The board shuddered as Kaelen stepped forward, not onto the tile before him, but into the narrow thread of light only he could see. His foot landed where no square existed—onto nothing—and yet the void held him.
Lyra's breath caught. "Kaelen… you're walking outside the game."
The eye above dilated in alarm, its voice sharp for the first time.
"This is not your square. Return. Return or be consumed."
Kaelen gripped the relic tighter, forcing the pain in his skull into silence. "No. I've played by your rules long enough."
The forbidden path curved, shimmering faintly, bypassing a cluster of titans. The nearest one turned its head as if sensing something wrong, but it couldn't see him—not fully. Kaelen moved like a ghost through its blind spot.
Lyra watched from her tile, blaster ready, but her jaw clenched. "Don't get lost out there. If you vanish, I'll drag you back myself."
Kaelen allowed himself the faintest smirk before stepping further.
Every pace tore at him—visions flashing: endless boards, infinite players, all trying what he was attempting now. Some succeeded, most did not. Their screams echoed in his mind, fractured ghosts clawing at his memory.
But ahead… he saw it.
The enemy King.
Closer than ever. Its fractured crown tilted, as if sensing Kaelen's defiance. Its voice cracked like thunder across the grid:
"You trespass. You bleed."
The King lifted its scepter. Immediately, the tiles around Kaelen shattered. Void-fire surged upward, trying to swallow the forbidden path whole.
Kaelen staggered, almost falling. The relic blazed, stabilizing the light-thread beneath his feet. His heart hammered as he realized the truth: every step he took here drained the relic—and himself.
Lyra shouted across the board, firing at serpents closing in on the new candle-bearer. "Kaelen, the flame! It's under attack!"
Kaelen's gut twisted. He couldn't be in two places at once. If he pushed toward the King, he might kill it—but he might also lose the bearer.
The relic pulsed violently, splitting the forbidden path into two directions:
One leading to the King.
One curving back toward the candle-bearer.
Both burned with impossible light, demanding a choice.
Kaelen's breath tore from his throat, sweat running down his temples. He could win now, maybe—cut off the King and shatter the game. Or he could turn back, save the bearer, and risk never getting this close again.
Lyra's voice cracked through the chaos. "Kaelen! Decide!"
The relic seared his palm. The eye above leaned closer, whispering like a hiss of knives.
"Choose your flame… or choose your crown."
And Kaelen took his next step.