When Rai's eyes fluttered open, the first thing he felt was emptiness. The air was thick, heavy—each breath felt like inhaling centuries of dust and sorrow. He sat up slowly, his cloak damp with condensation. The chamber stretched infinitely, walls carved from black obsidian that reflected dim fragments of light from the glowing runes that slithered across their surface.
He touched one of them, and the rune pulsed—like it was alive.
Instantly, memories not his own flooded into his mind—screams, the clashing of steel, and the faces of hundreds of warriors shouting vows before being swallowed by shadow. He yanked his hand back, panting.
"This place… It's feeding on me," he muttered.
A faint voice answered."Not feeding. Remembering."
Rai spun around, his sword drawn in an instant. Standing behind him was a girl cloaked in white, her hair shimmering faintly like starlight. Her face was calm—too calm—and her eyes glowed a haunting azure.
"Who are you?" he demanded.
"I am the Keeper of the First Floor," she said softly, her voice echoing across the walls. "My name… has been forgotten. But once, I too was Vowbound."
The runes around them flared brighter. Rai lowered his weapon slightly, though every instinct screamed danger.
"The Vowbound?" he repeated. "You mean—like me?"
She smiled faintly, a trace of sorrow behind it. "No. You are the last Vowbound. We were the first."
Before he could respond, the chamber shifted. The walls rippled as if breathing. The runes bent and reformed into countless faces—men, women, and children—all whispering the same words:
"Those who forget their vows will never leave the labyrinth."
The Keeper raised her hand, and the floor cracked open beneath them. A surge of crimson energy spiraled upward, forming a vast arena of floating stone platforms suspended over an endless abyss.
"Your memories, your regrets, your broken promises—they are the chains that bind this world," she said. "To pass, you must face them."
A dark mist formed around Rai, solidifying into figures—phantoms wearing familiar faces. His comrades. His brother. Even Lyra.
"No…" Rai whispered. "Not again."
The Keeper's voice echoed, now cold and distant. "The Labyrinth tests not strength, but truth. You cannot fight shadows with lies."
The phantoms lunged.
Rai moved like lightning, his blade igniting with orange fire as he cut through the illusions—but every strike sent pain surging through him. Each enemy he struck down whispered a memory in his ear.
"You said you'd protect us.""You promised you wouldn't run.""You vowed you'd return…"
Each word cut deeper than any blade.
Rai fell to his knees, clutching his chest. The flames around his sword dimmed. His breath grew ragged.
"Why… why show me this?" he shouted. "They're gone!"
The Keeper's eyes softened. "Because you've chained yourself to ghosts. And until you accept what you've lost, you cannot ascend."
Rai looked down at his trembling hands. For the first time, he saw not the warrior he'd become—but the boy who'd failed everyone.
He whispered hoarsely, "Then let me carry them… not as chains, but as reasons."
The runes around the arena erupted into blinding light. The phantoms paused, then smiled—one by one—before dissolving into streams of gold that flowed into Rai's heart.
The Keeper watched silently as he rose, fire rekindled in his eyes.
"You've remembered your vow," she said. "Then take the first key."
She reached out, pressing her hand to his chest. A golden symbol formed on his skin—a burning sigil shaped like interlocking wings.
"The Key of Resolve. It will open the next gate."
Rai exhaled shakily. "How many more floors?"
The Keeper smiled faintly. "Seven. But beware—each one strips away another piece of who you think you are."
Before he could speak again, the ground beneath him dissolved into light.
And as Rai was pulled upward, the Keeper whispered one last thing:
"The deeper you climb, the closer you come… to becoming the thing you fear most."