The air inside the chamber felt wrong.
It pressed against Kael's skin like something alive, rippling with an unseen force that pulsed in rhythm with the second shard embedded in the floor ahead. The glow of the fractured stone pulsed softly, a cold, unearthly light seeping through the cracks in the ancient stone.
And then came the voice.
"You have touched what does not belong to you."
The words didn't echo in the space—they settled into his bones, as if spoken directly into the marrow of his being.
Kael's grip on his rifle tightened as he turned toward the figure descending from the darkness above.
Wrapped in flowing robes as black as the abyss, its mask was carved from polished obsidian, spirals etched along its surface like pathways into infinity. Symbols burned along the figure's arms—the same glyphs carved into the ruins, the same ones etched onto the shard in Kael's chest.
Selene tensed beside him. Her blades remained sheathed, but her fingers hovered over the hilts, coiled like waiting vipers.
"A Hollow Ascendant," she murmured.
Kael kept his stance firm. "You know this thing?"
"Not it. Him," Selene corrected, her voice grim. "This is Vaelcor, one of the Hollow Order's last true commanders. He was there when the first shards fell into mortal hands. And he has not forgotten what was stolen."
The Hollow Ascendant glided closer, his presence seeming to distort the very space around him. His masked face tilted toward Kael.
"You feel the pull of the Crown's will," Vaelcor said, his voice unnervingly calm. "And yet, you do not understand the price of wielding even a fragment of it."
Kael swallowed, keeping his eyes locked on the figure. "Then tell me."
The Hollow Ascendant regarded him for a long moment before raising a hand. The air shifted, and the walls of the chamber shimmered.
Then, the past unfolded before them.
---
The True Origins of the Fractured Crown
The visions came suddenly—Kael barely had time to react as the ruins melted into something else entirely.
A city of impossible design stretched toward the heavens, its towers crafted from spirals of woven silver and shimmering crystal. Stars burned overhead, but not like the dying embers of his world's sky—these were alive, pulsing like watchful sentinels.
And at the heart of it all sat the Crown.
Not broken. Not scattered.
Whole.
Kael felt his breath catch. He could feel its presence, its gravity pulling at him, whispering not in words but in truths.
Then the vision shifted.
Figures stood at the Crown's base—beings draped in celestial robes, their forms flickering between light and shadow. They were not human. Not even mortal.
They were the Architects.
And they were the first to wield the Crown's power.
Selene exhaled sharply beside him. "I knew it…"
Vaelcor's voice wove through the vision like a blade sliding into flesh.
"The Crown was never meant to be wielded by mortals. It was a device of creation, an anchor that bound reality to its true form. But the first thieves came, and in their arrogance, they sought to claim what was never theirs."
The vision fractured.
Kael watched as war erupted—the Architects turning against those who sought the Crown, a battle of light and entropy that tore through existence itself. The Crown shattered, its pieces scattering across creation, severing reality from its perfect form.
And from that moment forward, the world as it had been was lost.
The vision faded, leaving only the ruins once more.
Kael let out a slow breath, his heart pounding. "So that's it? The Hollow Order believes the Crown belongs to these… Architects?"
Vaelcor's masked face tilted slightly. "It does not merely belong to them. Without it, they are imprisoned outside of existence itself. And now, you and those before you have played the part of their jailers."
Kael's hands clenched into fists. "If that's true, then why are you after the shards? Why not let the Crown stay broken?"
For the first time, Vaelcor's voice darkened.
"Because others will not let it rest. And the only question now, child of the Fracture, is whether you will stand in the way… or become the instrument of its return."
---
The Decision and the Third Faction
Kael turned his gaze to the second shard embedded in the ground. Its pulsing light called to him, pulling at something deep inside his bones.
If Vaelcor was telling the truth, then every piece he gathered brought the Crown closer to being whole again.
And that meant every decision he made from this point forward was another step toward an irreversible fate.
Selene's voice cut through the silence.
"Kael, we have company."
He turned sharply.
Beyond the ruined entrance, another force had arrived. But they were not the Hollow Order.
Their armor was jagged, reflecting the dim light of the chamber in unnatural hues, their helmets carved in the shape of predatory beasts. Their weapons crackled with energy that looked almost alive.
Selene's breath hitched.
"Impossible."
Kael narrowed his eyes. "Who the hell are they?"
Vaelcor's masked face turned toward them. Even his usually calm voice held a trace of something Kael hadn't heard before.
"The Harbingers of the Vanished."
Kael frowned. "The what?"
Selene swallowed. "They are not from our world. They are not even from our timeline."
Kael's pulse quickened.
A faction from beyond the cracks of reality itself. A force not aligned with the Hollow Order, the Ashen Blight, or anything else he had encountered so far.
And they had come for the Crown's fragments.
The leading warrior of the Harbingers stepped forward, their voice distorted, layered with something that sounded like a thousand voices speaking at once.
"The game has gone on long enough," they said. "The Crown does not belong to you, nor to the Architects. It is ours to reclaim."
Kael's fingers twitched toward the shard.
The Hollow Order believed the Crown was stolen from the Architects.
The Harbingers believed it belonged to them.
And Kael?
He wasn't sure who to believe anymore.
All he knew was that every faction wanted what he carried.
And none of them were leaving without a fight.