The Name the Hollow Remembered
Somewhere within the Hollow Expanse—
Nothing moved.
Nothing lived.
Nothing should have.
There were places throughout the multiverse where civilization had vanished.
Worlds ruined by war.
Planets emptied by famine.
Dimensions abandoned after cosmic collapse.
Those places still carried evidence that something had once belonged there.
Ruins.
Roads.
Bones.
Signals.
Memories.
The Hollow Expanse carried almost none.
Here—
Destruction felt older than memory.
Entire systems drifted without stars.
Planets had been broken so completely that their remains formed silent belts of stone stretching farther than mortal eyes could follow.
Some fragments were smooth.
Others jagged.
Some were so enormous they might once have been continents.
No atmosphere surrounded them.
No moons followed them.
No suns warmed them.
Only darkness.
Occasionally—
Something resembling light survived.
A distant star.
Weak.
Colorless.
Barely burning.
Its glow traveled across the expanse without illuminating anything.
Farther still—
Space itself looked damaged.
Great scars stretched between dead systems.
Places where gravity folded incorrectly.
Where fragments of planets drifted upward instead of inward.
Where enormous fields of cosmic debris remained perfectly still despite possessing nothing that should've held them there.
And deeper within all of it—
A planet remained.
Or—
What was left of one.
No sphere.
No atmosphere.
No core.
Just one colossal piece of stone drifting through the Hollow.
A continent-sized fragment torn from something that no longer existed.
Its surface was black.
Cracked.
Silent.
For countless cycles—
Nothing had stood upon it.
Then—
Reality screamed.
KRRRRRSH!
Space twisted.
A thin line appeared above the dead rock.
Violet light leaked through it.
The line widened.
Bent.
Then—
TEAR!
A portal ripped open.
One boot stepped through.
Then another.
A tall figure emerged from the distortion.
His robes moved gently despite there being no wind.
Dark layers wrapped around a lean frame.
Some sections were old enough to have faded from black into charcoal.
Others had been repaired repeatedly, stitched together with threads carrying faint traces of cosmic energy.
His hair fell past his shoulders.
Long.
Dark.
Touched with streaks of silver that hadn't been there when two children first met him on Raezhar.
His face had changed less.
Sharp.
Tired.
Ancient in ways age alone couldn't explain.
And his eyes—
Still carried that same unbearable intelligence.
Caelivar stepped completely through.
The portal sealed behind him.
Silence returned.
For the first time—
The former God of Wisdom stood beneath the dead heavens of the Hollow Expanse.
He looked around.
Then sighed.
"...Miserable."
His voice disappeared into vacuum.
Caelivar didn't seem particularly concerned.
A thin layer of cosmic energy remained compressed against his body, maintaining pressure without radiating farther than necessary.
He began walking.
Slowly.
Each step carried him across stone untouched for ages.
"So."
He spoke to himself.
He'd developed the habit long before Ryu and Luto.
The brothers had merely given him people to blame it on.
"Let's review."
He raised one finger.
"Divine Executioner."
Another.
"Void affinity."
Another.
"Deployed for nearly ten cycles."
Another.
"Conditioned extensively enough that most described his soul as..."
Caelivar's expression tightened.
"...wrong."
He lowered his hand.
"And now..."
"...public execution."
He stopped.
For several moments—
Nothing moved.
Then Caelivar laughed quietly.
Not because anything was funny.
"Idiots."
He'd begun investigating Voidwrath shortly after leaving Ryu and Luto.
At first—
Curiosity.
A name mentioned too often.
A Divine weapon whose existence had somehow spread beyond the usual classified channels.
Then he'd learned something worse.
Onyx.
The eldest brother.
Alive.
Somehow.
And serving the Divine.
After that—
Curiosity had become something else.
By the time the execution was announced—
Caelivar had already begun searching places he hadn't willingly thought about in ages.
Old archives.
Forbidden records.
Fragments of Divine doctrine he remembered from before his banishment.
Names that had been removed from history.
Weapons.
Experiments.
Purges.
Cleansings.
That word remained with him.
Cleansing.
Caelivar's expression darkened.
"...Feels familiar."
Too familiar.
The Divine had done things like this before.
Not exactly.
History rarely repeated itself cleanly.
But the rhythm—
The secrecy.
The sudden change.
The disproportionate response.
It reminded him of older cleansings.
Times when Heaven discovered something it hadn't accounted for...
...and immediately decided nobody else should discover it either.
Caelivar looked into the darkness.
"That's what bothers me about you, Onyx."
Nothing answered.
"You don't make sense."
A weapon that effective wasn't discarded publicly.
A conditioned Executioner wasn't given ceremony.
If Voidwrath had failed—
They could've killed him privately.
If he'd become useless—
They could've dismantled him.
If he'd become dangerous—
They could've buried him somewhere existence itself would forget.
Instead—
A public execution.
An announcement.
A countdown.
Enough Divine movement to make half the multiverse nervous.
Caelivar's eyes narrowed.
"Which means something changed."
Two possibilities continued bothering him.
The first—
The Divine had discovered something.
Something about the Voidwrath.
Something buried inside whatever they'd created.
Something important enough to suddenly transform one of their greatest weapons into a liability.
The second—
Caelivar preferred.
Barely.
"Or..."
His eyes sharpened.
"...the weapon started cracking."
Not physically.
The conditioning.
The obedience.
The empty thing the Divine called Voidwrath.
Perhaps Onyx had begun resisting.
Perhaps his soul had never disappeared at all.
Perhaps—
Somewhere beneath everything Heaven had done to him—
The boy was still reaching.
Caelivar thought of Ryu.
Then Luto.
His expression became quieter.
"...Wouldn't surprise me."
Those two had always been irritatingly persistent, so their brother could not have been any different.
But neither possibility explained everything.
Especially—
The void.
Caelivar stopped walking.
That was why he'd come here.
Not the execution.
Not entirely.
Voidwrath's ability was wrong.
Not impossible.
Caelivar had lived too long to use that word casually.
But—
Rare.
Very rare.
The way reports described it.
Energy collapsing inward.
Space responding around him.
Weapons becoming difficult for others to touch.
Cosmic residue being dragged toward his presence.
It resembled something Caelivar hadn't encountered in—
He frowned.
"...Ages."
Literally.
There were texts.
Old ones.
Older than most modern Divine archives.
Descriptions of a mortal whose relationship with void had surpassed conventional cosmic affinity.
A Sovereign.
Caelivar continued walking.
"Sovereign."
Mortals used the word casually now.
Entire civilizations attached it to rulers who had never come remotely close to understanding what the title originally meant.
But the first Sovereigns—
They had been something else.
The title hadn't existed until the Age of Ascension.
An era born after eons of mortal suffering beneath Divine rule.
At first—
Resistance had been insignificant.
Mortals rebelled.
Gods killed them.
Civilizations rose.
Gods corrected them.
Civilizations fell.
Again.
Again.
Again.
But cosmic evolution never truly stopped.
Each generation changed.
Slowly.
Imperceptibly.
Mortals began surviving environments that would've killed their ancestors.
Their cosmic pathways strengthened.
Abilities evolved.
Resistance grew.
Then—
Five appeared.
Five mortals.
Across different civilizations.
Different races.
Different corners of existence.
None connected.
At least according to surviving history.
Each crossed a threshold no mortal was believed capable of crossing.
And eventually—
A God died.
Not banished.
Not wounded.
Not temporarily defeated.
Killed.
By mortals.
Caelivar smiled faintly.
"Heaven took that rather poorly."
The Divine could have retaliated.
They almost did.
But there was a problem.
Those five mortals had become powerful enough that killing them would require wars.
Not battles.
Wars.
Worlds would disappear.
Expanses could destabilize.
Entire Divine territories might fall with them.
So Heaven did something it rarely did.
Negotiated.
Poorly.
Hostilely.
And with enough threats hidden beneath every word that calling it diplomacy remained generous.
But—
They negotiated.
The five were recognized.
Given kingdoms.
Given territories.
Given titles.
Sovereigns.
Caelivar scoffed.
"Given."
That was how Divine history recorded it.
As though Heaven had generously handed five powerful mortals permission to rule.
Reality had been simpler.
The Divine agreed not to enter Sovereign territories...
...provided the Sovereigns remained out of Divine affairs.
An understanding.
A boundary.
Mutually maintained because everyone involved knew what violating it could cost.
That arrangement changed over the ages.
New Sovereigns rose.
Some died.
Some disappeared.
Some inherited territories.
Some seized them.
The title evolved.
The balance shifted.
But the origin remained.
Mortals powerful enough that Heaven decided diplomacy was less expensive than destruction.
And among every surviving account Caelivar had studied—
There was one anomaly.
One name that wasn't a name.
Caelivar looked farther into the Hollow.
"...Nameless."
He'd heard it only once directly.
From the Fire Sovereign.
Long ago.
Ignovar had mentioned another.
Not one of the five.
