The Rift That Divides All Things

They reached the Obsidian Rift by dusk.

It was a scar in the world — a jagged canyon carved by a war no one remembered and no history dared record. Lightning danced silently across the black stone walls, illuminating ancient runes and forgotten warnings.

Kael stood at the edge, eyes fixed on the chasm below.

 "So… this is where Elarys wants to end it," he said.

 "Or begin it," Liora replied, stepping beside him. "This place is more than just a battleground. It's where the First Vessel fell."

Kael turned. "You mean the original me?"

Liora nodded. "The true First. You're his reincarnation, not his continuation. The version of you that slept? He died here. Fighting something none of us understood."

 "And Elarys plans to finish what he started?" Sera asked.

 "No," Liora said. "She plans to correct it."

The Rift Trembles

As the team descended into the Rift, the air thickened — not with heat or pressure, but with presence. Kael could feel it in his blood, in the way the gravity near his skin twisted unnaturally.

 "The Void's stronger here," he muttered.

"This was a sealed focal point," Liora said. "But when Elarys awakened… the seal cracked."

Suddenly, Kael stopped.

The earth beneath his feet began to shimmer—then split.

Out of the rift, a memory rose.

Not his own. But something older.

The Memory That Shouldn't Exist

The image played in perfect clarity.

A young man stood alone atop the Rift—draped in radiant robes, with golden rings of gravity swirling behind him. His face was calm. Familiar.

Kael's breath caught. "That's… me."

Not exactly—but close enough.

In the memory, the First Vessel raised a hand toward a monstrous creature that loomed across the chasm. It was unshaped, its body constantly shifting—part choir, part void, part cosmic nightmare.

 "I remember this…" Kael whispered. "I've seen it… in dreams."

The memory-self looked toward Kael suddenly—through time, through death—and spoke:

"Don't make my mistake."

Then the scene shattered.

Kael dropped to one knee, clutching his chest.

Elsewhere: The Choir Gathers

Elarys stood at the heart of a floating disc suspended by sound and magic deep within the Rift. Around her, seven choir acolytes circled, chanting verses from the old tongue.

And before her… a throne of obsidian.

Not empty. Occupied.

A shape stirred in the dark — bound by layers of forgotten magic.

The original First Vessel's core—not dead, not alive.

Dormant.

"You were erased," Elarys whispered. "But I remember you. And Kael… he carries your shadow."

She placed a hand on the throne.

"Now… sing with me. One last time."

Back in the Rift

Kael stumbled to his feet. His aura was flickering. "She's going to resurrect him," he said. "Or worse… fuse with what's left."

 "Then we stop her," Darius said.

"Not without a plan," Liora warned. "You can't face both Elarys and a half-awake First Vessel."

"Then I'll awaken more," Kael said, voice quiet. "More of myself. Even if it breaks me."

"Kael—" Sera reached for him.

"No." He looked at her, gravity dancing in his eyes. "This en

ds here. I won't be someone else's weapon again."

He stepped into the inner ring of the Rift.

The final battle was beginning.