The core of the First Rift was a cathedral of fire and shadow. Molten crystal pillars spiralled toward a dark void, glowing veins of gold wrapping around them like veins around a heart. The air was heavy with heat, charged with Rift energy that pulsed like a heartbeat — not soft, not distant, but alive, watching.
Kairo led the group, cloak trailing, eyes fixed ahead. The closer they came, the more the Rift seemed to recognize him — flaring, twisting, bending light and flame to follow his steps. Every breath carried the scent of ash, of burned kingdoms, of a past that refused to die.
Noel followed silently, golden light flickering across his skin. His power had stabilised, but the shadows in the Rift seemed drawn to him, whispering promises of dominance, of power beyond imagination. Kairo knew that voice all too well — it was the Tyrant King's will, reaching across time to seduce the boy.
Reika drew her blades. "Stay close. Don't let the Rift separate us."
Taro groaned. "Yeah, because a flaming death cathedral is so cozy for a walk."
At the centre of the chamber, the Rift twisted into a colossal vortex of molten crystal and shadow. From it rose a figure — featureless, burning faintly with golden light, enormous. Not the Tyrant King, not fully. Something more, something that embodied all the rage, ambition, and hunger that had ever fed the Rift.
Kairo stopped. The heat pressed against his chest, and his heart thrummed in sync with the vortex. "This… this is what I left behind," he murmured. "The culmination of everything I was… everything I destroyed."
Noel stepped forward, hands trembling. "It's calling me."
"Then answer it on your terms," Kairo said. "Not its terms. Not mine."
The Rift surged. Fiery shards spun toward Noel like living weapons. He flinched, then flared his own light — golden arcs slicing through the molten shards, his aura feeding on the energy around him. Kairo joined him instinctively, flames dancing from his hands, colliding with the Riftborn projectiles in showers of sparks.
Reika and Taro moved like shadows and steel, weaving between bursts of molten crystal, cutting and deflecting where instinct failed, holding the corridor of safety around the two.
The air vibrated with rage. The Rift's voice echoed in Kairo's mind:
"You cannot destroy what is mine. You only delay it… again."
He clenched his fists. "I won't delay it. Not this time."
The battle erupted into chaos. Fire collided with fire, light against shadow, molten pillars splintering into rivers of liquid crystal. Time bent; the chamber twisted like a living maze, testing their speed, their precision, their courage. Kairo's flames were instinctive, instinct sharpened by decades of memory he no longer wanted, yet could not discard.
Noel's aura flared brighter, feeding on the Rift's own energy, shaping it into radiant spears that impaled the shadowed forms erupting from the vortex. Every strike left echoes — whispers of kings and soldiers, of empires rising and falling in a heartbeat.
And then, from the heart of the Rift, a wave of molten energy surged, threatening to engulf them all. Kairo caught Noel by the arm, pulling him into a leap as the wave crashed against the chamber walls. Sparks rained, molten crystal splintered, and the Rift screamed.
"I won't let it touch you!" Kairo roared, flames coiling around them like serpents. "This ends here!"
The world bent around the two. Time slowed; the pulse of the Rift synced with Kairo's heartbeat. Memories of the Tyrant's throne, his conquered kingdoms, his own failures, surged like fire through his mind. He raised his hand, and with a shout, unleashed all the restraint he had held for decades — a blast of golden flame that erupted from him and Noel simultaneously, colliding with the Riftborn core.
Light and fire exploded. The vortex trembled, shrieked, then fractured. The golden veins cracked, and molten shards fell like sparks from a dying star. Silence followed.
When the heat finally subsided, the Rift lay dormant — but not gone. The chamber was scarred, molten rivers cooled into crystal, and the pulse beneath their feet slowed to a heartbeat they could barely feel. Noel collapsed to his knees, exhausted but alive. Kairo stood beside him, his cloak tattered, hands smouldering.
Reika and Taro approached cautiously. "Is it… done?" Reika asked.
Kairo exhaled, eyes scanning the fractured chamber. "For now. But the seed… the world itself remembers. This is not the end — only a chance to choose differently."
Noel looked up at him, faint golden light still flickering in his eyes. "Then we choose… together."
Kairo nodded, letting the silence settle around them. The First Rift was quiet, but its echoes lingered — reminders of what had been, and warnings of what could rise again.
The real test was just beginning.