Not one of the successors.
Something older.
A Sovereign supposedly older than many of the expanses formed after the First War.
Older than the Age of Ascension.
Older than every recognized Sovereign title.
Caelivar had laughed when he'd first heard it.
Ignovar hadn't.
That ended the laughter quickly.
The surviving references were scarce.
Contradictory.
Mostly useless.
One detail appeared repeatedly.
The Hollow Expanse.
Whatever this Nameless Sovereign was—
They lived here.
And according to every account Caelivar could find—
They had never left.
Not once.
No recorded appearance in another expanse.
No diplomatic visits.
No wars.
No known council appearances.
Nothing.
Why?
No one knew.
At least—
No one willing to write it down.
Caelivar reached into his robes.
A data slab unfolded within his palm.
A rough projection appeared above it.
The Hollow Expanse.
Or—
An insultingly incomplete attempt at mapping it.
Most charts stopped near the outer systems.
Beyond those—
Routes became estimates.
Beyond those—
Guesses.
And beyond those—
Nothing.
Caelivar examined the projection.
A small indicator pointed deeper into the Hollow.
He took several steps.
The marker shifted.
He stopped.
It shifted again.
Left.
Then right.
Then backward.
Caelivar stared.
"...Hm."
He turned the slab.
The marker corrected.
Then immediately contradicted itself.
Caelivar smiled.
Slowly.
"Oh."
He looked into the darkness.
"You aren't lost."
The map flickered.
Coordinates rearranged.
Routes stretched.
Collapsed.
Reappeared elsewhere.
"You're being lied to."
That—
Was considerably more interesting.
The former God of Wisdom lowered the slab.
He'd passed beyond the point where recorded information could be trusted.
Not merely because nobody had mapped this region.
Something was actively making direction meaningless.
Caelivar took another step.
The slab insisted he turn around.
He didn't.
Another.
The map spun.
Another.
Half the projection vanished.
Caelivar's smile widened.
"There you are."
Then—
The rock beneath him trembled.
Caelivar stopped.
Not because of the movement.
Because there shouldn't have been movement.
The planetary fragment had no active core.
No atmosphere.
No tectonic system.
Nothing capable of—
THUM.
The entire fragment shook.
Caelivar's expression changed.
Far above—
One of the few remaining stars flickered.
Then—
Went dark.
Another followed.
Then another.
Not exploding.
Not collapsing.
Simply—
Gone.
The data slab in Caelivar's hand died.
He felt pressure against his body.
Then—
No.
Not pressure.
The absence of it.
Gravity around him had disappeared.
Then multiplied.
Then changed direction.
Caelivar's robes lifted.
His feet left the stone.
And from somewhere deeper within the Hollow—
A voice spoke.
Quietly.
No roar.
No echo.
No anger.
It didn't need any.
"...Which dog of Heaven has wandered into my silence?"
Caelivar's eyes widened.
"I—"
The planet disappeared.
Not broke.
Not cracked.
Disappeared.
The continent-sized fragment beneath Caelivar collapsed into dust instantly.
Billions of tons of stone became a black cloud.
Then even that cloud stretched.
Pulled.
Gravity seized everything.
Caelivar's body shot forward.
"SHIT—!"
The Hollow swallowed him.
Stars stretched into lines.
Dead worlds vanished behind him.
Space folded.
Caelivar tried stabilizing himself.
Golden energy erupted around his body—
Then bent violently backward.
He stopped resisting.
Immediately.
His eyes narrowed.
Observe.
Always observe.
The pull wasn't random.
He was being taken somewhere.
So Caelivar let it.
Faster.
Darkness.
Faster.
Pressure.
Nothing.
Then—
Stillness.
Caelivar landed.
One knee struck stone.
His hand touched something cold.
Wet.
He looked up.
And for perhaps the first time in longer than he cared to admit—
Caelivar didn't immediately understand what he was seeing.
He stood upon a tiny stretch of black land.
An island.
Perhaps.
Around it—
Dark liquid stretched endlessly.
Not black water.
Not exactly.
Its surface reflected nothing.
No ripples formed despite the enormous shapes moving beneath it.
Above—
A colorless sky.
Not gray.
Not white.
Simply absent of color.
Caelivar looked farther.
Something enormous rose from the liquid.
A formation.
Ancient.
Impossible.
It might've been architecture.
It might've been bone.
It might've been the remains of something that existed before either distinction mattered.
More shapes pierced the distant surface.
Towers without entrances.
Arches leading nowhere.
Structures so old that Caelivar couldn't determine when they'd been built...
Then—
The water moved.
Two violet lights appeared.
Caelivar froze.
They rose.
Higher.
Higher.
A serpentine shape surfaced hundreds of feet away.
Then another.
Then—
More.
Massive bodies moved through the dark liquid.
Long.
Twisting.
Nearly impossible to distinguish from the environment around them.
Caelivar couldn't determine where scales ended and void began.
Couldn't determine their size.
Couldn't determine their species.
He could only see their eyes.
Dozens.
Glowing.
Watching him.
Not attacking.
That was worse.
Caelivar slowly stood.
"...Well."
He looked around.
"I've had warmer welcomes."
"Face forward."
The voice came from behind him.
Caelivar turned instinctively.
He made it perhaps three inches.
THOOM.
His body slammed downward.
One knee struck stone.
Then both hands.
Invisible pressure crushed against his back.
No—
Not pressure.
Void.
Black bindings had appeared around his limbs without movement.
Without warning.
Without Caelivar even sensing the energy that created them.
His eyes widened.
"Do not turn."
The voice remained quiet.
Tired.
Ancient.
Not threatening.
Threats required uncertainty.
Caelivar slowly lifted his head.
"...Understood."
The creatures within the water continued watching.
Caelivar tested the bindings once.
Nothing.
Not resistance.
Nothing.
His energy simply vanished wherever it touched them.
Interesting.
Terrifying.
Mostly terrifying.
"I should clarify something before you decide to erase me."
Silence.
"I am not Divine."
The voice behind him remained unchanged.
"You carry their rot."
Caelivar's expression tightened.
"...Formerly Divine."
Nothing.
"Banished."
Still nothing.
The bindings tightened.
Caelivar coughed.
The pressure eased slightly.
He exhaled.
"I didn't come here to cause harm."
"Then why come?"
The question was almost empty.
No curiosity.
No irritation.
Just exhaustion.
The kind belonging to something that had lived long enough for strangers to become repetitive.
Caelivar hesitated.
"...I have a question."
For the first time—
Something almost resembling amusement entered the voice.
"You crossed the Hollow..."
"...for a question."
"Unfortunately."
Silence.
Caelivar couldn't see the figure behind him.
Couldn't identify their wavelength properly.
Couldn't even determine whether he was standing on a planet.
A dimension.
A pocket reality.
The energy here was too concentrated.
Void existed through everything.
Stone.
Liquid.
Sky.
The creatures.
The figure behind him.
Boundaries had become meaningless.
Caelivar swallowed.
"Are you..."
He chose the words carefully.
"...the Sovereign they call Nameless?"
A long pause.
Long enough that Caelivar wondered whether he'd finally asked the wrong question.
Then—
"...Yes."
One word.
Nothing more.
Caelivar's eyes narrowed.
Good.
Or terrible.
Probably both.
"The reason I came concerns a Divine Executioner."
No reaction.
"They intend to execute him."
Nothing.
Caelivar waited.
The creatures watched.
Nameless did not respond.
"...You're remarkably uninterested."
"Divine kill their own."
The voice sounded distant.
"They kill mortals."
"They kill gods."
"They kill memories."
"Why should another death disturb my silence?"
Caelivar had no answer to that.
So he tried the important part.
"This Executioner possesses void abilities."
Silence.
Tiny.
Almost imperceptible.
But—
Something changed.
Caelivar felt it.
Not movement.
Not power.
Attention.
The dark liquid stopped.
Every enormous creature within it became perfectly still.
Caelivar's eyes sharpened.
There.
He continued.
"I've studied void affinities across several ages."
"I've encountered users."
"Creatures."
"Artificial manifestations."
"Nothing behaves quite like his."
Still nothing.
Caelivar's heartbeat slowed.
He remembered two boys.
One angry.
One analytical.
Both saying the same name.
"...Onyx."
The world changed.
For less than a second.
A fluctuation.
So small anyone else might've missed it.
Caelivar wasn't anyone else.
The dark liquid sank perhaps half an inch.
The bindings around his wrists tightened.
One of the enormous beasts beneath the surface lowered its head.
And the energy behind him—
Moved.
Not much.
But it moved.
Caelivar's eyes widened slightly.
Interesting.
He kept his voice neutral.
"His name is Onyx."
Silence.
"The Divine call him Voidwrath."
Nothing.
"They intend to execute him."
Silence continued.
Longer this time.
Much longer.
Then—
One word.
"...When?"
Caelivar's expression didn't change.
Inside—
Every thought sharpened.
