Aeryn did not fall.
He dissolved.
The moment the core pulled him in, his senses unraveled—light shredding into ribbons, weight collapsing into nothing, sound stretching into a single continuous thread. His body vanished, his mana scattered. He felt neither warmth nor cold, neither ground nor air.
He floated in a place without form.
A place without direction.
A place that wasn't a place at all.
Then slowly, shapes began to form—a sky of swirling nebulae, drifting islands of crystal, and rivers of shimmering starlight winding through a void without end. It was beautiful, ethereal, impossible.
Yet broken.
Cracked lines ran through the entire realm like fractures in glass. Silver shards of reality drifted loosely, as though the dimension itself had been smashed and barely held together.
Aeryn tried to breathe.
He had no lungs here.
But he forced the instinct anyway.
His voice came out like a faint ripple.
"…Where… am I?"
A second ripple answered him.
Where you began.
Where they forged you.
The voice echoed around the shattered realm, vibrating through the starlit rivers. Aeryn twisted, trying to locate the source—but there was no direction.
He floated, helpless.
Then—
A figure materialized.
Not a monster.
Not a beast.
But something humanoid, composed of swirling silver mist. Tall, regal, its eyes like distant constellations. Its outline shifted like it couldn't hold a stable shape.
Aeryn felt his chest tighten.
It resembled the beings from the murals—the ancient figures carved into the cavern walls.
"Who are you?" Aeryn demanded, though the trembling in his voice betrayed him.
The figure exhaled, and stars flickered.
A fragment. A remnant. A memory.
And you—
The light brightened.
—you are the incomplete one.
Aeryn forced himself upright, even though there was no ground. "Stop calling me that. I'm Aeryn Vaelorian. I'm an elf, not some—"
Elf?
The light twisted, almost amused.
That form was chosen for you. Shaped for you. But your origin… is older.
Aeryn's pulse quickened.
"Why keep telling me this?" he snapped. "What do you want? Why drag me in here? Why haunt me since the surge?"
The figure moved closer, and the shattered space trembled.
Because the Seventh Line needs to awaken.
Because you are the last ember.
Because this realm— the being lifted a hand, gesturing at the broken horizon —was destroyed to seed you.
Aeryn's breath caught.
"…Destroyed? What do you mean destroyed?"
The figure didn't answer immediately. Instead, fragments of memory—foreign yet strangely familiar—flashed in Aeryn's mind:
A vast astral civilization.
Beings of light and starfire.
Seven great sparks anchoring seven divine lines.
A fracture in existence.
A collapse.
A decision.
One spark cast down.
Scattered.
Reborn in mortal form.
Aeryn flinched as the images faded.
His voice was barely a whisper. "Those memories… they're not mine."
Yet they rest within you. Sealed. Dormant. Waiting.
Aeryn shook his head fiercely. "No. I wasn't reborn as some… cosmic thing. I lived a normal life."
Normal?
The realm cracked slightly.
Your surge awakened what your body hid. The power they sealed. The lineage they dispersed. You are not bound by mortality. You only wear it.
Aeryn backed away, fighting against the weight of the truth—or what felt like truth.
"No. You're wrong. I bleed. I feel pain. I fight with effort. I grow slowly. That's not what… whatever you're talking about is."
They made you incomplete, Aeryn.
They scattered your essence across reincarnation.
But the core of you… was always astral.
Aeryn clenched his fists.
"Stop."
You wanted to grow slowly?
A pause.
That was the price of your seal. You start as nothing, climb on your own, and only then reclaim what you once were. That is the only way to survive them.
"Survive who?"
The figure finally stilled.
The stars in its eyes dimmed.
The Devouring Line. The one that consumed our realm. The one that will soon find yours.
Aeryn's blood ran cold.
"There's another… entity? Another lineage? One that destroys realms?"
Yes. The V devours the S. Always.
"Why?"
The answer was simple.
Because existence must be balanced. To them, you are imbalance.
Aeryn's voice dropped.
"And I'm supposed to fight that?"
Not now. Not yet. But you are the only spark left. You were sealed into flesh because it is the one form the Devouring Line cannot detect. Until now.
Aeryn felt his heart lurch in panic.
"They can… sense me?"
They will. Once you fully awaken.
Aeryn closed his eyes.
His thoughts spiraled.
He didn't ask for this.
He didn't want some cosmic destiny.
He wanted to grow strong on his own terms, not as the reincarnation of some astral being.
But the voice pressed on.
Your friends have followed. They enter the core now. You must choose.
Aeryn's head snapped up. "Choose what?"
The figure extended a hand, and two paths formed in the shattered air—silver trails floating like astral bridges.
One burned bright, radiant, powerful.
The other dim, turbulent, unstable.
