The celebration lasted until dawn.
I stayed for most of it, letting myself be pulled into conversations I barely remembered, accepting congratulations I didn't feel I deserved. Mira stayed by my side, her presence a warm anchor in the sea of unfamiliar faces. Even Zed nodded at me once—a grudging acknowledgment that felt more valuable than all the praise combined.
But when the laughter grew too loud and the lights grew too bright, I slipped away.
The corridors of the Hall were quiet. The violet runes pulsed gently along the walls, casting everything in a soft, eerie glow. I walked without direction, letting my feet carry me wherever they wanted to go.
I ended up at the Nexus.
The sphere of liquid light hovered in the center of the chamber, pulsing with that familiar rhythm. I approached it slowly, my hand reaching out instinctively.
"Eren."
I turned. Sera was standing behind me, her silver hair flowing like liquid starlight. Her expression was calm, but her eyes were sharp.
"You've been busy," she said.
"You could say that," I replied.
She studied me for a long moment. "You're thinking about Kael. About saving him."
I didn't ask how she knew. She was the first Voidwalker. She was connected to the Nexus, to the Rift, to everything.
"Yes," I said. "I promised him I'd try."
"A dangerous promise," Sera said. "The Void doesn't give up its prizes easily. Kael's soul has been trapped there for five years. It's been twisted, corrupted, remade into something that's no longer entirely him."
"I know," I said. "He told me. But I still have to try."
She was quiet for a moment. "You're stubborn. I like that. It's rare in a Voidwalker."
"Is it?"
"Most of us were broken long before we found the power," she said. "We were desperate, or angry, or lost. The Void chose us because we were easy to mold. But you—" She tilted her head. "You're different. You were ordinary. Content. The Void shouldn't have chosen someone like you."
"Then why did it?"
Sera smiled. It was a sad smile. "Because sometimes, the Void makes mistakes. And sometimes, those mistakes are the most interesting ones."
I didn't know what to say to that.
"There's a way to save Kael," Sera said, breaking the silence. "But it's not easy. And it's not without risk."
"Tell me," I said.
She raised her hand. The Nexus pulsed, and images formed in the air—a path through darkness, a door made of shadows, a figure trapped in chains of light.
"Kael's soul is imprisoned in the Heart of the Void," she said. "A place at the center of the Rift, where the Void's power is strongest. To reach it, you'll need to enter the Rift itself."
I felt a chill run down my spine. "Enter the Rift?"
"Physically," she said. "Not just in your dreams. You'll have to cross into the Void and find your way to the Heart."
"That sounds impossible."
"It is," she said. "For anyone but a Voidwalker. The Void is part of you now, Eren. It recognizes you. It won't attack you the way it would attack others. But that doesn't mean it'll welcome you."
"What will it do?"
She met my eyes. "It will try to consume you. It will whisper to you, tempt you, promise you anything you want. If you give in—even for a moment—you'll never come back. Your soul will join Kael's, trapped in the darkness forever."
I swallowed hard. "And if I succeed? If I reach the Heart?"
"Then you can free him," she said. "But it will cost you. The Void doesn't let go of its prisoners without a price."
"What kind of price?"
Sera's expression flickered. "I don't know. That's different for everyone. But I do know this—the price will be something you can't afford to lose."
I was quiet for a long moment.
"I still have to try," I finally said. "I made a promise."
Sera nodded slowly. "I thought you'd say that. That's why I'm going to help you."
"How?"
"The Nexus can open a path to the Rift," she said. "But only once. Once the path is open, it can't be closed again. You'll have to find your own way back."
"Can I do that?"
"I don't know," she admitted. "No Voidwalker has ever tried."
I stared at the image of the Heart—the figure trapped in chains of light—and I felt a surge of determination.
"Then I'll be the first."
I told Lyra the next morning.
She listened in silence, her expression unreadable. When I finished, she was quiet for a long time.
"You can't be serious," she finally said.
"I am," I said. "I promised Kael. I'm going to save him."
Lyra shook her head. "Eren, that's insane. You can't just walk into the Void. You don't understand what you're dealing with."
"Then help me understand," I said. "Teach me. Prepare me. I know it's dangerous. I know I might not come back. But I have to try. Kael gave his life to save everyone. He deserves a chance to be free."
She stared at me. Then, slowly, her expression shifted—from shock to resignation, and finally to something that looked almost like pride.
"You're impossible," she said. "You know that?"
"I've been told."
She sighed. "If you're going to do this—and I know you are—then you need to be ready. The Void is more than just a place. It's a state of being. A realm of pure potential, shaped by emotion and will. You can't fight it the way you fight Riftspawn. You have to navigate it. Understand it."
"Tell me how."
She reached out, placing a hand on my shoulder. "You'll find out soon enough. But first, we need to train. Harder than ever before. If you're going to survive the Void, you need to be stronger than you've ever been."
"I'm ready," I said.
"I hope so," she said. "Because I can't lose another Voidwalker."
The training was brutal.
