The Frontier fog thinned as Aren followed the Remnant deeper into the valley, but the air grew heavier, thicker, as if the world itself hesitated to let them continue.
The path narrowed.
Stone pillars—broken, twisted, and half-absorbed into the mountain—rose like gravemarkers of an ancient era. Runes flickered faintly along their surfaces, not glowing… but resisting being forgotten.
Aren slowed.
"These symbols… they're older than the Academy ruins."
The Remnant nodded once.
"These ruins predate humanity."
Aren's breath caught.
"Then who built them?"
The Remnant walked forward, each step echoing like distant thunder.
"Not built.
Left behind."
That answer made things worse.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
They entered a wide cavern whose ceiling was too high to see—
the darkness swallowed their light.
Shattered columns leaned at impossible angles.
Fragments of metal floated mid-air without support.
Aren looked up slowly.
"…This place is broken."
The Remnant corrected him.
"This place is unstable."
The female operative scanned quickly.
"My device is losing calibration. Gravity readings are… wrong."
The older operative ran a hand along a fractured wall whose surface rippled like water.
"This isn't architecture. It's a wound."
Aren stopped, staring at them.
"A wound?"
The Remnant spoke:
"This is where the world was first cut open."
Aren's heartbeat spiked.
"First cut… by what?"
The Remnant's runes flickered.
"By him."
Aren inhaled sharply.
"The Void King."
"Yes."
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
They reached a massive archway carved into the stone cliff.
But the arch wasn't fully material.
Half of it flickered, wavering like a glitching projection.
Aren stepped closer.
"What is this?"
The Remnant extended a limb, keeping him back.
"An echo-door.
A memory of a doorway that once existed."
"So it's not real?"
"Worse."
Aren blinked.
"…Worse?"
"It is half real."
The Remnant pointed to the flickering part.
"Do not touch this.
Those who touch it become half real as well."
A shiver crawled down Aren's back.
The older operative exhaled slowly.
"We're not turning back, are we?"
Aren shook his head.
"No."
He walked forward.
The echo-door flickered again—
and for an instant, Aren saw something beyond it.
A hallway.
No—
a throne room.
A shadow like a king sitting on a broken chair.
Aren gasped and staggered back.
The female operative grabbed his arm.
"Aren?! What did you see?"
He swallowed hard.
"I think… I think I saw him."
The Remnant remained still.
"The king remembers all places he touched."
Aren exhaled.
"I'm sure he remembers me too."
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Beyond the echo-door, the cavern narrowed again.
A faint purplish glow pulsed inside the stone walls.
Aren stepped carefully as the Remnant's voice lowered.
"You approach your origin."
"My origin…?"
The air hummed around him.
The Voidscar vibrated beneath his skin, responding to something ahead.
A platform appeared at the end of the tunnel—
a floating slab of crystal carved with concentric rings.
Aren froze.
"What is that?"
The Remnant looked down.
"The evolution altar."
Aren felt his throat go dry.
"Evolution… altar?"
"Where you were meant to awaken."
Aren stared.
"Meant to…?
But I awakened at the Academy Obelisk—"
"Incorrect."
The Remnant stepped onto the platform with slow, deliberate weight.
"Your chain was forged here.
Not by the system.
By the king himself."
Aren's mind blanked for a moment.
"…He created my evolution?"
"He prepared it."
Aren stepped back, breath shaking.
"So everything… the void, the unique rank, the chain I severed—"
"Yes.
His design."
Aren clenched his fists, breath sharp and uneven.
"He planned what I'd become."
"He planned what he needed you to become."
Aren's chest tightened.
"So why show me this? Why bring me here?"
The Remnant looked down at him—
not as a monster,
but as a teacher.
"So you may choose a new origin."
Aren blinked.
"My… choice?"
"Yes."
The Remnant gestured to the altar.
"If you step upon this platform and accept the remains of the old chain, the king's path will return to you."
Aren swallowed.
"And if I don't?"
The Remnant stepped aside.
"Then you forge your own."
Silence.
Heavy.
Final.
World-splitting silence.
Aren looked at the altar—
the place where the Void King had intended to shape him.
Then he looked at the bow in his hand—
a weapon he shaped himself.
The operatives waited behind him, breath held.
The Voidscar throbbed.
And Aren whispered:
"…I choose my own path."
He stepped away from the altar.
And the chamber shook.
The Remnant's runes brightened.
"Then the king will come for you."
Aren nodded.
"I'll be ready."
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
But before Aren could take another step—
The altar pulsed.
Light flared.
The air cracked.
A fragment of the old chain—
a shard of pure void—
shot toward Aren's chest.
The Remnant moved too slow.
Aren didn't have time to dodge.
The shard hit him.
CRACK—!
Aren gasped as violet fire raced through his veins.
He dropped to one knee.
His vision blurred, flashing with symbols and fractal shapes.
The operatives screamed his name.
The Remnant loomed over him—
Too late to stop it.
Aren's body shook violently.
The old chain—
the one he rejected—
was trying to attach.
Aren's voice strained, barely a whisper:
"No…
I said NO—"
His Voidscar flared—
And for the second time in his life—
Aren severed the king's claim.
The chain shard disintegrated into dust.
Aren collapsed forward, breathing hard.
The Remnant stared in stunned silence.
"…Impossible."
Aren exhaled shakily.
"I told you…"
he whispered.
"I choose my own evolution."