The deeper they went, the more the air changed.
What had once been dense with mana now felt heavy—like the atmosphere itself resisted every step. It wasn't danger in the physical sense. It was pressure. Expectation. As if the entire ruin waited for someone to walk toward its heart.
Aeryn walked in front.
Serin stayed close enough for her sleeve to brush his arm every other step.
Eryndor stayed behind them, silent, watchful, one hand resting on the hilt of his blade though he knew steel meant nothing in a place built by ancient magic.
They descended down a ramp carved directly into the cavern floor. The slope wound in a spiral, and each layer they passed was adorned with murals—scenes of war, of rituals, of a black sun rising over a broken horizon.
Aeryn stopped in front of one mural.
It showed an elf cloaked in silver standing over a human whose body glowed with fractured light.
Serin traced the carved lines with her eyes.
"A High Seer," she whispered. "First Era… maybe even older. They were rumored to shape mana with pure thought."
Eryndor folded his arms.
"And yet even they couldn't kill the entity."
Aeryn stared at the image of the human being forced to bear the seal.
A vessel.
A prison.
A sacrifice.
He swallowed hard and resumed walking.
---
The Chamber with No Echoes
The spiral stopped abruptly.
Ahead lay a massive stone door—far larger than the outer entrance. This one wasn't covered in runes. It was bare, smooth, untouched by time. When Aeryn stepped closer, he noticed something strange.
His footsteps didn't echo.
Serin frowned. "Sound dampening. A spell this strong… it's meant to protect something sensitive."
Eryndor stepped beside Aeryn. "Or contain it."
Aeryn placed a hand on the door.
He expected warmth or a reaction like before.
Instead—
Cold.
The kind of cold that sank instantly into bone.
And then, a faint whisper slipped into his mind like a drop of ink spreading through water.
"You have returned… at last."
Aeryn jerked his hand away.
Serin immediately grabbed his wrist. "Aeryn. What was that?"
He breathed slowly, controlling the shiver crawling up his spine.
"It spoke to me."
Eryndor's face hardened. "The entity?"
Aeryn nodded once. "It said… 'You have returned.'"
Serin shook her head fiercely. "No. Absolutely not. Don't listen to it. It's trying to manipulate you."
Aeryn looked at the door again.
"I think it remembers me."
Eryndor lowered his stance.
"Then open it. Whatever is inside may be the truth we've been searching for."
Serin opened her mouth sharply. "Eryndor—!"
He glanced at her. "We can't walk blindly anymore. The entity's connection to Aeryn is already formed. If there's a way to understand the bond, it lies ahead."
Aeryn exhaled slowly and placed his palm back on the door.
This time he didn't pull away.
A pulse. Then another. And then—
The door opened silently.
Light spilled out—not blinding, not harsh, but cold and silver, washing over their faces like moonlight.
Aeryn stepped inside.
---
The First Seal Hall
Rows of pillars circled the hall, each carved with symbols older than elven language. At the center lay a raised platform—flat, smooth, with intricate grooves carved in spiraling patterns.
A ritual circle.
Aeryn felt his stomach twist.
"This is where the sealing happened."
Serin swallowed.
Eryndor stepped forward, inspecting the circle. "This ritual was not designed for combat. It was meant to bind something eternal."
Aeryn walked slowly around the platform until something caught his eye.
A carved inscription at the edge.
But the characters weren't elven.
They were the same symbols that appeared whenever his system activated.
Aeryn touched the inscription.
And the chamber responded instantly.
Light shot up from the grooves. The pillars ignited in silver fire. The air thrummed with force.
Serin stumbled back. "It's activating!"
Eryndor drew his blade.
Aeryn felt the world tilt—and suddenly—
Everything went silent.
The light dimmed.
The chamber froze.
Serin and Eryndor stood still—frozen mid-breath, mid-motion, like time had halted around them.
Only Aeryn could move.
His breath became the only sound in the world.
He turned slowly.
Someone stood on the ritual platform.
A figure cloaked in tattered silver robes. Hair long and shimmering like moonlit water. Eyes glowing with faint blue light.
Not alive.
Not a ghost.
Something in between—an echo bound to mana.
Aeryn stepped cautiously toward it.
"You're… the one from the memory."
The figure lifted its head.
When it spoke, its voice echoed with layers—as if multiple versions of it spoke at once.
"I am what remains of Seer Vaelir. You have been expected."
Aeryn felt heat rise behind his ribs.
"What do you mean expected? I wasn't even born in this era."
Vaelir tilted his head.
"You misunderstand. We sealed the entity into a human vessel millennia ago. But such a vessel cannot last forever. When the seal finally broke… the mana would seek a new host. A compatible one. One with fractured mana, yet a body resilient enough to hold power beyond mortal limits."
Aeryn's heart hammered.
"Then why me?"
Vaelir's eyes flickered.
"Because your existence… is an anomaly."
Aeryn stiffened. "Meaning what?"
"You were not supposed to be born in this form."
A cold ripple ran down Aeryn's spine.
"What does that even mean?"
Vaelir raised an arm, and light flowed across the chamber, forming an image—a glowing outline of a humanoid shape.