There it was.
Not proof.
But something.
He answered.
"Soon."
The bindings remained.
Caelivar could've given the exact countdown.
He didn't.
Not yet.
Instead—
He pushed.
"His brothers intend to retrieve him."
The darkness shifted.
Barely.
Caelivar felt it again.
"...Brothers?"
The word sounded different.
Not louder.
Not warmer.
But for the first time—
Nameless had repeated something he'd said.
Caelivar stared forward.
"Two."
He thought of them.
Ryu.
Luto.
Idiots.
Brilliant idiots.
"They've spent years trying to find him."
The bindings loosened slightly.
Caelivar noticed.
He continued carefully.
"I'm attempting to aid them."
A lie.
Partially.
He had been investigating independently.
Hadn't told the brothers.
Hadn't even known whether he'd see them ever again.
But now—
The distinction didn't matter.
"I'm searching for anything that might explain what happened to Onyx."
"His void."
"His conditioning."
"Why the Divine kept him."
"Why they suddenly want him dead."
Caelivar paused.
"And whether there's anything left to save."
The bindings vanished.
Instantly.
Caelivar nearly fell forward.
He caught himself.
Slowly—
He stood.
He didn't turn around.
That felt important.
Nameless spoke.
"I have nothing for what you seek."
Caelivar's expression tightened.
"Nothing?"
"This has been my home..."
A pause.
"...since before your life learned to call itself ancient."
Caelivar became still.
That sentence—
Wasn't arrogance.
He knew arrogance.
Gods had practically invented it.
This was something else.
Fact.
And beneath it—
Something deeply personal.
Something Caelivar had stepped on without realizing it was there.
For once—
He didn't press.
Behind him—
Nameless continued.
"You will leave."
Caelivar nodded once.
"Fair."
"You will appear at the Echo Rift."
Caelivar frowned.
The Echo Rift.
The boundary between the Auralis Expanse and the Hollow.
That was—
Extremely far away.
"Wait."
He finally risked turning his head slightly.
"How exactly am I supposed to—"
Gone.
No sensation.
No transition.
No portal.
One moment—
Caelivar stood upon the tiny black island beneath a colorless sky.
The next—
He didn't.
The dark liquid remained still.
The ancient formations remained silent.
The enormous serpentine creatures slowly sank beneath the surface.
One by one—
Their violet eyes disappeared.
Until only one figure remained.
For a long while—
The Nameless Sovereign did not move.
No sound crossed that ancient place.
No wind.
No waves.
Nothing.
Then—
Their gaze lowered.
Two eyes opened within the colorless world.
Vertical slit pupils.
Violet.
Cold.
Unblinking.
They looked downward.
Toward what appeared to be a hand.
Something rested within it.
Small.
Ancient.
Impossible to identify.
Nameless stared at it.
For how long—
There was no way to know.
Their fingers slowly closed around the object.
And in a voice that had spent eons forgetting how to carry anything at all—
The Nameless Sovereign whispered one word.
"...Onyx."
Five Pulses
5 PULSES UNTIL EXECUTION.
Astradim had disappeared beneath them.
Almost.
Far below—
The hidden world curved beneath its artificial twilight.
Its mechanical sun hung over the atmosphere like an enormous machine suspended from nothing, thousands of metallic rings rotating around the artificial star at its center.
THUM.
Even from this altitude—
The pulse could be felt.
Weakly.
Artificial warmth reached toward the upper atmosphere before surrendering completely to the cold beyond.
And above it—
Three figures stood on a rock.
A very large rock.
But still—
A rock.
Ryu stared downward.
Then immediately stopped staring downward.
"...I don't like this."
Luto stood several feet away.
"You rode a golem yesterday."
"That was on the ground."
"We're technically above ground."
Ryu slowly turned.
"I hate when you do that."
The platform beneath them was an enormous slab of volcanic stone ripped directly from Astradim's mountain.
It should not have been floating.
Yet pale currents of wind wrapped continuously beneath it.
They spiraled around the stone.
Compressed.
Lifted.
Held.
And standing near the front edge—
Eralyx kept one hand lazily raised.
Golden cosmic energy drifted around his fingers.
Barely any.
Yet the air obeyed.
Wind circled beneath the platform like an invisible pillar, carrying all three higher than Astradim's atmosphere.
Beyond them—
Space unfolded.
And through it—
Something enormous moved.
Ryu stared.
"...That's a current?"
Eralyx smiled.
"No."
Ryu's face fell.
"That's the current."
The difference mattered.
The cosmic current they'd practiced within yesterday had been violent.
Large enough to fill the crater of an extinct volcano.
That now felt like a puddle.
The stream before them was incomprehensible.
It stretched through space like a transparent celestial river.
Except there were no banks.
No obvious beginning.
No visible end.
Stars distorted behind it.
Cosmic dust became long luminous trails the instant it touched the outer flow.
Asteroids drifted near the edge—
Then abruptly accelerated until they vanished.
Color moved within it.
Faint blues.
Whites.
Violets.
Occasional streaks of something almost golden.
Entire layers of cosmic radiation folded together into one vast highway racing through existence.
Luto couldn't accurately determine its width.
Hundreds of miles?
Thousands?
More?
Perspective failed at this scale.
He stepped toward the edge of the platform.
"How fast?"
"Fast."
Luto looked at Eralyx.
"...Very informative."
"I thought so."
Ryu leaned forward slightly.
The outermost edge of the current remained several hundred feet away.
Even from here—
His suit reacted.
Crimson lines flickered across the black material.
"...We're jumping into that."
"Eventually."
"You keep saying eventually right before making us do something terrible."
Eralyx folded his hands behind his back.
"Fortunately for you..."
His voice suddenly carried entirely too much pride.
"...I possessed the remarkable foresight to conceal myself on one of the few hidden worlds with direct access to this particular tributary."
Luto looked toward him.
"You hid here because of the current?"
Eralyx paused.
"...Among other reasons."
Ryu narrowed his eyes.
"So no."
"I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to."
Eralyx ignored him.
He pointed toward the colossal stream.
"This current intersects one of the primary cosmic streamlines approximately three systems from here."
His finger moved.
"That streamline follows the very edge of modern Divine-controlled territory."
Luto's eyes sharpened.
"And the Riven Cut?"
"Connected directly to it."
Ryu looked between them.
"So we ride this..."
"Into the larger current."
"Ride that..."
"Until you reach the Cut."
"And then ride that into the Riven."
"Precisely."
Ryu stared into space.
"...That's a lot of riding."
Eralyx smiled.
"You'll manage."
He gestured toward the current.
"The Riven Cut is remarkably difficult to miss."
Luto glanced at him.
"Despite being partially collapsed."
"Especially because it's partially collapsed."
"What does that mean?"
"You'll understand."
Ryu groaned.
"Oh, great."
"The mysterious answer again."
"You'll recognize it."
"How?"
Eralyx thought.
"...It looks wrong."
Silence.
Ryu looked at Luto.
Luto looked back.
"That somehow helped less."
"The main streamline will carry you nearly all the way there."
Eralyx continued.
"But don't become comfortable."
"The moment you enter that route..."
His humor faded slightly.
"...you're approaching Divine territory."
Both brothers became attentive.
"Your suits will handle reinforcement."
"Your job is concealment."
"Your tether keeps you together."
"Nothing changes."
Ryu looked down at his wrist.
The black bracelet Eralyx had given him no longer looked completely black.
Crimson lines glowed beneath the surface.
Full.
Beside him—
Luto's shone blue.
Ready.
Ryu closed his hand around it.
Five pulses.
That was it.
Five.
Then—
Onyx.
He exhaled.
"...Still better than the way the old man sent us off."
Luto glanced toward him.
Then—
A rare smile.
"...Much better, that was painfully slow."
Eralyx had been turning away.
He stopped.
Just slightly.
"...The old man?"
Ryu looked toward him.
"Our first master."
Eralyx turned back.
"First?"
"Yeah."
Ryu rubbed the back of his neck.
"He found me and Luto after..."
His voice quieted naturally.
"...after we lost Onyx."
Luto picked up where he stopped.
"We ended up somewhere we shouldn't have survived."
"Some planet called Raezhar."
Ryu nodded.
"And this old guy was there."
"Very welcoming description."
"He'd appreciate it."
Ryu looked toward the current.
"He trained us."
Eralyx became still.
"For how long?"
"About ten years."
That got his attention.
Not visibly.
Not enough for the brothers to notice.
But—
His hand lowered.
The wind beneath the platform changed for less than a second.
Luto continued.
"We owe nearly everything we know to him."
Ryu grinned.
"Even if he was weird."
"He was extremely strange."
"He talked to himself."
"So do you."
"Not like him."
Ryu pointed accusingly.
"He'd disappear for hours and come back like nothing happened."
"And then..."
Luto's expression softened.
"...one day he simply didn't come back."
Eralyx watched them.
"...What was his name?"
