kyros: "No... they live in you. But that's not always a gift."

He motioned them into a side hall, beneath which an ancient lift descended into the Vault's Prophetarium—an underground chamber built to house sealed scrolls, divine forecasts, and encrypted future-visions from lost oracles.

The doors hissed open.

Kyros: "This was built to protect the future. What you read in here may burn your soul. But you have the right to know."

Inside, the walls shimmered with runes. Blue flame danced in orbs overhead. Syra's gaze drifted toward one scroll, chained and encased in celestial glass. On its binding were etched three words:

THE SEVENTH BLADE

Riven (whispers): "That's your title... in Hell's prophecies."

Syra: "I never chose that name."

Kyros: "Prophecies don't care about choice. Only about echoes."

With trembling fingers, Syra reached toward the scroll—but the moment her skin brushed the glass, time itself broke.

She was no longer in the chamber. She stood instead in an ocean of stars. A broken moon hovered in the sky above, bleeding golden ichor. Before her—seven fragments of a key, circling a dying flame.

Voice (echoing): "You are the cipher. But the lock is older than the stars."

Syra: "Who are you?"

The flame twisted, forming the silhouette of a woman with wings of starlight.

Flame-Woman: "I am a memory left behind. You will face three betrayals. Only then will the first key reveal itself."

The flame shattered. Reality snapped back.

Syra collapsed to the stone floor of the chamber, gasping.

Riven: "Syra?!"

Kyros: "What did you see?!"

Syra (whispers): "Three betrayals... and I'm only on the first."

But before they could speak again, a tremor ran through the ground. Lights exploded overhead.

A mechanical voice boomed through the halls:

VAULT IX BREACH DETECTED. LEVEL SEVEN ENEMIES APPROACHING.

Kyros's eyes went wide. He drew a staff from the wall.

Kyros: "They're here. The Heralds of the Red Sigil."

The side doors burst open. Six cloaked figures stepped into the Prophetarium—each branded with burning tattoos, bearing weapons carved from demonbone and holy relics twisted into blades.

Riven drew his blade. Syra rose, flame building in her palms.

Riven: "Guess the future's not gonna wait."

The battle erupted in silence broken only by the roar of fire and steel.

Syra ducked beneath a demon-laced chain, sending a geyser of flame upward. She kicked one Herald into a wall, knocking loose ancient scrolls. Riven danced between shadows, slashing two of them down in a burst of spectral energy.

Kyros chanted ancient wards, holding the Vault's seals closed with what little power he had left. But blood leaked from his eyes—his time was near.

Kyros: "Take the scroll—go! Get out before the gate falls!"

But Syra hesitated.

Her father had once said: "Truth is only valuable if you survive long enough to act on it."

She nodded.

Riven lifted Kyros's weakened body. Syra snatched the chained scroll.

They ran, fire chasing their heels.

Behind them, the Prophetarium collapsed in a pillar of unholy flame.

Outside the Vault, Riven stared at her—at the scroll wrapped in chains and marked with blood.

Riven: "Still think this is just about keys?"

Syra: "No. This is about the rewrite. And we're all just ink."

High above the burning academy, unseen in the clouds, stood a man with gold in his mask and silence in his step.

Author.

He closed his eyes.

Author: "Now they've read the first draft. But the real story... begins with the betrayal yet to come."

Next Chapter: "The Mask That Watches"

Lucian's hunt begins. Syra is marked by the Watchers. The first betrayal takes root. And somewhere deep in the Echo Realms… a key begins to dream.