vanishing point

Usually, reaching the Dark Island was nearly impossible. In previous cycles, it only appeared near one of the three Great Islands — and each time, the one "honored" with its arrival had to make concessions to the others. Refuse to compromise, and you'd be pushed back, weakened.

During those times, wars would freeze, turning into a parade of absurdity: everything looked like a contest, a game for the chosen ones, where power wasn't enough — you needed cunning too.

Only those with connections at the level of gods could get there. Or those whom the gods themselves feared.

For outsiders, reaching it was even harder — the three islands watched the Dark Island like hyenas circling a carcass. If it appeared near one of them, approaching it unnoticed was suicide.

And even just sailing there — it sounded simple, but in reality... it was almost impossible. The seas around the Dark Island were black and dead, swallowing even the shadows of boats. Special vessels were needed to cross — ritual ships. Each of the Three guarded the secrets of their own.

But now… everything had changed.

The Dark Island had appeared near a pitiful, gray patch of land that officially belonged to no one. A disputed island, forgotten and despised. Nothing useful grew there. Just gray moss and wind that made your teeth ache. But now — it had become a bridge to another world.

Which meant many could reach it. All it took was the will.

— Those idiots are really going to the Dark Island... — Nathan muttered to himself. — Maybe they're the so-called leaders of the Dark Wastes...

Nathan sat, staring tensely into the darkness. He was sure he was in the third tower. But this room... it wasn't listed on any of his maps. What the hell was this place?

— They say the Dawn Shore is sending two expeditions, — came a hoarse voice from the right, as if from underground. — One official, as always. The other in secret, in the shadows. So all eyes will be on the parade group, while the real players move unseen.

The Snake frowned.

— Secrecy doesn't always mean strength, my friend. Sometimes it's just desperation.

— Or stupidity, — the Crab replied mockingly. — The Island of Winds is sending five teams at once. Each one's a mix — miracle-workers, former bandits, holy knights… and other misfits. They've thrown in everything they had. Would they really go that far if the Dark Island wasn't tied to the disputed zone?

— What about the Green Reef? — the Turtle asked, curiosity in his voice. — Not a single drop of information about them?

Nathan exhaled silently. Indeed… the Reef was still a mystery. The third closed-off nation among the islands. Its borders were like granite. You could enter. Getting out — not guaranteed.

For hundreds of years, things had been different. Two of the Great Islands waged endless war, ignoring everyone else. But twenty years ago, everything changed. A foreign force arrived on the archipelago — a team unlike anything this place had ever seen.

No outsider had ever set foot on these twelve islands. It was the first visit of its kind in centuries.

They captured the disputed island, later named the Green Reef — because of the thick green moss that covered its rocks.

The enemies united to destroy them. For the first time in ages. And it looked like they were winning...

But when the Reef started retreating — it turned out to be a trap. At the crucial moment, the alliance crumbled. Each island betrayed the others, and the Green Reef… walked away clean. More than that — their king, Gildref, claimed one of the sacred artifacts. And now he lays claim to everything.

— The three Great Islands now balance on the edge of the biggest war yet, — said the Lion clearly, and the room seemed to chill.

Nathan clenched his fists.

— That's why no one likes this Herman. A snot-nosed boy on the throne, while the whole archipelago burns around him.

— The Green Reef has powers we've never seen before, — the Crab said smoothly, like a snake. — And their king… I once crossed paths with him… It was a terrible experience.

He paused for a second, then added:

— I heard… tomorrow they're setting foot on the Dark Island. Seems like they've been ready for a while now.

Nathan nodded silently. Yeah… last time, the Reef had made it first, too. But they lost. Just like everyone else. Usually, no one ended up with the artifact. And this time… it'd probably be the same.

— It doesn't matter who enters or when. Everyone will find their own path, — the voice was dry, distant. — What concerns me more is how we'll find the Tablet of Fulfillment, said the Sea Dragon.

— Ha, don't worry, — someone replied from the shadows. — My map already marks all the unscanned spatial nodes. Not a single one will slip by, — said the Crab, as if he'd been preparing for this moment.

Now this was getting interesting. Nathan tensed, listening more closely. He finally understood. They weren't just after an artifact — they were going after the Dark Island's treasures!

And yes, there were plenty of those. Spatial nodes — like ancient trials: you enter, complete the challenge, take the reward. The higher the difficulty, the greater the gift.

And on the Dark Island — the most terrifying and valuable nodes existed.

— So the first will be the node with the Tablet of Deceit? — someone clarified.

— No. We'll skip that one. The level's too high. And the path to that valley is too twisted and dangerous, — replied a woman behind a fox mask. Her voice was calm, but a cold calculation ran beneath every word.

— Then what about the Mask of Sleep? — asked the Turtle, lazily rubbing his fingers. — They say it makes other nodes feel like a walk in the park.

Almost everyone turned toward the woman. She gave a nod.

— Yes. The Mask of Sleep will give us a decisive advantage. Especially in nodes where reality is warped.

— What if we start with the Ancient Mountain Serpent? — someone suggested from deeper in the room. — The Crimson Ore Light from that valley could grant us a strong boost early on.

— A worthy option, — the Lion approved, — but let's not forget one key fact — we might be scattered across different valleys. I'll give each of you a candle — if any of us ends up in the same place, the flame will turn our shade of violet. Follow the one whose flame lights up first.

He moved his hand — a golden spark shimmered through the hall. A moment later, each of them held a delicate lamp. The candle inside was dark, almost black.

— And one more thing, — the Lion continued, — after the Twelve Valleys, we regroup. I'll mark the rendezvous point. Next meeting — in the City of Poisons. Any objections?

Silence. That meant agreement.

— By the way, Swan... — the Turtle spoke up, glancing sideways with suspicion. — Are you really planning to go to the Dark Island?

Swan...

Nathan almost smirked. A couple of white feathers — not much of a reason for a nickname. But he kept silent. It was a fair question.

— Of course I'm going. But I don't want you losing touch with reality, — he replied coldly. — If we only focus on big goals and ignore the smaller details, the consequences could be... irreversible.

— Your noble speech is as inspiring as ever. Pity we're not smart enough to understand it, — someone remarked.

— Politics is never merciful, — another voice added. — If the same Dawn Shore we're sitting on can't claim the artifact, it'll go up in flames.

— In that case, — the Fox woman chuckled, — we'll just seize the moment… and take as much gold as we can carry.

Nathan remained silent. He understood now who they were. Treasure hunters. The kind who chased not ideals, not greatness, but pure gain. Judging by their manners, they were former bandits — from different places, different clans.

Not true allies — more like temporary partners. Probably held together by nothing more than mutual benefit.

But why was his brother with them? He had everything… Wealth. A name. Opportunities…

— By the way, Crab, — someone asked, — did you bring the materials for the exchange?

Nathan clenched his teeth. Looks like I didn't know my brother at all.

— I also gathered full data on the spatial nodes of the Dark Island, — the Snake hissed, tossing a scroll to the Lion.

And it seems… I'm the only one who had enough adventure just living in the castle.

— I found the best gear for the expedition, — the Crab announced cheerfully. — A full set. Light but durable. Perfect for the local climate.

But the irony is… the one who died in the castle was you.

Someone gently touched his shoulder.

— Swan… — came a calm voice. — The meeting's over. Everyone's gone. Only you remain.

He turned around. The room was empty. Only wisps of candle smoke lingered in the air, like the whisper of a memory.

And now, I'm alone again...