The violet dawn crept slowly across the Obsidian Plains, painting the black sand with faint streaks of blue fire. The silence that followed last night's chaos was thick — too still, too heavy.
Riku sat on a slab of broken stone near their camp. His breathing had steadied, but the weight of the fight still lingered in his muscles. Eclipsera rested across his knees, its edge pulsing faintly with dull light. The relic of Wrath shimmered at his side, quieter now — but still humming, like a beast caged inside his chest.
"You're staring at that sword again," Ren muttered, breaking the silence as he sat beside him. His arm was bandaged in strips of cloth Mina had torn from her cloak.
Riku gave a small smile.
"It doesn't stop glowing."
Ren shrugged.
"Maybe it's trying to tell you something. Or maybe it's just happy it didn't explode this time."
Mina, crouched a few feet away, snorted.
"Ren, not everything is solved by joking."
"That's debatable," he said, smirking faintly before wincing at his bandaged arm.
Arin stood a few paces away, scanning the horizon. Her eyes were distant, troubled.
"He'll come back," she said softly.
Riku looked up.
"Kael?"
She nodded.
"I've seen that look before — in mercenaries, tyrants, even survivors. He's not just hunting relics. He's feeding on them."
The group fell silent.
Mina, still tracing runes in the sand, murmured,
"There's something wrong with the air here. The ground feels… alive."
Ren raised an eyebrow.
"Alive? As in 'let's run,' or alive as in 'let's poke it with a stick'?"
Before Mina could answer, the sand trembled slightly. Beneath Riku's feet, faint lines began to glow — symbols buried deep under the black dunes.
"Whoa," Ren muttered. "Uh, Mina? I think your glowing problem just got worse."
The light grew stronger, forming a spiral that spread outward like a blooming flower. The air vibrated with a low hum — familiar yet alien.
Mina's eyes widened.
"This… it's a memory seal."
Riku frowned.
"A what?"
"They're ancient relic markers," Mina explained, kneeling closer. "The old guardians used them to record memories — voices of the past. But these haven't been seen in centuries."
She pressed her hand against the sigil. The sand rippled — and suddenly, the world shifted.
For an instant, the plains vanished.
They stood in a ruined temple, its walls cracked and covered in faint silver moss. Statues of armored figures lined the hall, each clutching weapons that gleamed with spectral light. At the far end, a giant mural depicted a figure holding ten radiant relics, each with a different glow.
A voice echoed through the vision — deep, ancient, sorrowful.
"The relics were never meant to be wielded by mortals. They are fragments of divine souls — shards of what once was balance."
The group turned as the echo continued.
"When the gods fell, their essence scattered. We built this realm to contain their power. But greed…"
The voice faltered.
"Greed broke the seal. And thus, the Realm of the Dead became what it is — not a prison, but a battlefield."
The light faded. The temple melted back into the black sand.
Ren blinked.
"Okay… anyone else just feel like we saw a flashback trailer for apocalypse: the prequel?"
Arin crossed her arms.
"It explains the relics. They're divine fragments — and that means Kael wasn't lying. He's old enough to remember the fall."
Mina nodded slowly, her tone somber.
"And if he's been collecting relics, he's trying to rebuild something."
Riku stared at his sword, the faint hum now almost sorrowful.
"Or destroy it."
⸻
— Somewhere Far Beyond the Plains —
The scene shifts.
The camera of fate turns to a cavern carved deep into the bones of the realm — a place where light dared not linger.
Kael Veynar sat upon a throne of shattered relic shards, his form flickering like fading fire. His hood was gone, revealing a face half consumed by spectral corruption. The runes on his arms pulsed as he clenched his fists.
Around him, souls knelt — silent, empty-eyed remnants drawn to his power.
"Children," he murmured, voice like fractured glass. "So young… so unworthy. They touch the divine and call it destiny."
He rose slowly, his cloak whispering against the stone. Before him, on a pedestal, floated a small, broken relic — a fragment of the Relic of Truth, cracked and bleeding light.
Kael's expression softened — almost human.
"You showed me once… what the gods were meant to be. But they abandoned us. They left us to rot in silence."
He touched the relic. The moment his fingers brushed it, visions flickered before his eyes — flashes of Riku's battle, of Mina's glowing sigils, of Arin's unerring aim.
"The boy carries Eclipsera," Kael hissed. "The soulbound blade… the heart of the ten."
His fury returned, shaking the chamber.
"If he learns what that sword truly is, it will all unravel!"
He turned toward the shadows, where a faint voice answered — dry and echoing.
"You cannot kill destiny, Kael."
Kael smirked bitterly.
"No. But I can corrupt it."
He lifted his staff. The souls around him began to rise, their bodies twisting into faint forms of warriors — fragments of his army.
"Let them chase their clues, their memories, their hope. Every step they take only leads them closer… to me."
He raised his hand, and the cavern walls pulsed with dark light — revealing murals of the ten relics, all surrounding a single figure: a man holding a blade that split heaven and hell.
Kael's gaze lingered on it.
"The boy doesn't yet know what sleeps within that sword."
A pause.
"But soon… he will awaken it. And when he does — this realm will burn again."
⸻
— Back to the Plains —
Riku's group packed their gear in silence. The vision had shaken them all, but it also gave them something new: direction.
Mina was the first to speak.
"If the relics are divine fragments, then maybe the Fountain of Return isn't just water."
Ren frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"Maybe it's the last piece — the heart of all relics. The source."
Riku looked at her, determination igniting in his eyes.
"Then that's where we're going."
Arin nodded.
"And if Kael gets there first…"
Riku tightened his grip on Eclipsera.
"He won't."
The wind howled softly, carrying with it faint whispers — as if the realm itself was listening.
And somewhere in the distance, Kael's laughter echoed once more — a haunting melody that promised their paths were already intertwined.