Ryu answered casually.
"Caelivar."
The wind stopped.
Not entirely.
Just—
A fraction.
Enough that the platform dropped perhaps an inch.
Then stabilized.
Eralyx's molten eyes changed.
The warmth remained.
The irreverence remained.
But somewhere beneath both—
Something ancient opened.
A memory.
A disagreement.
A voice from an age neither brother had witnessed.
Then—
Gone.
"...Interesting."
Luto looked toward him.
Ryu tilted his head.
"Interesting how?"
Eralyx ignored the question.
"Did this Caelivar ever tell you anything about himself?"
Both brothers looked at each other.
Ryu shrugged.
"Not really."
Luto thought longer.
"He taught us."
"But anything before Raezhar..."
He shook his head.
"No."
"He never spoke much about it."
Ryu frowned.
"He did say a bunch of old-person stuff."
Luto stared at him.
"What does that mean?"
"You know."
"No."
"Stuff that sounds important until you realize he didn't actually answer the question."
Eralyx almost laughed.
Almost.
"...That sounds like him."
Silence.
Luto's eyes sharpened immediately.
"What?"
Eralyx looked toward him.
"...Hm?"
"You said that sounds like him."
Ryu slowly looked between them.
"Oh."
Eralyx blinked once.
Luto stepped closer.
"You know Caelivar."
"I didn't say that."
"You just—"
Ryu suddenly pointed at Eralyx.
"WAIT."
He moved closer.
"I knew it!"
"Knew what?"
"You feel like him!"
Eralyx's face remained carefully neutral.
Luto's attention shifted.
Ryu continued.
"I couldn't figure it out before."
"Your energy."
Eralyx's molten eyes narrowed slightly.
"What about it?"
"You hide basically everything."
Ryu gestured vaguely toward him.
"Which is annoying."
"But there's still that..."
He searched for the word.
"...thing."
Luto understood.
"The residual Divine wavelength."
Ryu snapped his fingers.
"That."
Luto looked toward Eralyx.
"Caelivar's was different."
"Much harder to notice."
"But..."
His expression slowly changed.
"...similar."
The air became quiet.
Eralyx looked at them.
Really looked.
Two boys—
No.
Not boys anymore.
Two young men Caelivar had apparently spent ten years teaching.
Ten years protecting.
And judging by everything Eralyx had seen over the last two days—
Ten years preparing.
His gaze moved from Ryu—
To Luto.
Then toward the stars.
"...Coincidence."
Luto immediately frowned.
"No."
Eralyx smiled.
"No?"
"You paused."
"Again with the pauses."
"You only do that when you're withholding information."
"An unfortunate habit."
"What was Caelivar?"
Eralyx turned toward the current.
"Your former master, apparently."
"That's not what I asked."
"And yet it's the answer you're receiving."
Ryu crossed his arms.
"See?"
He looked toward Luto.
"Old-man behavior."
"He's avoiding the question."
"Exactly."
Eralyx's smile weakened.
For perhaps the smallest moment—
There was sadness there.
Neither brother caught it.
"Another time."
Luto's eyes narrowed.
"Now."
Eralyx clapped once.
The mood broke.
"Let's ensure you survive long enough to interrogate me properly."
Ryu pointed at him.
"That's not over."
"I'm devastated."
Eralyx walked toward the rear edge of the floating platform.
"Final instructions."
Both brothers reluctantly turned.
The enormous current roared silently behind them.
"Once this tributary reaches the main streamline, the velocity will increase dramatically."
Luto nodded.
"How dramatically?"
"Yes."
Luto's eye twitched.
Ryu laughed.
Eralyx continued.
"Before reaching the Riven Cut, there are several points where the streamline passes close enough to stable celestial bodies for you to exit safely."
A projection appeared above his hand.
A thin silver line.
Several tiny points blinked beside it.
"If something is wrong..."
"If your tether fails..."
"If concealment becomes unstable..."
"If either of you believes you're being tracked..."
"...leave the current."
Luto memorized the points immediately.
"Can we reenter?"
"If you're close enough."
"How?"
"Same principle you used yesterday."
"Enter with the flow."
"Never against it."
"Compress before contact."
"Let it take you."
Ryu nodded.
"And once we pass the last one?"
Eralyx's expression became serious.
"Then you're committed."
The projection changed.
One point disappeared.
Then another.
Only the thin current remained—
Leading toward darkness.
"Once you enter the Riven Cut..."
"...there is no reliable exit before the Riven."
Neither brother joked.
"The Cut will carry you straight through."
"It won't slow down."
"It won't wait for you."
"And it won't care where inside the Riven you emerge."
Luto frowned.
"So we choose our entry point."
"Within reason."
"The Cut fractures near the Riven boundary."
"Several branches pass through damaged sections of their dimensional perimeter."
Eralyx pointed at him.
"Watch."
"Think."
"Choose the route that gives you the best chance of entering near the deadzone."
"And assume..."
His gaze hardened.
"...you'll be fighting the instant you arrive."
Ryu rolled his shoulders.
"Was already planning on it."
"Don't plan on fighting."
Eralyx corrected.
"Plan on surviving."
Ryu looked at him.
Then nodded.
"Right."
Eralyx looked between them.
"Bracelets?"
Ryu raised his wrist.
Crimson.
Luto raised his.
Blue.
"Charged."
"Suits?"
"Active."
"Tether?"
The brothers looked at each other.
Then—
Ryu lifted his hand.
Luto did the same.
"Not yet."
Eralyx nodded.
"Far Anchor?"
Luto touched the small device secured beneath his suit.
"Ready."
"Excellent."
Eralyx smiled.
"Then I believe I've done everything possible to prevent your immediate deaths."
Ryu stared.
"...Immediate?"
"I can't work miracles."
"You used to be a god!"
"Lesser God."
"Still counts!"
"Debatable."
Luto stepped toward the edge of the platform.
Then stopped.
He looked back.
"...About Caelivar."
Eralyx sighed.
Of course.
"What did you mean when you said coincidence?"
"I meant..."
He moved behind Luto.
"...that you ask entirely too many questions."
Luto's eyes widened.
"Wait—"
Eralyx shoved him.
"WHAT THE—?!"
Luto fell from the platform.
Straight toward the current.
"ERAAAAALYX!"
Ryu stared.
Then slowly looked toward Eralyx.
"...You pushed him."
"Yes."
"Without tethering us."
Eralyx looked toward Ryu.
"...That does seem like an oversight. Well, better get going then!"
Ryu's eyes widened.
"Don't you—"
Eralyx pushed him too.
"YOU BASTARD—!"
Ryu disappeared over the edge.
Eralyx walked calmly toward it.
Below—
Two black-suited figures tumbled through open space toward the colossal current.
"LUTOOOO!"
"I'M TRYING!"
"WE DIDN'T TETHER!"
"I KNOW!"
"HE PUSHED US!"
"I NOTICED!"
Eralyx laughed.
Wind erupted around both brothers.
WHOOOOOM!
It accelerated them.
Ryu's scream became significantly less dignified.
"ERAAAAALYYYYX!"
Eralyx lifted one hand.
For the first time since they'd arrived—
He didn't have another lesson.
Another test.
Another warning.
Only two brothers disappearing toward a war no teacher could prepare them for.
His smile softened.
"...Try not to die before doing something interesting."
Ryu's distant voice somehow reached him.
"NEXT TIME I SEE YOU I'M GETTING YOU BACK FOR THIS!"
Eralyx's smile remained.
"...I'm sure you will."
The words were quiet.
Too quiet for Ryu to hear.
Then—
The current caught them.
WHOOOOOOOOOM!
Both brothers vanished.
Eralyx remained at the edge of the platform.
Watching.
Long after their cosmic signatures disappeared from even his senses.
For several moments—
There was nothing behind his molten eyes.
Then—
"...Caelivar."
A name from much further back than Astradim.
He lowered his gaze.
A faint smile returned.
"You troublesome bastard."
The rock platform slowly began descending.
And Eralyx watched two distant lights become part of the stars.
"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"
Ryu spun.
Once.
Twice.
Five times.
He had absolutely no idea which direction Astradim was anymore.
"STOP SPINNING!"
Luto's voice came from somewhere.
"I'M NOT DOING IT ON PURPOSE!"
"COMPRESS!"
"I'M TRYING!"
The current had them.
Completely.
Their suits immediately activated.
Black material tightened across their bodies.
Crimson and blue lines ignited.
Cosmic energy flooded around them.
Ryu's fire expanded.
Too far.
FWOOOM!
The current violently jerked him sideways.
"OH, COME ON!"
Luto's lightning compressed tighter.
Not enough.
He rolled through a wave of cosmic pressure.
"RYU!"
"I'M HERE!"
"THAT DOESN'T HELP!"
"YOU ASKED!"
"GET CLOSER!"
"I'M TRYING!"
They couldn't hear each other properly anymore.
Not really.
