The sun barely rose in the Ash Plains.
It didn't shine like a proper sun. It loomed—bloated, dim, and red, half-choked behind layers of dust and centuries of soulburn storms. It didn't warm. It watched.
Kael and Lira walked under that gaze, boots crunching dead gravel as silence stretched between them.
They'd been walking west since first light. Kael's ribs still ached from yesterday's fight, and his stomach grumbled like a buried Vein Beast, but he didn't complain.
Lira didn't speak much.
And Kael didn't ask questions.
Not yet.
He watched the way she moved—fluid, light on her feet, like someone who didn't trust the ground to stay still beneath her. Her cloak flowed in the wind, tattered but deliberate, and her armor gleamed faintly with layers of etched glyphs and cooling nodes.
That wasn't scavenged gear. That was Soulweaver-made.
And if she really had been a Soulweaver…
Kael wasn't sure if he should trust her or stay five steps behind.
⸻
By midmorning, they stopped at the edge of a sunken ravine. A collapsed bridge reached toward nothing. Smoke curled up from deep within.
Lira crouched near the ledge and held out a small device—a lens etched with tiny Soulvein runes. She twisted the edge, stared through, then clicked it shut.
"We're close," she said, standing. "The Vault's a few miles down. Past the Fissure Path."
Kael tilted his head. "You said it holds a Seed?"
"Maybe. What it definitely holds is knowledge." She started walking again. "And that's what you need more than anything."
Kael followed. "What's a Seed?"
Lira glanced at him. "You really don't know?"
"I was banned from learning anything about Veins. After my first flare."
She nodded. "Figures."
Kael waited for her to explain. She didn't. He scowled. "So are you gonna—"
"A Soulvein Seed," she said finally, "is the crystallized source of an Origin. They're not made. They're born. Found. They contain the pure essence of one of the Nine Origins."
"Like… a perfect Fire Vein?"
"More than that. It's a divine blueprint. Whoever bonds with a Seed doesn't just wield an Origin—they reshape it. Evolve it. Create something entirely new."
Kael blinked. "You saying I could fix my Void Vein with one?"
She looked at him for a long time. "No. You can't fix a Void Vein."
His jaw clenched.
"But," she continued, "you might be able to understand it. And that's the first step to shaping it."
They walked on in silence for a while.
Then Kael asked, "Why are you helping me?"
Lira didn't answer right away.
When she did, her voice was quieter.
"Because I once saw what happens when someone doesn't get help."
⸻
They reached the Fissure Path by midday.
It wasn't a path.
It was a scar.
A narrow canyon that ran like a wound through the earth, filled with broken stone, shattered bones, and flickering shadows. The walls on either side were blackened with old Vein Fire. Burned symbols of lost clans were half-visible on the rocks—ashes of oaths long broken.
Lira slid down first, landing on a slanted ledge. Kael followed, boots skidding until he found his balance.
As they descended deeper, the air grew colder. Heavier.
Kael's Void Vein pulsed in his arm.
Something was here.
Watching.
Waiting.
⸻
They moved slow.
Carefully.
Kael didn't speak. Every instinct in his body buzzed with tension. His Soulvein buzzed under his skin like a barely-contained storm.
Then he heard it.
A scraping sound.
Low. Wet. Repeating.
Lira stopped.
She held up a hand.
Kael froze.
Then they saw it.
A creature limping along the far end of the canyon, half-shadowed by jagged rock.
It wasn't human.
But it had once been.
Its skin was cracked like lava rock. Soulvein scars glowed dim red along its arms. Its eyes—one gone, the other pale gold—twitched in erratic directions. Its limbs were too long. Too stiff. A melted Soulbrand shimmered faintly across its chest.
It had no mouth.
Kael whispered, "What the hell is that?"
Lira's hand dropped to the hilt of her shortblade. "Failed Veinlord. His Vein broke his mind. Now it controls him."
The creature sniffed the air.
Then turned toward them.
Lira drew her blade. "Don't use the Void unless you have no choice."
Kael nodded.
And the creature charged.
