Date: February 12, 542 years since the Fall of Zanra the Dishonored.
The air in the Pyramid of Entropy had become so thick with the grey suspension it seemed tangible. Grak the Axe walked ahead, and each of his steps was accompanied by a low, barely audible hum—his inner power was so dense that small obsidian fragments on the floor began to vibrate in the rhythm of his pulse.
The Commander felt a burning in the channels of his Vessel. Maintaining the protective dome against the aggressive timelessness demanded constant concentration, even for a Herald. Grak involuntarily remembered the smell of burnt flesh and old blood after the battle for "Snow Limit" ten years ago—the air had been just as heavy then. But there, the enemy was comprehensible, whereas here, space itself tried to erase them from reality.
Shoulder to shoulder with him moved Baron Kaelen. One of the Rakesh knights, a young Warrior named Lucius, looked at Grak with undisguised contempt. "Northern barbarian..." Lucius thought, adjusting his pauldron. "He holds that huge axe like an ordinary club. There's no elegance of our masters in him. Only that dull, crushing power. How can the Baron even agree to walk beside this bear?"
However, Baron Kaelen did not share his subordinate's arrogance. He saw how steadily Grak maintained his share of the "cocoon" of safety. Kaelen's golden "Aegis" and Grak's white haze merged in perfect parity, but Kaelen felt that Grak was not just a shield. His Spirit—the Spirit of the Cleaving Strike—passively pulsed in the axe's blade, ready to cut the very fabric of time if necessary.
"Halt," Grak suddenly boomed.
They emerged into a huge, cavernous hall. The grey fog here had cleared slightly, revealing something colossal in the center. It was a Giant, its body half-hidden under rubble from the ceiling.
The creature was enormous—the size of a fortress tower. Its form resembled a cross between a lion and a dragon, but the creature's skin was not living flesh, but living obsidian shot through with glowing veins. Broken bone ridges ran along its spine, and its powerful paws were deeply embedded in the stone floor.
"That... that creature is at the Adept level," Kaelen whispered, and for the first time in a long while, his voice betrayed agitation. "It got stuck here in Zantra's era. Apparently, the pyramid couldn't destroy it immediately, but it's been draining its power for centuries."
The knights of both detachments froze. Even in such a pitiful state—with a withered body and shreds of frozen muscles on its bones—the creature radiated an aura that made the Vessels of Warriors ache with fear. A true Adept, caught in the trap of entropy and turned into a living monument to its own decline.
"The place has drained it," Grak remarked, gripping his axe handle tighter. "Look at its veins—they're barely glowing. If it were in its prime, its presence would have crushed us at the entrance to the hall. But even now..."
Grak didn't finish. In the depths of the monster's empty eye sockets, which seemed like bottomless wells of darkness, a dim, ominous amber light suddenly flared.
A dry, heavy sound, like the scraping of colliding glaciers, was heard. The Giant stirred. The multi-ton rubble that had lain on its back for centuries crashed down, turning to dust upon contact with the floor. The creature slowly, with difficulty, straightened its petrified joints. Each movement generated a wave of such powerful pressure that the protective spheres of Grak and Kaelen bent inward.
The monster opened its maw, in which instead of teeth were razor-sharp rocks. The sound of its breathing resembled the roar of an approaching avalanche. The Adept, awakened from its age-long slumber by the presence of living energy, began to rise, slowly turning its head towards the warriors, tiny in its eyes.
"It's awake," Kaelen stated laconically, drawing his sword. His golden dome flared, ready to meet the first blow.
Grak the Axe planted his foot forward, bracing himself against the floor. His energy roared, filling his muscles and weapon. The Guardian of the Pyramid, emaciated and furious, straightened fully, blocking the passage. Its amber gaze focused on the detachments.
The battle, in which the knights were to face a weakened but still transcendentally powerful Adept of the past, was about to begin.