The current ripped sound apart almost instantly.
Words became vibrations through their suit systems.
Fragments.
Noise.
Ryu forced his body inward.
Not physically.
Cosmically.
Stop announcing yourself.
Eralyx's voice.
Don't resist.
The fire tightened.
Closer.
Closer.
His presence compressed.
The current stopped throwing him as violently.
"There!"
Luto twisted toward him.
Blue energy hugged his body.
Ryu reached.
Luto reached.
Their hands nearly missed.
Then—
Contact.
Backs of their hands.
Index fingers.
Cosmic energy.
Red met blue.
Their fingers intertwined.
Down.
Pull.
Separate.
The tether formed.
Everything changed.
Ryu's eyes widened.
There.
Luto.
Not merely somewhere nearby.
There.
Direction.
Movement.
Strain.
Presence.
Luto felt him too.
No shouting necessary.
They adjusted together.
Ryu shifted.
Luto followed.
Luto corrected.
Ryu felt it.
Their bodies stopped tumbling.
Slowly—
They aligned with the current.
Feet behind.
Heads forward.
Cosmic layers compressed tightly against the suits.
And then—
They flew.
Not like a ship.
Not like a portal.
Nothing either brother had ever experienced.
Astradim fell away behind them.
Its mechanical sun became smaller.
The hidden world shrank.
Then smaller still.
Until—
For the first time—
The brothers saw the universe from inside one of its veins.
Ryu forgot to speak.
Luto did too.
Stars surrounded them.
Not distant points through a window.
Entire suns passed across the horizon.
Nebulae stretched like painted clouds spanning systems.
Planetary rings gleamed beneath foreign starlight.
Cosmic storms flashed silently millions of miles away.
Ancient debris drifted through empty space.
The current bent around celestial bodies.
Passed beneath moons.
Between systems.
Through regions of existence no ordinary route would've ever allowed them to see.
Ryu's eyes widened.
"...Wow."
The word barely survived.
Luto smiled.
For once—
No correction.
No explanation.
Just—
Wow.
They were streaks now.
Crimson.
Blue.
Two shooting stars riding something older than civilizations.
And somewhere ahead—
Onyx.
The tether pulsed.
Ryu felt Luto's determination.
Luto felt his.
Neither needed to say it.
Then—
Something changed.
Luto noticed first.
The current narrowed.
Ryu's suit vibrated.
Their bodies began moving faster.
Much faster.
Stars stretched.
The distant lights became lines.
Astradim disappeared completely.
Luto's eyes widened.
The tributary.
They were approaching the main streamline.
The current beneath them suddenly dropped.
Or turned.
Or folded.
Neither could tell.
Then—
WHOOOOOOOOOM!
Acceleration struck them like a physical blow.
Ryu's face pulled backward.
His eyes widened.
Luto's entire body straightened.
Their tether screamed with shared alarm.
The universe became light.
Ryu tried shouting.
Nothing came out.
He compressed harder.
Fire flattened against his body.
Luto did the same.
Blue lightning vanished beneath the black surface of his suit.
Concealment.
Focus.
Don't resist.
Faster.
Faster.
Faster.
Ryu somehow forced his head toward Luto.
His cheeks were being pulled backward by velocity.
He opened his mouth.
"WE—"
The current accelerated.
"ARE—"
Luto struggled to turn toward him.
"NOT—"
Another violent surge.
"STOPPING!"
Luto's eyes widened.
He knew.
He had already realized.
The main streamline had them now.
He forced his head sideways.
Barely managed to open his mouth.
"...I—"
Faster.
"...know—"
Then—
They were gone.
Two concealed streaks of cosmic light blasted down the ancient current.
Toward Divine territory.
Toward the Riven Cut.
Toward their brother.
Five pulses remained.
The Grave of Vanthelos
26 Pulses Ago
Vanthelos was silent.
Not peaceful.
Silent.
From space—
The planet looked split in half.
It wasn't.
Not yet.
A wound stretched across more than half its circumference.
Entire continental plates had shifted from where they belonged.
Mountain ranges ended abruptly at open space.
Oceans had poured into ruptures thousands of miles deep, only to boil away before ever reaching the exposed mantle.
The crust had separated so violently that enormous sections of the world no longer aligned.
And through the widest portions of the planetary wound—
Light escaped.
Deep below the shattered crust—
The mantle burned openly.
Farther still—
Something brighter pulsed.
Faint.
Unstable.
The exposed remains of Vanthelos's wounded core.
Yet somehow—
The planet remained together.
Great bridges of mantle and crust still connected both sides.
Ancient structural veins stretching through the rupture.
Holding.
Barely.
Every few moments—
One broke.
CRRRRRRRK.
Another portion of the planet shifted.
Fragments the size of cities drifted into space.
The atmosphere bled behind them.
Lightning crawled through clouds that no longer obeyed weather.
Whole sections of the world burned without flame.
And through that dying sky—
Something moved.
Fast.
A streak of violet-white light pierced the atmosphere.
Then—
SHHHHHHHRK!
It banked sharply.
Ilyra leaned forward.
Her boots remained locked against a narrow hoverboard beneath her feet.
At first glance—
It resembled the standard transit boards used throughout Veltraxis.
At first glance.
There was nothing standard about this one.
Its frame was thinner.
Longer.
Built from a dark metallic material that shifted almost fluidly beneath her weight.
Lines of pale violet energy ran beneath its surface in patterns that responded instantly to Ilyra's cosmic wavelength.
Small stabilizing rings rotated along either side.
Dimensional anchors.
Portal nodes.
Atmospheric regulators.
Several systems Veltraxis had never put into public circulation.
Because Veltra had made this one for her.
Long ago.
Back when the two of them still traveled together.
Before responsibility became titles.
Before titles became distance.
The board tilted.
Ilyra dropped through another burning cloud layer.
Her eyes remained fixed on the world below.
"...What happened here?"
Lady Seralyndra had told her where the brothers intended to go.
Vanthelos.
That alone had been enough.
Ilyra expected damage.
Trouble followed Ryu with irritating consistency.
Not—
This.
Another continental fragment tore loose beneath her.
Ilyra pulled upward.
The board responded before the movement was complete.
WHUM!
A portal flashed open.
She passed through.
Space folded.
Then—
She emerged hundreds of miles farther along the planet.
Her expression grew worse.
Everywhere.
The damage was everywhere.
And underneath it—
Energy.
Ilyra slowed.
Her eyes narrowed.
"...Divine."
The atmosphere was saturated with it.
Not faint traces.
Not the residual signature left behind when an Angel passed through somewhere.
This was concentrated.
Violent.
Multiple releases.
Enough Divine energy had been discharged across Vanthelos that entire sections of the atmosphere still carried its wavelength.
Ilyra descended.
One hand extended.
Cosmic energy spread from her fingertips.
Feeling.
Separating.
Reading.
The Divine residue dominated almost everything.
But—
Not everything.
Something pushed against it.
Faint.
Dying.
Yet unmistakably different.
Ilyra's eyes sharpened.
"...Someone fought back."
She followed it.
The board accelerated.
WHOOOOOM!
Vanthelos blurred beneath her.
Broken forests.
Collapsed mountains.
Cities reduced to geometric shadows burned into stone.
Crater fields large enough to swallow nations.
Ilyra's gaze moved constantly.
Divine strikes.
Impact patterns.
Energy displacement.
Then—
Again.
That second signature.
Not Ryu.
Not Luto.
Something else.
Something old.
Powerful.
And everywhere she found it—
She found Divine residue crashing against it.
Ilyra's jaw tightened.
"A fight."
No.
She looked across the scale of destruction.
Not merely a fight.
Something had happened here that the planet itself hadn't been capable of surviving.
Her thoughts accelerated.
Did they arrive before the brothers?
Were they followed?
Did the Divine know where they were going?
Her chest tightened.
Are they alive?
The board surged faster.
Another quake traveled through the planet.
Even at altitude—
Ilyra felt it.
The world beneath her shifted.
One of the remaining mantle bridges broke.
A deep orange line appeared across the horizon.
Ilyra looked downward.
Vanthelos didn't have long.
Maybe hours.
Perhaps less.
Eventually its remaining structure would fail.
Gravity would do the rest.
The damaged halves would begin pulling unevenly against one another.
Collapse.
Fragment.
Perhaps tear what remained of the core apart in the process.
Whatever happened—
Vanthelos was already dead.
It simply hadn't finished falling apart.
Then—
Ilyra reached the wound.
She stopped.
Completely.
The hoverboard suspended her above it.
And for several seconds—
Even she forgot to breathe.
The trench stretched beyond sight.
Calling it a canyon would've been absurd.
This was planetary anatomy exposed to space.
Layer after layer of crust descended below her.
Stone strata thousands of feet thick had been peeled apart.
Far beneath—
The mantle burned.
Rivers of molten material crawled through the wound like veins.
Debris floated upward through unstable gravitational fields.