"Your soul is… discontinuous. The pattern is broken. As though it arrived in this world without following the natural cycle of birth and mana formation."
Aeryn inhaled sharply.
Serin had once said his mana felt "alien."
Now he knew why.
He was not reborn naturally.
He was something inserted into the world, against its rules.
Vaelir lowered his hand.
"Such a soul is rare. And vulnerable. The entity sensed this the moment you awakened your mana. It chose you the instant your existence entered its reach."
Aeryn clenched his fists.
"Then I'm doomed from the beginning."
"Not doomed."
Vaelir's voice grew firmer.
"But chosen for a battle greater than you know."
Aeryn met the glowing eyes directly.
"So tell me the truth. All of it."
Vaelir nodded.
"The First Seal is broken. The entity has awakened. And though its power is still fragmented, it is growing stronger through you."
Aeryn felt cold sink into his bones.
"How do I stop it?"
Vaelir extended a hand—and a crystal sphere materialized above his palm.
"Take control of the bond."
Aeryn stared.
"What do you mean… control?"
Vaelir stepped closer, and though he had no physical form, the air shifted like wind brushing past.
"The entity cannot be killed. It is not a creature of flesh or spirit. It is a concept—a hunger given form. To defeat it, you must not sever the bond…"
His voice deepened, echoing through every corner of the hall.
"…you must dominate it."
Aeryn froze.
"What?"
Vaelir lifted the sphere between them. Inside it swirled thick black smoke—like a miniature void.
"You must make its power yours. Bind it instead of letting it bind you."
Aeryn stared at the swirling darkness.
"Is that even possible?"
"For the chosen vessel?"
Vaelir's glow brightened.
"Yes."
Aeryn took a long, slow breath.
"And what happens if I fail?"
The swirling darkness rattled violently against the sphere.
Vaelir answered without hesitation.
"Then the entity will consume your soul and emerge fully into this world. And all creation will fall with it."
Aeryn exhaled sharply.
"So… no pressure."
Vaelir's echo of a smile flickered.
"You carry more potential than you realize."
Aeryn stared at the orb. Black mana scraped at the inside of the sphere like claws.
"Then what do I need to do?"
"To begin… touch it."
Aeryn's breath caught.
Touch it. The thing that tried to take over his mind. The thing that whispered to him. The thing that nearly destroyed him once already.
Aeryn stepped forward.
His hand hovered over the sphere.
He thought of the first time the entity invaded him—the pain, the fear, the way his mana spiraled out of control.
He thought of Serin hugging him tightly earlier, voice shaking as she said she wouldn't let him die.
He thought of Eryndor's quiet, unshakable faith.
He thought of every step that brought him here.
Then—
He set his jaw.
"I'm not running."
His fingers touched the sphere.
The world exploded.
---
The Inner Void
Darkness swallowed him whole.
Cold. Endless. Silent.
He floated in a void without sky or ground. In the distance, something pulsed—like a heart made of shadows.
Then it spoke.
"You again."
The voice slithered through his skull.
"Stop resisting. You were chosen long ago."
Aeryn steadied his breathing.
"I wasn't chosen. I choose myself."
The darkness rippled.
"You cannot dominate me."
Aeryn stepped forward.
"Watch me."
The shadows surged, forming tendrils that lashed toward him. But instead of fear, he felt heat build in his chest—his mana accelerating, pulsing like wildfire.
Light burst from his hands.
He grabbed the tendrils.
The void trembled.
The voice hissed.
"Impossible—"
Aeryn's eyes burned with fierce resolve.
"You picked the wrong vessel."
He tore the tendrils apart.
Light erupted from his body, ripping through the void.
The darkness recoiled—shrinking, condensing, folding inward until it collapsed into a single point of writhing black flame.
Aeryn reached out.
His voice cut through the void like a blade.
"I bind you."
The flame froze.
Then—
It shattered into fragments of black light that shot into his chest, merging with his mana in a single violent surge.
Aeryn collapsed.
---
Return to the Hall
Aeryn's eyes flew open.
He gasped for air, sweat dripping down his face.
Serin was kneeling beside him, shaking him desperately.
"Aeryn! Aeryn, wake up! Please!"
Eryndor held her back gently. "Give him room—"
Aeryn sat upright.
Silver light pulsed faintly beneath his skin—mixed with streaks of black.
Serin froze, eyes wide.
"Aeryn… your mana…"
Eryndor stared in stunned silence.
Aeryn looked down at his hands.
They glowed with a strange mixture of light and shadow—two opposing forces woven together, no longer clashing, but coexisting.
He breathed.
No pain.
No instability.
For the first time in his life… his mana felt steady.
Vaelir's collapsed echo faded into the air, his final whisper drifting with it.
"The first stage is complete… but the true fight begins now."
Aeryn stood slowly.
His voice was quiet but unwavering.
"I'm not the entity's vessel anymore."
He clenched his hand.
"I'm its master."
Serin stared at him in awe and fear and relief all at once.
Eryndor stepped forward.
"Then our path is clear."
Aeryn nodded.
"We go deeper."
And somewhere beneath the ruins, something stirred—awakening in response to the new bond forming within him.
The next stage awaited.