Lyra pushed me harder than she ever had before. She made me run until I collapsed. She made me fight until my body screamed for rest. She made me meditate until my mind was sharp enough to cut glass.
And every night, I dreamed of the Void.
The field of black grass was familiar now. The faceless figure was always there, watching, waiting. But I didn't run from it. I faced it.
"You're getting stronger," the figure said. "Soon, you'll be ready to come to me."
"I'm not coming for you," I said. "I'm coming for Kael."
The figure laughed. "Kael is dead. There's nothing left to save. But I'm offering you something better. Power beyond your wildest dreams. Immortality. Control over the very fabric of reality. All you have to do is accept."
"I don't want any of that."
"Then what do you want?"
I thought about my mother. About Lyra. About Mira and Zed and all the people who were counting on me.
"I want to protect the people I love," I said. "And I don't need the Void's power to do that."
The figure was silent for a moment.
"Then you're a fool," it said. "But a brave one. That's rare."
The final day of training arrived.
Lyra stood across from me in the training room, her starlight blade in her hand. Her expression was serious, but there was something else in her eyes—worry, maybe. Or fear.
"Ready?" she asked.
"Ready," I said.
She attacked.
The battle was fierce. She was faster than me, more skilled, more experienced. But I was stronger now. More controlled. The violet markings on my arm blazed with power, and I used every ounce of it to match her strike for strike.
We fought for what felt like hours. The runes on the walls blazed with light. The air crackled with energy.
And then, finally, Lyra disarmed me.
My sword clattered to the ground. She pressed her blade to my throat.
"You're still too aggressive," she said. "You rely too much on the Void's power. You need to trust yourself more."
"I know," I said, gasping for breath. "But I'm learning."
She lowered her blade. "You are. And that's enough."
She offered me a hand, and I took it, pulling myself to my feet.
"When do you want to go?" she asked.
"Tonight," I said. "The Rift is still open. If I'm going to do this, I need to do it now."
She nodded slowly. "I'll come with you. As far as I can."
"Thank you," I said.
She didn't respond. But something in her eyes told me she was saying goodbye.
The Nexus chamber was quiet.
Lyra stood beside me as I approached the sphere of liquid light. Mira was there too, her expression tight with worry. Even Zed had come, though he stood at the back, arms crossed, saying nothing.
"Are you sure about this?" Mira asked.
"I'm sure," I said.
She reached out, squeezing my hand. "Come back, okay? Don't make me have to train another Voidwalker."
I almost laughed. "I'll do my best."
Sera's voice echoed in my mind. When you're ready, touch the Nexus. I'll open the path.
I looked at the sphere. It pulsed gently, its light warm and inviting.
"Goodbye," I said.
Then I reached out and touched it.
The world exploded into light.
I was falling again—falling through darkness, through nothing, through the void between worlds. But this time, I didn't close my eyes. I forced them open, forced myself to see.
The Void stretched out before me, infinite and terrible.
And at its center, I could see it—a door made of shadows, pulsing with dark energy. Beyond it, the Heart.
I started walking.
The Void was worse than anything I'd ever imagined.
It wasn't just dark. It was empty. A void of meaning, of purpose, of everything that made life worth living. The whispers were everywhere, a thousand voices all speaking at once, promising power, promising escape, promising everything I'd ever wanted.
I ignored them.
I kept walking.
The shadows moved around me, forming shapes that were almost human. They reached for me, brushed against my skin, tried to pull me away from the path. I pushed through them.
The door grew closer.
"Eren."
I stopped. The voice was familiar—warm, gentle, achingly familiar.
I turned.
My mother was standing behind me. She was wearing her favorite dress, the one with the flowers on it. She was smiling.
"Eren, come home," she said. "It's not safe here. I've been so worried about you."
I felt my heart clench. "Mom. You're not real. You can't be here."
"I'm real," she said. "I'm always real. I'm your mother. Don't you want to come home? Don't you want to see me again?"
I wanted to say yes. I wanted to run to her, wrap my arms around her, never let go.
But I knew the truth.
"You're not real," I said again. "You're just the Void, trying to trick me."
Her expression flickered. For a moment, she was just shadows, just emptiness. Then she was my mother again, her eyes pleading.
"I'm real, Eren. I'm here. Just come home. Please."
"No," I said. "I have to save Kael. I promised."
I turned away.
And even though I heard her calling after me, even though it broke my heart to leave her behind, I didn't look back.
The door of shadows loomed before me.
I reached out—and touched it.
The shadows parted, revealing a chamber of pure light. In the center, a figure was chained, its body made of shifting darkness, its eyes hollow and empty.
"Kael," I whispered.
The figure looked up. Its face was the same face I'd seen in my dreams—tired, haunted, but still human.
"Eren," he said. "You came."
"I promised," I said. "I'm going to get you out of here."
Kael shook his head. "You can't. I'm too far gone. The Void has taken too much of me. There's nothing left to save."
"There's still you," I said. "I can see it. The real you, buried underneath all this."
I reached out, my hand closing around the chains of light that bound him.
And I pulled.
End of Chapter