Everywhere she looked—
Divine residue.
Ilyra slowly moved forward.
Following the trench.
Her eyes scanned one side.
Then the other.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing—
She stopped.
"...Wait."
There.
Faint.
So faint she nearly dismissed it as dying atmospheric interference.
An energy signature.
Ilyra turned sharply.
The board followed.
She descended into the wound.
Heat immediately struck her.
The board's shielding activated.
WHUM.
A thin barrier formed around her.
She followed the signature deeper.
Past fractured stone.
Past floating debris.
Past streams of molten rock leaking through cracks.
The energy grew slightly stronger.
Then weaker.
Then—
Ilyra saw it.
A cavern.
Half hidden inside the trench wall.
She accelerated toward it.
The board crossed through the opening.
Darkness swallowed her.
Its lights activated.
Thin violet strips illuminated the cavern.
Cracked stone.
Collapsed walls.
Scorch marks.
Then—
Ilyra's board slowed.
Her eyes dropped.
A circle had been carved into the ground.
Damaged.
Partially buried beneath debris.
But still—
A circle.
Ilyra stepped off the board.
It remained floating beside her.
She crouched.
Placed two fingers against the cracked inscription.
Closed her eyes.
Nothing.
Then—
Something.
Residual spatial distortion.
Someone had used it.
Recently.
Very recently.
But the energy had been scrambled too severely.
Divine residue.
Planetary instability.
Whatever powered the circle.
Everything had blended together.
Ilyra frowned.
"Come on..."
She pushed deeper.
Still nothing identifiable.
Not Ryu.
Not Luto.
Not anyone.
Only one fact remained clear.
Someone had left Vanthelos through this circle.
Ilyra slowly stood.
"...Please."
She didn't know who she was speaking to.
Then—
A voice.
Weak.
Distorted.
"...You're late."
Ilyra froze.
Her head turned.
Nothing.
Then—
Again.
"...Over here."
Ilyra moved immediately.
Past a collapsed section of cavern.
Around an enormous slab of broken stone.
And stopped.
Her expression changed.
"...Who are you?"
A fairy lay several yards away.
Tiny.
Motionless.
Resting within something enormous.
A hand.
No.
An arm.
Caelren's arm.
Severed above the elbow.
Whatever remained of the rest of him—
Was nowhere in sight.
The hand had landed palm-up.
And in its center—
Tikka rested.
As though even after everything else had been destroyed—
It had caught her.
Ilyra rushed forward.
"Tikka." The fairy weakly replied.
Ilyra dropped beside her.
The fairy didn't bleed.
There was nothing left to bleed.
Her body had become translucent.
Small particles separated from her skin every few seconds.
Glittering.
Fading before they touched the ground.
Her wings were almost completely gone.
One flickered weakly.
Then vanished.
Then returned.
Ilyra swallowed.
"Tikka."
The fairy's eyes opened slightly.
"...Took you..."
Her voice distorted.
"...long enough."
ILyra looked around.
"Where's Caelren?"
Tikka stared at her.
The answer came quietly.
"...Gone."
Ilyra's expression hardened.
Her eyes moved toward the severed arm beneath Tikka.
Then toward the rest of the cavern.
Nothing.
"...Who did this?"
Tikka's face tightened.
Trying to remember.
"The..."
Static passed through her voice.
"...Divine."
Ilyra became still.
"They came."
"When?"
Tikka's eyes drifted.
"I..."
Another piece of her shoulder separated into light.
"...don't know."
Ilyra leaned closer.
"What happened to Ryu and Luto?"
Tikka's eyes moved toward her.
Recognition flickered.
"The brothers."
Ilyra nodded quickly.
"Yes."
"The brothers."
Tikka smiled weakly.
"...They ran."
Ilyra's breath caught.
"Ran?"
"Not..."
Tikka's voice fractured.
"...ran."
Her brow tightened.
"Left."
"Escaped?"
A pause.
Then—
"...Yes."
Ilyra closed her eyes.
Just briefly.
Relief struck harder than expected.
"They're alive."
Tikka didn't answer.
Perhaps she didn't hear.
Perhaps she couldn't remember anymore.
Ilyra opened her eyes.
"Where did they go?"
Tikka stared upward.
"The circle."
Ilyra looked back toward it.
"Do you know where?"
"...Fire."
Ilyra frowned.
"Fire?"
Tikka's eyes closed.
"Someone's..."
Her voice glitched.
"...domain."
The memory slipped.
She shook her head weakly.
"No."
Ilyra didn't push.
Not yet.
"What did the Divine want?"
Tikka became still.
That question—
Reached something.
Something buried beneath the fading fragments.
Her tiny fingers twitched.
"They..."
A distortion passed through her entire body.
Ilyra leaned closer.
"What?"
"They took..."
Silence.
Tikka frowned.
"...something."
"What did they take?"
"I..."
Her eyes widened faintly.
For one second—
Fear.
"...can't..."
The thought broke apart.
Particles escaped from her forehead.
"...remember."
Ilyra stared.
Not ordinary forgetting.
Something was missing.
Perhaps damaged.
Perhaps removed with everything else.
Tikka tried again.
"The boy..."
"Which boy?"
"...Ryu."
Ilyra leaned closer.
"What about Ryu?"
Tikka's eyes moved rapidly beneath half-closed lids.
"There was..."
Her voice split.
"...another..."
Ilyra's expression changed.
"Another what?"
Nothing.
Tikka stared through her.
"...No."
The memory was gone.
Ilyra waited.
But whatever Tikka had reached—
Had faded before she could grasp it.
The fairy exhaled.
Her entire body flickered.
Ilyra knew.
There wasn't anything she could do.
She'd seen death.
Many times.
But this wasn't exactly death.
Tikka's existence was unraveling.
Whatever sustained beings like her had been damaged beyond recovery.
Ilyra lowered her voice.
"...Thank you."
Tikka's eyes opened slightly.
"For what?"
"For waiting."
A faint smile.
"...Didn't."
Ilyra blinked.
Tikka's smile widened by the smallest amount.
"...Couldn't move."
Ilyra laughed.
Quietly.
Of course.
"Still counts."
"...Cheater."
Another cluster of particles lifted from Tikka's body.
Ilyra looked toward Caelren's hand.
Then back.
"I'm sorry."
Tikka's expression softened.
"...Don't."
A pause.
"He'd hate..."
Her voice fractured.
"...that face."
Ilyra raised an eyebrow.
"What face?"
Tikka barely managed it—
But somehow looked smug.
"...That one."
Ilyra shook her head.
Even here.
Even now.
"...Goodbye, Tikka."
The fairy's eyes closed.
Ilyra stood.
For a moment—
She remained there.
Then turned.
Her hoverboard drifted toward her.
One foot stepped onto it.
Then—
"...He knew."
Ilyra stopped.
She turned back.
Tikka's eyes had opened again.
Barely.
"What?"
"...He knew."
"Who?"
Tikka looked down.
Toward the hand holding her.
Caelren.
Ilyra's expression changed.
"What did Caelren know?"
The fairy struggled.
Fragments separated faster now.
"As soon as..."
Her voice faded.
Then returned.
"...they came."
"The Divine?"
Tikka shook her head weakly.
"The brothers."
Silence.
Ilyra stepped closer.
"What about them?"
Tikka's smile returned.
Small.
Knowing.
Sad.
"...He knew."
"Knew what?"
But Tikka didn't answer.
Perhaps she couldn't.
Perhaps she simply wouldn't.
Her body brightened.
Softly.
Not violently.
The remaining particles began lifting together.
Ilyra stared.
"Tikka?"
The fairy looked toward her one final time.
Smiling.
Then—
She disappeared.
No explosion.
No sound.
No body left behind.
Only a handful of tiny lights drifting above Caelren's open palm.
One by one—
They faded.
Ilyra stood alone.
Silence returned to the cavern.
But outside—
Vanthelos finally began to die.
CRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAACK!
The cavern shook violently.
Ilyra turned.
The trench outside widened.
An enormous section of crust detached.
Molten light flooded through newly opened fractures.
The remaining gravitational balance of the planet shifted.
Rock began collapsing inward.
Vanthelos had reached its brink.
Ilyra stepped onto her board.
"Go."
WHOOOOOM!
It launched forward.
She tore through the cavern.
Into the trench.
Up.
Faster.
Stone collapsed beneath her.
Chunks of continental crust slammed together behind her.
Gravity convulsed.
The board's dimensional anchors activated automatically.
Four small rings expanded around its edges.
Stabilizing.
Correcting.
Ilyra shot toward the atmosphere.
Below—
The planetary wound widened.
One of the final structural bridges snapped.
Then another.
Vanthelos's two largest remaining sections began pulling against each other at different angles.
The core flared.
The entire world trembled.
Ilyra broke through the upper atmosphere.
Then turned.
For a moment—
She simply watched.
Vanthelos.
The place Ryu and Luto had come seeking answers.
