The night was unnaturally still. Even the wind refused to cross the borders of the Whispering Vale—a forest that once bloomed under the protection of celestial runes, now warped by unseen hands.
Auren's footsteps echoed faintly against the dead leaves. The trees around him were bone-white, hollowed, their bark marked with faint, glowing scars.
Lyra followed close, her eyes glimmering faintly with mana.
"The air here feels… wrong. It's like the forest remembers something it's not supposed to."
Kael stopped ahead of them, his form half-dissolved in smoke. "That's because it does. The Whispering Vale isn't a place—it's a grave for memories that the gods tried to bury."
Auren frowned. "You said this path leads to the Ruins of Arkanis."
Kael's expression darkened.
"It does. But Arkanis isn't what it used to be. It was the first stronghold to fall when the Veil cracked."
Lyra's tone softened. "You fought there, didn't you?"
Kael gave no answer, only a hollow smile that told her more than words ever could.
The deeper they went, the quieter it became. The forest wasn't lifeless—it was listening.
Auren paused, resting his hand on his sword. The golden light of the karmic sigil pulsed faintly.
"It's here," he murmured. "Something's calling."
Kael turned sharply. "Don't answer it."
But the moment passed too late. The sigil flared bright, and the trees around them began to whisper—not with voices, but with echoes of battle, sorrow, and dying prayers.
A vision surged through Auren's mind—warriors in white-silver armor falling beneath a tide of shadows, their cries muffled by divine thunder.A woman's voice—soft, aching, familiar—cut through the chaos.
"Auren… you swore to guard the light, not to die for it."
He gasped, falling to one knee. Lyra caught him, eyes wide. "Auren! What is it?"
"A memory," he said through clenched teeth. "But not mine."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "Then whose?"
Before he could answer, the ground trembled. From beneath the forest floor rose spectral figures—knights of light and shadow, their forms flickering between life and death.
"The Veil remembers its soldiers," Kael muttered. "And it doesn't forgive."
Auren rose, his sword igniting in golden flame. The air around him shimmered, warping with karmic force.
"Then we'll remind them what side they fought for."
The battle that followed was chaos embodied—spectral blades clashing with divine fire, Lyra's spells bending the light into fractal bursts, and Kael moving like a ghost between both worlds.
But as Auren struck the last phantom down, the light of his sword dimmed—and from the ashes rose something else.
A face.Her face.
The same voice from his vision.
"You never left me, did you, Auren?"
Lyra froze. Kael stepped back.The woman was translucent, radiant yet broken—her eyes hollow, her presence divine.
"Who are you?" Auren whispered, his voice trembling.
"Once… your shield. Now… your sin."
She smiled sadly.
"The gods are watching again, my knight. And they remember what you asked of them before you died."
Before Auren could speak, she dissolved into golden dust—and a whisper lingered:
"The second seal… has been broken."
The silence that followed was heavier than any battle. Kael's jaw tightened.
"Then the Abyss is already three steps ahead."
Auren stared into the faint shimmer where she had stood. His hands shook—not from fear, but from memory.
"No," he said quietly. "This isn't over. If the gods remember me…""Then it's time they remembered why they feared me."
The karmic sigil burned bright, carving golden light into the night.
"The past does not die—it lingers, whispering through the cracks of time, waiting for someone foolish enough to listen."