The battlefield grew quiet—too quiet.
The dust had barely settled from my outburst, yet the air felt wrong, thick like syrup, charged with a presence that hadn't been there a moment before. The fragments still thrummed beneath my skin, glowing faintly through my veins like threads of light. My heartbeat had steadied unnaturally fast, as if my body were no longer entirely mine.
Lysara kept her distance.
Not far.
But far enough to tell me she was wary.
"Eryndor…" she murmured carefully, "that pulse you released… I've never seen anything like it. That was divine fusion."
I exhaled shakily. "Wasn't me. Not fully."
"Yes," she whispered, "that's what terrifies me."
Before I could respond, the ground beneath us cracked with a sharp, splintering sound—like ice shifting under weight. A vein of golden light shot through the earth, then vanished.
Lysara's wings flared instinctively. "Stay alert."
Another crack appeared.
Then another.
A lattice of glowing fractures spiderwebbed across the entire field.
The fragments in my hands pulsed violently—once, twice—then went cold.
Cold was worse than heat.
Cold meant danger.
"Lysara?" I whispered.
She swallowed. "This… this is a divine signal. Someone is watching us."
The sky rippled.
Not opened.
Not torn.
Ripples—like something enormous brushed against the fabric of reality.
Wind hammered against us. My knees bent under the sudden pressure, the fragments vibrating like they were trying to crawl out of my skin.
A voice rolled across the world—massive, layered, ancient.
Not speaking in words.
Not speaking in sound.
Speaking in presence.
The sky rippled again. A colossal eye—shaped from light, shadow, and radiance all at once—opened in the heavens, gazing directly at me.
My heart lurched into my throat.
Lysara fell to her knees instantly, bowing her head. "A Divine Watcher…!"
My breath shook.
Not a god.
Not a Herald.
A Watcher.
A being older than pantheons.
A presence even gods feared.
Its gaze tightened—an impossible sensation, like pressure drilling into my soul.
The whispers in my head went dead silent.
Then—
BOOM.
A blast of divine force slammed into me, knocking me backward across the ground. I skidded across rubble, choking on dust, my vision spinning.
The eye glowed brighter.
A pulse of golden light struck my chest. My fragments screamed—literally screamed—inside my mind, a shriek of rage and pain that rattled my teeth.
Lysara fought to stand, wings shaking. "Stop! He hasn't—!"
BOOM.
Another blast hit me, this time spinning me onto my back. My body jerked uncontrollably as energy surged into my fracture.
The divine voice echoed again, now clearer.
"Mortal vessel. You advance too quickly."
I gritted my teeth. "Then stop attacking me!"
"Your fracture expands beyond mortal thresholds. Abnormal. Dangerous. Incorrect."
Incorrect.
The word struck deeper than any divine blast.
Lysara shouted desperately, "He's survived everything! That alone makes him worthy!"
"Survival does not make a mortal stable."
The eye narrowed. A beam of pure light formed at its center—focused, sharpened, aimed directly at my fracture.
The fragments pulsed in terror.
"No…"
"Not that… not that light…"
"It will unmake us…"
I scrambled on the ground, trying to stand, but my limbs felt like stone.
"Lysara!" I gasped.
She didn't hesitate.
She dove between the beam and me—
shielded me with her entire body—
spread her wings wide—
And the beam fired.
A blinding column of golden annihilation slammed into her, swallowing her whole. The force lifted her off the ground, her scream cutting through the air as her form shook violently in the light.
I felt something tear inside me.
"LYSARA!"
The beam finally stopped.
Smoke drifted.
Feathers fluttered through the air.
She collapsed into my arms—breathing, but barely.
Her wings were burned.
Her skin cracked.
Her light dimmed.
But her fingers clutched my tunic weakly.
"Run…" she whispered. "Before it fires again…"
The Watcher's eye rotated toward me once more.
"This vessel is unstable. Correction is required. Termination… possible."
The fragments inside me surged in panic.
Not whispers.
Not temptation.
Screams.
And suddenly I wasn't afraid for myself.
I was furious.
My vision darkened at the edges. The fragments flared white-hot, their glow spreading through my limbs like molten truth. My body rose—shaking, trembling—but rising.
I screamed back at the sky.
"No—no more treating me like a mistake!"
The Watcher paused.
I took one step forward.
Then another.
And the fragments roared through my blood with power that felt nothing like the whispers.
This was raw will.
"I am NOT a vessel," I shouted.
"I am NOT your pawn."
"I am NOT unstable—"
Cracks of light ran across my arms. My eyes blurred with shimmering color.
"I am Eryndor!"
The fragments ignited.
A spiral of flame, water, shadow, and clarity exploded from my back—like wings made of four battling elements.
And I pointed them at the sky.
The Watcher spoke again.
Calm.
Cold.
Almost… interested.
"Unexpected."
The giant eye dilated.
"The mortal resists."
The fragments surged.
"Watch me," I growled.
"Because I'm not done yet."
And the sky began to crack open.