The place Caelren had apparently died protecting.
The place the Divine had reduced to a grave.
Her hands tightened.
Divine residue.
Something taken.
Caelren knowing the moment the brothers arrived.
None of it fit.
And ahead—
The Riven waited.
Her data slab activated.
A directional marker appeared.
RIVEN — ESTIMATED VECTOR
Ilyra stared at it.
Nine pulses estimated travel time.
If the execution knews had been right—
That was where the brothers were going.
That was where the Voidwrath was.
That was where every obvious answer pointed.
She leaned forward—
Then stopped.
A memory surfaced.
Not Vanthelos.
Not Tikka.
Veltraxis.
Veltra.
A conversation from long ago.
Only fragments returned.
A name left unsaid.
A debt.
Someone who had once helped Veltra when no one else would.
Someone Veltra had warned her never to seek unless there was no other choice.
Ilyra's eyes narrowed.
Another fragment.
If you ever need them...
Then—
Nothing.
She looked toward the Riven marker.
Her jaw tightened.
Brute strength wasn't enough.
Not this time.
Not against whatever had done this.
Not against whatever awaited the brothers.
Ilyra slowly turned her board.
Away from the Riven.
The navigation marker rotated urgently.
She ignored it.
Far behind her—
Vanthelos collapsed further into itself.
The dying planet disappeared beneath expanding debris.
Ilyra looked once over her shoulder.
Then forward.
Her face held something difficult to name.
Fear.
Determination.
Worry.
Perhaps all three.
The board's dimensional anchors ignited.
Space bent ahead of her.
A portal began opening.
And while every path she had followed until now pointed toward the Riven—
Ilyra went the other way.
Heaven Arrives
5 PULSES UNTIL EXECUTION.
The Riven had never been beautiful.
Not in the conventional sense.
Its sky moved too much.
Space bent where it shouldn't.
Color shifted without warning across enormous atmospheric fractures, and distant sections of the dimension occasionally seemed closer than objects directly ahead.
The terrain wasn't much better.
Mountains leaned at impossible angles.
Rivers climbed.
Gravity changed depending upon where one stood.
Entire regions existed beneath permanent cosmic storms.
But there was one place within the Riven that had become particularly infamous.
The Deadzone.
And today—
Heaven had occupied it.
The canyon stretched for hundreds of miles.
Massive cliffs rose on either side, their surfaces scarred from battles so old that nobody remaining could agree who had fought them.
Nothing grew here.
Nothing lived here.
The stone had been burned too many times.
Cut too deeply.
Saturated with too much cosmic energy from too many wars.
Above it—
Ships.
Thousands.
They crowded the Riven sky.
Divine carriers stretched across entire sections of atmosphere.
Escort vessels moved between them in disciplined formations.
Smaller interceptors patrolled constantly.
Supply ships.
Medical vessels.
Troop transports.
Reconnaissance craft.
Artillery platforms.
And above all of them—
The warships.
The largest vessels remained suspended at varying altitudes over the canyon.
Gigantic.
Armored.
Divine insignias burned across their hulls.
Rows of weapon ports faced outward toward every possible approach.
Some carried enough firepower to erase cities.
Others—
Continents.
Throughout the canyon floor—
Heaven had built camps.
Not one.
Dozens.
Thousands of Divine Guard moved between temporary fortifications.
Armor gleamed beneath the turbulent light.
Weapons rested against modular barricades.
Command towers had been erected against cliff walls.
Medical stations.
Supply depots.
Armories.
Deployment platforms.
Everywhere—
Preparation.
Along the canyon's perimeter—
Barrier stations hummed.
Huge metallic pylons had been driven directly into the stone.
Each projected a section of translucent golden energy overhead.
Layer after layer connected.
Forming an enormous defensive shell across the Deadzone.
Behind those—
Another barrier.
Then—
Another.
And farther within—
At the very end of the canyon—
The execution grounds waited.
A colossal structure had been constructed between two cliff faces.
Or perhaps—
Around something already there.
A bridge extended toward it.
Long.
Narrow.
Suspended above a seemingly bottomless fracture in the canyon.
At its end stood an enormous circular gateway.
Black stone.
Golden inscriptions.
No visible opening beyond it.
Only darkness.
The central execution grounds.
Heaven had surrounded one prisoner—
With an army.
THOOM.
A Divine transport settled onto a landing platform.
Steam escaped beneath it.
The boarding ramp opened.
And Commander Ravex Dorian stepped out.
He looked around.
Once.
Twice.
Then—
"...Subtle."
A Divine officer passing nearby hesitated.
"Commander?"
Ravex gestured toward the thousands of ships overhead.
"The execution."
The officer looked confused.
"...Yes, sir?"
"I was worried people might miss it."
The officer wisely continued walking.
Ravex sighed.
"Nobody appreciates me."
He stepped off the landing platform.
Unlike most officers within the Deadzone—
Ravex didn't look particularly concerned.
His uniform remained slightly less immaculate than regulations preferred.
One glove was tucked into his belt instead of being worn.
His coat wasn't fully fastened.
And somehow—
Despite walking through what might've been the largest Divine military deployment he'd seen in years—
He looked like he'd arrived late to lunch.
His eyes, however—
Missed nothing.
Barrier placements.
Troop numbers.
Ship formations.
Artillery angles.
Patrol density.
The number of officers pretending they weren't nervous.
The number who clearly were.
And—
There.
Two figures stood near the entrance to the bridge.
Ravex smiled.
"Finally."
High Marshal Tharos Ingrim stood exactly as Ravex remembered him.
Which was unfortunate.
Tall.
Broad.
Armored from neck to boot in dark Divine military plating.
No unnecessary decoration.
No visible weapon, because someone at his rank rarely needed to carry one openly.
His face remained permanently trapped somewhere between disapproval and preparing to sentence a city.
Beside him—
Commander Aster Veyn studied a floating tactical projection.
Her uniform carried the insignia of aerial command.
Several glowing formations rotated above her hand.
Interceptor wings.
Carrier groups.
Patrol corridors.
Unlike Tharos—
Aster looked perfectly capable of smiling.
She simply wasn't.
Especially once she noticed Ravex approaching.
Ravex lifted one hand.
"My favorite people."
Aster looked toward Tharos.
"Can we have him reassigned?"
Tharos didn't turn.
"No."
"You answered too quickly."
"I've already asked."
Ravex placed one hand against his chest.
"...I'm touched."
Aster sighed.
"You're late."
"I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be."
"You were ordered here thirty-eight measures ago."
"Which means I've been exactly where I was supposed to be for approximately..."
Ravex thought.
"...one measure."
Tharos started walking.
"Keep moving."
Ravex fell into step beside him.
Aster followed.
There it was.
Normalcy.
Or—
Whatever passed for normal among them.
Ravex had served with countless Divine officers.
Commanders.
Marshals.
Execution overseers.
Generals.
Most eventually became names attached to operations.
Tharos and Aster were different.
Compatriots.
He'd never tell them that.
They'd become unbearable.
Well—
Aster would.
Tharos might simply stare.
The three stepped onto the bridge.
Far beneath—
The canyon fracture disappeared into darkness.
Ravex looked over the edge.
"...Cheerful."
Aster continued reviewing aerial formations.
"Northwest airspace is sealed."
"Outer patrol groups are rotating every quarter-pulse."
"Interceptor wings are holding above the first barrier."
Tharos responded immediately.
"Ground divisions are established through all twelve primary approaches."
"Reserve battalions remain beneath the western ridge."
"Barrier teams?"
"Fully staffed."
"Artillery?"
"Prepared."
Ravex listened for several seconds.
Then looked toward the enormous gateway ahead.
"So."
Neither responded.
Ravex continued.
"Why this field?"
Aster closed her eyes.
Tharos kept walking.
"What?"
"This execution field."
Ravex pointed ahead.
"We have dozens."
"Hundreds, depending upon what Heaven currently counts as an execution field."
"And yet Voidwrath gets..."
He gestured broadly.
"...that."
Tharos glanced toward the gateway.
"It's newer."
"That explains absolutely nothing."
"It's a pocket field."
Ravex's expression changed.
"...Ah."
That—
Actually interested him.
Aster dismissed her projection.
"The external structure is only an anchor."
Ravex looked toward her.
"The grounds themselves exist separately?"
"Partially."
Tharos answered.
"Contained spatial environment."
"The gateway anchors it to the Riven."
"Internal dimensions are adjustable."
"Containment levels can be altered without affecting the Deadzone."
Ravex nodded slowly.
"So if something goes catastrophically wrong..."
"It remains isolated."
"In theory."
Ravex looked at him.
"In theory?"
Tharos didn't answer.
"...Excellent."
They continued.
Ravex looked behind them.
Thousands of troops.
Dozens of camps.
Ships filling the sky.
Then ahead.
A pocket dimension designed to contain whatever happened within it.
His eyes narrowed.
"Still seems excessive."
