The corridors no longer held shape.
Alpha walked through stone that bent like water, through halls that breathed. The Labyrinth had changed again — walls pulsing faintly with veins of dim light, the color of old bruises. Each step sounded distant, swallowed before it could echo. He could not tell if he moved forward or merely circled the same wound in the world.
His hand still trembled from the Knight's word. Feylith. It had not faded. Sometimes, between one breath and the next, he swore he heard it whispered from his own heartbeat.
He paused beside a fissure where air seeped cold and thin. Beyond it lay a cavern, its ceiling glittering with dormant crystals. Dreamstones. Hundreds, maybe thousands. Their glow was faint, but they hummed — not sound, but sensation, as though his flaw recognized kinship.
He should have turned away.
Instead, he stepped inside.
The cavern stretched wide, pale dust drifting in the air. The stones hung like sleeping eyes, embedded in walls of fractured glass. Alpha reached toward one, fingertips brushing its surface. It pulsed softly — and in that instant, visions bled into him.
He saw a tower that burned without fire, voices crying from within, faces melting into light. He saw a woman in a silver veil turning to dust, her hand outstretched toward something that was not there. He saw the End — not a creature, not an army, but absence wearing the shape of all it devoured.
Alpha staggered back, clutching his head. The visions scattered, yet the taste of them lingered, bitter and electric. The Veyres window flickered before his eyes, its glyphs trembling — still blank, still mocking.
His flaw stirred. The shadow along his spine rippled, eager. Hunger pressed at his ribs, whispering that a single stone could steady him. Just one.
He grit his teeth and drove his blade into the floor, anchoring himself. "No," he rasped.
The walls quivered. Dust fell in thin veils. The Dreamstones glowed brighter, responding to his denial. They wanted him — or the thing within him — to feed.
He remembered the Knight's words: 'You will understand when chains find you.'
Was this one of those chains? This craving that promised power, yet reeked of loss?
He forced himself to breathe. Each exhale carried a tremor, but he kept it steady. One heartbeat. Two. The shadow behind him flattened, retreating like a beast cowed. The hunger did not vanish, but it dulled — caged for now.
When he finally looked up, the cavern had quieted. Only a few Dreamstones still pulsed faintly, as if disappointed.
Alpha sheathed his blade and turned away. His body shook from restraint; his hands were pale from strain. He had taken nothing — yet it felt as though he had lost something just the same.
At the cavern's mouth, he paused. For a heartbeat, he thought he saw the Nameless Knight's silhouette reflected in the crystal wall, head bowed, armor dim.
"Feylith," the echo murmured, though no mouth spoke it.
Alpha did not answer. He stepped into the corridor's gloom, letting the whisper fade.
Behind him, one Dreamstone cracked with a soft sigh, leaking light that smelled faintly of rain and ash.
He did not look back.
e corridors no longer held shape.
Alpha walked through stone that bent like water, through halls that breathed. The Labyrinth had changed again — walls pulsing faintly with veins of dim light, the color of old bruises. Each step sounded distant, swallowed before it could echo. He could not tell if he moved forward or merely circled the same wound in the world.
His hand still trembled from the Knight's word. Feylith. It had not faded. Sometimes, between one breath and the next, he swore he heard it whispered from his own heartbeat.
He paused beside a fissure where air seeped cold and thin. Beyond it lay a cavern, its ceiling glittering with dormant crystals. Dreamstones. Hundreds, maybe thousands. Their glow was faint, but they hummed — not sound, but sensation, as though his flaw recognized kinship.
He should have turned away.
Instead, he stepped inside.
The cavern stretched wide, pale dust drifting in the air. The stones hung like sleeping eyes, embedded in walls of fractured glass. Alpha reached toward one, fingertips brushing its surface. It pulsed softly — and in that instant, visions bled into him.
He saw a tower that burned without fire, voices crying from within, faces melting into light. He saw a woman in a silver veil turning to dust, her hand outstretched toward something that was not there. He saw the End — not a creature, not an army, but absence wearing the shape of all it devoured.
Alpha staggered back, clutching his head. The visions scattered, yet the taste of them lingered, bitter and electric. The Veyres window flickered before his eyes, its glyphs trembling — still blank, still mocking.
His flaw stirred. The shadow along his spine rippled, eager. Hunger pressed at his ribs, whispering that a single stone could steady him. Just one.
He grit his teeth and drove his blade into the floor, anchoring himself. "No," he rasped.
The walls quivered. Dust fell in thin veils. The Dreamstones glowed brighter, responding to his denial. They wanted him — or the thing within him — to feed.
He remembered the Knight's words: 'You will understand when chains find you.'
Was this one of those chains? This craving that promised power, yet reeked of loss?
He forced himself to breathe. Each exhale carried a tremor, but he kept it steady. One heartbeat. Two. The shadow behind him flattened, retreating like a beast cowed. The hunger did not vanish, but it dulled — caged for now.
When he finally looked up, the cavern had quieted. Only a few Dreamstones still pulsed faintly, as if disappointed.
Alpha sheathed his blade and turned away. His body shook from restraint; his hands were pale from strain. He had taken nothing — yet it felt as though he had lost something just the same.
At the cavern's mouth, he paused. For a heartbeat, he thought he saw the Nameless Knight's silhouette reflected in the crystal wall, head bowed, armor dim.
"Feylith," the echo murmured, though no mouth spoke it.
Alpha did not answer. He stepped into the corridor's gloom, letting the whisper fade.
Behind him, one Dreamstone cracked with a soft sigh, leaking light that smelled faintly of rain and ash.
He did not look back.