"If the Hollow spills outward,
the world will remember the color of silence."
Across Zeharra's northern border,
the wind no longer carried dust or stones —
but the echoes of memories.
The gray walls of Almagh had stood silent for days;
yet it was not peace that filled the air — it was waiting.
When Lian reached the observation ridge at the mountain's base,
the sky had turned a pale shade of violet —
the first physical sign of the Void's presence.
The ground seemed to breathe.
The rocks trembled,
and between them, black threads began to form —
not smoke,
but fragments of corrupted memory.
Flickering images, trembling like echoes:
a child's cry,
a mother's scream,
a battle frozen mid-motion.
And all those visions converged upon a single point.
Far to the north of Almagh,
a rift —
the first breath of the Void made visible.
Lian fell to his knees.
The gray-violet current within his soul pulsed in resonance with this place.
His inner balance moved in rhythm with the Void's awakening outside.
"This is because of you," whispered the voice within,
soft yet razor-sharp.
"You found balance with me.
Now we exist not only inside."
Lian closed his eyes and breathed.
"This isn't spreading," he murmured.
"It's manifestation."
"The same thing," the voice replied,
"Zeharra is beginning to see truth."
Below, chaos rippled through the heart of Almagh.
Spirits wavered;
some dimmed, others flared violently.
But the most terrifying change —
some were turning colorless.
Those who lost their color lost their feeling.
No fear,
no hope —
only emptiness.
The Wardens of Light gathered in the city square.
They struck their golden seals against the ground,
raising a radiant dome of white around the center of the city.
Yet even as the barrier shone,
the echo of the Void seeped through its light.
The Light could no longer contain it.
From the cliffs, Lian watched the scene unfold.
He raised his hands;
violet light shimmered,
and the gray veins beneath his skin began to stir.
A pulse of spirit energy spread outward —
not to strike,
but to listen.
And in that instant,
the world answered.
Not a single voice,
but a chorus.
Hundreds — thousands — of buried emotions:
fear, regret, longing, grief…
all rising together.
Zeharra was crying.
Lian's body shook.
The resonance nearly broke him,
yet it did not destroy his spirit — it aligned with it.
When he opened his eyes,
a figure stood before him —
human in shape, but woven from shadow.
Its eyes held no color.
But Lian knew the voice that followed —
the echo he had once heard in the temple.
"I have no name," said the being.
"But you gave me form."
Lian was silent.
Even the wind held its breath.
"You… are the heart of the Void?"
"No.
I am a fragment of its awareness —
the portion of forgotten feeling that passes through you."
The being lifted its head.
"And now, with you,
I will reshape Zeharra."
The earth trembled.
The sky above Almagh split apart.
The white dome shattered,
and from its center, a column of gray-violet light surged upward —
the Void's first physical breath.
But the strange thing was:
this energy was not destruction.
Wherever it touched,
color returned.
Wilted flowers bloomed again,
veins within stone began to glow.
The Void was not born to destroy —
but to reveal what had been hidden.
The Wardens of Light stumbled back in fear.
Their elder leader — the same one Lian had once met —
watched the pillar with trembling hands.
He struck his staff upon the ground and whispered,
"This… is not pure darkness.
It is the echo of feeling itself."
One of the younger Wardens cried out,
"Master! It's the Void's corruption!"
The old man did not look away.
"No.
It is humanity remembering itself."
Lian turned to the echo beside him.
"Did you cause this?"
"No," said the being.
"We did.
Your search for balance shaped my echo.
Now Zeharra's suppressed soul is free."
Lian stood quietly,
watching the sky painted in gray-violet light.
For the first time,
the darkness did not seem terrifying —
it seemed true.
But then, a shiver passed through him.
He realized something:
as the Void's power spread outward,
his body was weakening
The balance was faltering —
he had given the Void too much space within himself.
"I am not devouring you," murmured the voice.
"You are forgetting your own boundary."
Lian smiled faintly.
"Isn't that what balance is?
You cannot find the line without crossing it first."
By the time the sky faded back to gray,
Almagh was no longer the same city.
Colors shimmered faintly upon its walls,
and in the people's eyes was not fear —
but awakening.
The echo of the Void could no longer be silenced.
It had become part of Zeharra itself.
And Lian knew, in that moment,
this was only the beginning.
To build balance was not to stop the Void —
but to redefine the world.
"Every balance is born from a fracture,"
Lian whispered as he walked away.
"And I have merely opened the first."