Chapter 76: The Chamber of the Forgotten Eye

At the heart of a hollow mountain sculpted into unnatural angles stood the Chamber of the Forgotten Eye the Seers' sanctum, untouched by time, reality, or even light.

Luxurious in a way only mad gods would deem opulent, the chamber was vast and circular, its walls lined with floating tendrils of encoded memory, whispering the past and the future into one indistinguishable chorus.

At its center: a raised obsidian dais bearing five thrones of voidstone and bloodsteel. Four were filled.

The fifth larger, loftier, wreathed in ancient, pulsating crystal stood empty.

The Throne of the Grand Blind One.

Long abandoned. Not forgotten.

That throne was flanked by two Grand Faceless Sentinels, their armor fused with reality-distortion fields and mind-barricades, their forms both humanoid and insectile modified beyond comprehension. They stood perfectly still, like statues bound to the will of their unseen master.

The four Seers who remained bore their own twisted regalia. Robes of silken star-flesh. Crowns of fossilized minds. Their blind, red eyes glowed as they gazed upon the shifting holographic projection of the ongoing confrontation outside the Pyramid of Entry.

The standoff between Ruthen's Thal'karn kill-squad and the Faceless warrior.

None of the Seers spoke for what felt like hours. Then, finally, the eldest his skin translucent, his jaw distended and tongue composed of coiled sensory wires hissed a single thought across the room:

"They call themselves the Mahasimu. The Ancient Shadows."

"They feel… diminished."

The second Seer's voice cracked like broken glass.

"They once fed on empires… now they send pets."

The third laughed, a chorus of shrill, overlapping frequencies.

"Shall we test their conviction? Press the void-flesh they pretend still binds fear?"

But the fourth, quietest, stared at the empty throne and whispered:

"Let us not act yet. The Grand Blind One may be watching. And if not… he will soon."

Voidspire – Upper Command Deck

Far away, aboard the Voidspire, Vaelora stood rigid before the holotable, Ruthen's face appearing in the ether like a wraith.

"High Lady. I've made contact. Dakarie is speaking with one of the Faceless Kings"

Before she could finish, the transmission froze.

From the side of the holopit, a voice like a dying star rumbled:

"It is already being handled."

Malgus.

He stepped forward from the shadowed command alcove beside Queen Suama, his cybernetic frame gleaming dimly beneath the bloodlight of the hangar beacons.

"We have tolerated the whispers of the Seers long enough," he said, jaw twitching beneath his respirator.

"Let them be reminded why the galaxy still shivers when our name is spoken."

Suama raised a finger. One gesture. One command.

And across the darkstar's inner sanctum, sealed vaults hissed open.

Out marched ten Shadow Troopers, flanked by a single handler in ceremonial onyx garb. Behind them, carried on gravitational tethers, was a massive obsidian cage pulsing with chained runes and dripping shadow ooze from its seams.

Inside, something moved. Something ancient. Something wrong.

The Shadow Beast Handler tilted her head toward Malgus.

"The beast is ready. She has not been unbound since before the Sundering."

The beast within the cage let out a scream that cracked the air, a sound of hunger layered with languages never spoken by mortals.

Even the Thal'karn handlers nearby took a step back.

Suama's lips curled.

"Let the Grand Blind One remember," she whispered.

"Let all of them remember."

The ancient transport, forged from warsteel and soul-anchors, launched at lightspeed, trailing dark ripples in its wake as it hurtled toward Jha'mor'ak, bearing:

Ten elite Shadow Troopers

The Handler

The caged shadow beast that made even the Thal'karn whimper

Its destination: the very doorstep of the Seers' sacred pyramid.