Aster groaned.
"Not again."
"Yes again."
"Ravex."
"One prisoner."
Tharos continued walking.
"One Executioner."
"Former Executioner."
"Currently."
Ravex pointed toward him.
"See?"
"Even the terminology is suspicious."
Aster rubbed her forehead.
"You have been questioning this operation since we received the deployment order."
"Because the deployment order makes no sense."
"It doesn't need to make sense to you."
"That's an awful philosophy for military command."
"It's Divine command."
"That's somehow worse."
Tharos finally looked toward him.
Ravex smiled.
"...Respectfully."
Tharos looked forward again.
Aster sighed.
"Would it satisfy you if we entertained the question again?"
"Enormously."
"It won't."
"Still."
Aster glanced toward the execution grounds.
"There are rumors."
Ravex's expression brightened.
"Wonderful."
"I love rumors."
"You love anything you're not authorized to know."
"That's what makes it exciting."
Aster ignored him.
"Vael Turog."
Ravex's humor faded slightly.
"The Second Fall."
"Yes."
Tharos spoke next.
"Voidwrath encountered the Fire Sovereign during the retreat."
Ravex looked toward him.
"Ignovar."
Tharos nodded.
"According to surviving reports."
"Combat?"
"Apparently."
"Outcome?"
Aster answered.
"Voidwrath lost."
Ravex's eyebrows rose.
That part wasn't surprising.
Ignovar was a Sovereign.
Voidwrath had been terrifying—
But Sovereigns operated on different scales.
Then Ravex realized the important part.
"...Wait."
Aster already knew.
"Yes."
Ravex looked between them.
"Ignovar beat Voidwrath."
"Apparently."
"And didn't kill him."
"No."
"Why?"
Silence.
Ravex stopped walking.
Tharos and Aster took another two steps before realizing.
He stared at them.
"Seriously?"
Aster turned.
"Nobody knows."
"That's not a small detail!"
"We're aware."
"Fire Sovereign."
Ravex pointed toward the canyon behind them as though Ignovar might somehow be standing there.
"Adventure-loving."
"Frequently violent."
"Historically impatient."
"Famously comfortable solving problems with fire."
Aster raised an eyebrow.
"Your point?"
"He had one of Heaven's most dangerous Executioners beaten..."
"...and walked away?"
Tharos looked toward him.
"That is the report."
Ravex's eyes narrowed.
"Was Voidwrath ordered to disengage?"
"No."
"Did Ignovar have another objective?"
"Unknown."
"Was there an agreement?"
"Unknown."
"Did Voidwrath surrender?"
Aster stared.
"Do you genuinely expect me to know that?"
"I was hopeful."
"You should stop."
Ravex resumed walking.
"Never."
Aster exchanged a glance with Tharos.
Then continued.
"One theory is that the incident began the treason."
Ravex turned slightly.
"How?"
"If Voidwrath disobeyed an order during the engagement."
"Or failed intentionally."
Tharos added,
"Or if Ignovar recognized some defect in his conditioning that Divine command had not."
Ravex went quiet.
That one stayed with him.
Aster continued.
"We don't know."
"There are no complete combat records."
"Much of Vael Turog's archive was destroyed during reclamation."
"And the Sovereign certainly didn't file a report."
Ravex almost smiled.
"Rude."
Nobody laughed.
He looked ahead.
The circular gateway grew larger with every step.
Golden Divine inscriptions rotated along its surface.
Soldiers stationed nearby stood in rigid ceremonial formations.
Ceremonial.
That word brought something else back.
Ravex glanced toward Tharos.
"You saw the procession?"
Tharos's jaw tightened slightly.
"Yes."
Aster nodded.
"From the air."
Ravex hadn't.
His ship had arrived too late.
"How was it?"
Neither answered immediately.
Ravex looked between them.
"That good?"
Tharos finally spoke.
"Unnecessary."
That was significant coming from him.
Ravex waited.
"The prisoner was transferred from containment at the eastern hold."
"Six Executioners escorted him."
Ravex's eyes narrowed.
"Six?"
"Yes."
"Alongside ceremonial guard."
"Why ceremonial?"
"No explanation."
Aster added,
"Every major ship halted movement while the procession crossed."
"The outer camps were ordered into formation."
"No unauthorized communication."
"No aerial transit above the prisoner."
Ravex stared ahead.
"...For a condemned traitor."
"Yes."
Tharos's voice lowered.
"And they brought the weapon."
Ravex stopped again.
"Varkal'Zir."
"Yes."
That bothered him more than almost anything.
Aster folded her arms.
"I knew you'd react to that."
"Because it's insane."
"The prisoner is restrained."
"Apparently stripped of combat authorization."
"Being executed in five pulses."
Ravex looked toward the enormous gateway.
"And Heaven transports the weapon nobody else can properly wield into the same pocket dimension?"
Tharos said nothing.
Ravex continued.
"Why?"
"No answer."
"Wonderful."
He resumed walking.
One prisoner.
Thousands of soldiers.
Massive fleet deployment.
Pocket execution dimension.
Ceremonial procession.
His weapon brought with him.
Possibly spared by Ignovar.
Public execution after nearly a decade of service.
And somewhere—
Two hidden variables.
Ravex's expression became distant.
Aster was speaking again.
"Air command will maintain three containment layers."
"Any unauthorized entry from above receives one warning."
Ravex barely heard her.
Tharos responded.
"No warnings from ground approach."
"Immediate engagement."
"Understood."
Ravex looked out over the Deadzone.
Ships.
Soldiers.
Barriers.
Cannons.
Everything positioned outward.
Not inward.
Waiting for something.
Someone.
His thoughts returned to the old commander aboard the flagship.
The hatred.
The empty boy.
The weapon no one else could lift.
Once the order complete, the hatred vanished instantly.
Then Ignovar.
Why spare him?
Then the procession.
Why honor him?
Then Varkal'Zir.
Why bring it?
Then the execution.
Why announce it?
Ravex's eyes slowly narrowed.
"...We're not guarding an execution."
Aster stopped.
Tharos turned.
"What?"
Ravex blinked.
He hadn't meant to say it aloud.
He looked between them.
Then smiled faintly.
"Nothing."
Aster stared.
"That wasn't nothing."
"Temporary thought."
"Those are usually your most dangerous kind."
Ravex looked toward the execution gateway.
The darkness beyond it seemed almost alive.
"No."
He said quietly.
"This one might actually be useful."
Tharos's expression hardened.
"Commander."
Ravex waved him off.
"I know."
"Orders."
"Positions."
"Don't question the wisdom of people above my clearance."
"Try not to accidentally start theological problems."
Aster stared at him.
"Nobody said the last one."
"They've implied it."
Tharos started walking again.
"We have five pulses."
That silenced all three.
Five.
Aster reopened her tactical projection.
Tharos began issuing ground adjustments.
And Ravex—
For once—
Stopped talking.
He looked toward the execution grounds.
Something waited behind that gate.
Not merely Voidwrath.
He was becoming increasingly certain of that.
The problem—
Was that he had absolutely no idea what.
Far beyond the bridge—
Beyond the gateway.
Beyond the Divine Guard.
Beyond the thousands of soldiers forbidden from entering—
Water fell.
Drip.
Silence.
Drip.
Drip.
A dark room.
No visible walls.
No clear ceiling.
Only black stone disappearing into shadow.
Water gathered somewhere overhead.
Fell unevenly.
Collected in shallow pools across the floor.
Drip.
In the center of the darkness—
Someone sat.
Motionless.
His wrists were bound.
So were his ankles.
Chains extended from them into the floor.
But these weren't ordinary restraints.
Golden claws had been driven into the stone around him.
Each connected through thin bands of Divine energy.
Those bands entered his body.
Not piercing flesh.
Piercing something deeper.
His cosmic pathways.
Every pulse of void energy that attempted to gather—
Was caught.
Pulled away.
Disassembled.
Fed into the restraints.
Again.
Again.
Again.
His head remained lowered.
Dark hair concealed much of his face.
His body looked older than the child two brothers had spent ten years remembering.
Larger.
Scarred.
Armored only in fragments of black execution clothing left beneath the restraints.
Nothing moved.
Not his shoulders.
Not his hands.
Not his breathing.
Almost—
Like there was nobody there.
Drip.
Drip.
Far across the chamber—
Thin vertical openings broke the darkness.
Bars.
Or something resembling them.
Beyond those openings—
The Riven sky moved.
Turbulent.
Colors folding across one another.
Distant lightning flashed without sound.
The prisoner did not look.
His head remained lowered.
Then—
Two lights appeared.
Far beyond the bars.
Tiny.
Almost impossible to see.
They streaked across the turbulent Riven sky.
Fast enough that neither remained visible for more than an instant.
The prisoner's head did not rise.
His eyes remained hidden.
He never saw them.
But—
One finger moved.
Barely.
A twitch.
Then—
Stillness.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Five pulses remained.