The moment Liora crossed the threshold, the world twisted.
Gravity bent sideways, the ground pulsed like breathing flesh, and the air carried a deep, bone-shaking hum—like the Abyss itself was aware of her presence.
The Rift was not a place. It was a living wound in reality.
She moved cautiously along a narrow bridge of obsidian, suspended over an endless chasm where shadows writhed like serpents. Her breath came in slow, measured draws, but each step felt heavier, as though unseen hands tried to drag her down.
Halfway across, the hum stopped. Silence.
Then, a voice—not Kaelen's, but deep, resonant, and dripping with malice:
> "No mortal passes without my consent."
From the chasm below, something rose—massive, shifting between forms with every heartbeat. One moment a colossal armored knight, the next a swirling mass of black tendrils. Its helm bore no face, only a void.
The Gatekeeper.
It stepped onto the bridge, its weight cracking the stone beneath. A sword longer than Liora was drawn with a sound like a thousand screams.
She raised the runed dagger, feeling its pulse quicken in her palm. The Gatekeeper tilted its head, as if amused.
"You seek the Keeper of the Abyss," it said, voice shaking the bridge. "He has no need for you… unless you join him."
Liora's jaw tightened. "Then you'll have to kill me."
The Gatekeeper lunged, sword cleaving the air. Liora dove aside, sparks erupting where the blade met stone. Shadows lashed out toward her ankles, but she slashed them away with the dagger, the runes flaring bright.
For the first time, the Gatekeeper hesitated. Its faceless helm tilted again—not in mockery this time, but in recognition.
> "So… you carry the Severing Blade. Perhaps you are worth killing after all."
The bridge trembled as their battle began, the chasm below roaring like a living thing eager for blood.
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