The arm tore through the rift like a blade splitting the heavens, each movement echoing with the weight of creation itself. The six Revenants braced, their voids flaring instinctively, but Lucien froze. The White inside him quivered—not in fear, but in recognition.
The colossal figure began to emerge, its form too vast, its edges blurred as though reality itself struggled to hold it.
Caelthorn's abyssal energy surged outward, straining to anchor the battlefield. His eyes, normally cold, widened with something uncharacteristic—dread. "This presence… it's older than the cycle. Older than the source."
Lucien staggered as a voice—not spoken, but carved directly into his mind—cut through.
"Child of the White. Descendant of Dreamveil. You are the anomaly because you are not just chosen… you are born of betrayal."
Lucien's heart slammed against his ribs. His vision flashed with fragments—images he didn't recognize, but felt bone-deep. His father kneeling before a radiant throne. His mother's hand reaching for him, stained with void. A seal carved into flesh and bone.
The White surged, pulling him deeper. For the first time, it spoke.
"Your father, Eryndor Dreamveil, once wielded the White. He was the sovereign of its judgment, the blade that cut through the endless dark. But he faltered. He defied the source, choosing love over law. When he bound himself to the woman who bore you, he traded mastery for mortality. The White stripped him bare, leaving him powerless—an exile, hunted by both worlds."
Lucien's knees nearly buckled, the words burning hotter than the battlefield. His father… powerless. Not dead. Not gone. Hiding.
His teeth clenched. "Then where is he?"
The voice carved through again. "He hides in the hollow between realms. He watches but cannot act. He waits for you, Lucien, because you are what he could not be. The White did not abandon your line… it perfected it. You are its last gamble."
A beam of corrupted void energy erupted from the giant's chest, searing across the plateau. Kairo bent time in a frantic ripple, slowing its path, while Ashveil and Zarynth split left and right. Veythar roared, Bloodsteel flaring as he carved a counterstrike into the beam, splitting it in two.
Lucien didn't move. He let the White coil through him, absorbing the truth. His mother… void-touched. His father… a fallen sovereign. Himself… the outcome of their forbidden union.
"Lucien!" Kairo's shout snapped him back. "Snap out of it or we die here!"
Lucien's pale eyes lifted, glowing like burning glass. He raised a hand, and the beam bent—not deflected, not shattered, but folded inward. Space collapsed, crushing the attack into nothingness. The battlefield went silent for a heartbeat.
The colossal being paused, its mountain-sized head tilting. And then… it laughed.
"Good. You begin to awaken. But your father's sin lives in you. You are not just the anomaly… you are the weakness of the White."
Lucien's blood ran cold, but his stance didn't falter. His cloak billowed without wind, his body straight, defiant. "Maybe. But weakness doesn't stand alone. It stands with five others."
At that, Ashveil cracked a grin, shadows writhing like hungry dogs. "Damn right."
Zarynth spun his chaos void around his arm, a crooked smile forming. "And together? We're a nightmare."
The six Revenants surged forward as one, their voids colliding in dazzling arcs of impossible light. The colossal being raised its arm, black as night, as they launched themselves at it.
But deep inside Lucien's chest, the White whispered again, softer this time—an omen only he could hear:
"The truth is only half-revealed. Your mother was no victim. She is the void's vessel, and she waits. When you find her, you will learn whether the Exception was salvation… or mistake."
Lucien faltered for just a breath, enough for the giant's arm to slam down and send shockwaves across the battlefield.
The Revenants regrouped, defiant, but Lucien's expression had changed. His eyes burned brighter, but behind them, a shadow of doubt flickered.
The voice of the colossal being rumbled once more:
"Anomaly… you will face her soon. And when you do, the White will decide if it devours you, or kneels to you."
The rift pulsed violently, consuming its own giants as though retreating. The being withdrew, leaving silence, ruin, and a cliffhanger that shook the Revenants to their core.
Lucien stood among the wreckage, fists clenched, cloak tattered. His voice was barely a whisper.
"…Mother."