⸻
It moved fast—unnaturally fast. Limbs clicking, twitching. It launched a burst of flame from its palms—wild, unrefined. Lira rolled left, Kael ducked right.
Kael landed behind a boulder, peeking out. Lira was already mid-air, her blade glinting. She carved a glowing glyph into the stone mid-leap—Anchor Slash—and her strike connected, severing the creature's arm clean off.
It didn't scream.
It didn't bleed.
It just turned toward her and pulsed.
Kael's eyes widened. "Lira, MOVE!"
A blast of heat erupted—an unstable Flame Vein Surge.
Lira was tossed back, armor singing, cloak burning at the edges.
Kael didn't think.
He sprinted toward the beast, grabbed a loose chunk of collapsed Soulweaver stone, and hurled it at the creature's head.
It cracked but didn't fall.
The creature turned toward him.
Kael felt the Void rise.
But he held it.
No.
Not yet.
He focused, instead, on movement. The Wind Drunken strikes he learned from watching drunken patrolmen and copying their steps. He juked left, rolled under a wild Flame swipe, and grabbed the creature's wrist.
Then something new happened.
The Void didn't just pulse.
It reached.
Just for a second, Kael saw into the creature—its broken Vein, its corrupted fire threads.
He let go with a gasp.
The creature hesitated.
And Lira's blade struck true—this time across the chest, where the melted Soulbrand was.
The creature fell.
Still twitching.
But done.
⸻
Kael sat back, panting. "What… what was that?"
Lira crouched beside the corpse, breathing heavy. "That was your Void Vein doing what it does best."
"Which is?"
"Understanding. Consuming. Reconstructing." She looked at him. "It's not a curse, Kael. It's a mirror. It reflects what it touches. If you don't shape it, it'll shape you."
Kael stared at the body.
"Are there more of those things?"
Lira stood. "Not in this stretch. The Vault entrance is just beyond the bend."
⸻
They reached the Vault by sunset.
It was hidden behind a fallen cliffside—half-buried under centuries of debris. The door was a massive disk of blackened steel, etched with ancient Soulweaver glyphs. Nine circles formed a ring around a hollow center.
Kael stared at it. "That's the symbol from my dream."
Lira looked at him sharply. "Dream?"
Kael nodded. "It spoke to me. Said 'Wake up, Voidborn. The path begins now.'"
Lira's jaw tightened. "You're further along than I thought."
She stepped forward and pressed her hand against the center circle.
Nothing happened.
She pulled a crystal shard from her pouch—small, dark, thrumming with quiet power—and slotted it into a groove near the center.
The glyphs lit up.
The door groaned.
And slowly, it opened.
⸻
Inside was a long corridor—dim, silent, and cold. Crystals lined the walls, flickering faintly. Dust coated everything. The air smelled like rusted magic.
Kael followed Lira down the corridor until they reached a chamber.
Rows of data-pylons—Soulweaver tech—lined the walls. Broken monitors, collapsed shelves, and shattered memory-scrolls lay scattered across the floor.
But in the center stood something intact.
A floating crystal.
Black.
And pulsing.
Kael stepped toward it.
The moment he did, his Void Vein flared.
Pain lanced through his arm. Visions flashed through his mind—fire, shadow, chains, and a sky split by lightning.
He dropped to one knee.
Lira grabbed his shoulder. "Kael—listen to me. That crystal holds residual data. It's responding to your Vein."
Kael gritted his teeth. "What do I do?"
"Let it in."
He did.
And the crystal shattered—its energy pouring into his chest like liquid fire.
⸻
When the pain cleared, Kael stood slowly.
Breathing heavy.
But something was different.
He could feel threads now.
Everywhere.
In the walls. In Lira. In the air.
He could sense movement.
Emotion.
Soul resonance.
Lira stepped back. "You unlocked Phase One of your Soul Mode."
Kael blinked. "Soul Mode?"
She nodded. "Every Vein has one. Some warriors train years just to scratch the first layer."
"What's mine?"
"You'll have to figure that out." She smiled. "But you've taken the first step."
Kael looked down at his hands.
He could feel his Soulvein breathing.
Alive.
Awake.