Two awakenings.
Two versions of yourself.
Aeryn gritted his teeth.
"…Explain."
The first path restores your sealed power. It awakens the full Astral Line. You will become what you were before—the Seventh Spark. Near-limitless potential. But the Devouring Line will sense you immediately. Your world will become a battlefield. And your mortal life—your relationships—will fade beneath the weight of eternity.
Aeryn felt a hollow ache in his chest.
"And the second?"
You remain Aeryn. Mostly mortal. Growing slowly by will, training, effort. Your astral bloodline remains nearly dormant. Hidden. Safe. You will not become the strongest quickly. But you will remain yourself. And your path will remain your own.
Aeryn stared down at the two paths.
His throat tightened.
Power… overwhelming power… was right there.
He could take the first path, become unstoppable, surpass mortal limits instantly.
But he knew the price.
Lunaria.
Kael.
Elyndra.
Aren.
Everyone he cared about—
He would outlive them.
He would become a beacon of war.
His existence would attract annihilation.
His hands trembled.
"…Why give me a choice?"
Because that is the law of the Seventh Spark. You control your fate. Not destiny. Not lineage. You.
Aeryn looked at the dimmer path.
The harder one.
The slower one.
The painful, mortal path.
But also the one where he remained Aeryn—where every victory was earned, not inherited.
He whispered, "I've been weak before. I know what it's like. I know how it feels to be powerless."
The realm trembled.
Aeryn stepped toward the mortal path.
"I'm not choosing the easy one. I'll grow by myself. I'll become strong with my own effort, not because fate shoved power down my throat."
The silver figure didn't speak.
But Aeryn could feel a quiet approval.
He placed his hand on the dimmer path.
A soft shock rippled outward.
The path shone—bright enough to light the realm but not enough to blind it.
So be it.
Your choice is made, Aeryn Vaelorian.
Walk the mortal road. Defy the line. Forge your own strength.
Light surged from the path and wrapped around his body—
Warm, grounding, familiar.
Suddenly—
A thunderous crack shook the realm.
The silver figure twisted sharply.
Your friends… they forced the seal open. They're breaching this dimension.
Aeryn's heart leapt.
"Lunaria? Kael? Elyndra? Aren?! They're here?!"
Yes. But the broken realm cannot sustain more than one mortal form. You must return. Now.
Aeryn nodded fiercely.
"Send me back."
The realm began collapsing.
Fragments of stars rained down like glass.
Cracks spread across the sky.
The astral rivers unraveled.
The figure stepped forward one last time, its voice fading.
Remember—your path is mortal, but your origin is not. Grow slow. Grow steady. Become strong enough to face them in the time you choose, not their time.
Aeryn's vision blurred in white light.
Go.
The dimension shattered.
---
Back in the Core Chamber
A burst of silver energy exploded outward.
Aeryn's body reformed in the real world, collapsing onto the stone floor of the core chamber. He gasped, tasting air again, lungs burning, chest pounding.
Elyndra rushed toward him. "AERYN!"
Aren skidded behind her. "You're alive—thank the gods—don't ever do that again!"
Lunaria and Kael stumbled through the crystallized doorway moments later, both breathless, eyes wide.
Lunaria dropped beside him. "Aeryn—your pulse—it's unstable!"
Kael's voice trembled with shock. "What happened to you?"
Aeryn slowly opened his eyes.
He looked at all of them—his companions, his friends, the reason he had chosen the harder path.
His voice was hoarse, but steady.
"I'm still me."
Elyndra exhaled, pressing her forehead against his shoulder. "…Good."
Aren huffed. "Could've warned us you were planning a cosmic breakdown."
Lunaria touched his cheek, checking his aura. "You're… different. Your mana is calmer."
Kael narrowed his eyes. "And yet… stronger. More controlled."
Aeryn pushed himself up, finally breathing evenly.
"I made a choice," he said quietly. "The realm tried to give me power. More than I'm ready for. But I chose the mortal path."
Lunaria froze.
"A mortal path? You mean… you turned down power?"
He nodded once.
Aren stared.
"You'd better explain that later."
Elyndra placed a hand on Aeryn's shoulder, her voice soft.
"Whatever path you choose… we follow."
Aeryn's chest warmed.
Then—
The core behind them pulsed violently.
A deep crack spread through it.
Kael drew his weapon immediately. "The seal is collapsing!"
Aeryn rose to his feet, silver light flickering faintly in his eyes.
"Then let it collapse," he said.
"We're leaving."
Lunaria grabbed his hand. "And after that?"
Aeryn looked toward the tunnel leading upward, toward the surface, toward the world waiting above.
"After that," he said, voice steady, "I'll grow stronger. Our own way. Together."
The core exploded behind them.