The corridor reverberated with the resounding echoes of my footsteps, weaving an ethereal symphony as I trod along its path. The floor, seemingly crafted from enchanted marble, exuded an illusory allure with its deep, pitch-black hue. Enigmatic spirals of light purple danced upon its surface, reminiscent of a vividly alive galaxy.

The corridor’s walls curled gracefully and held a translucent quality that emitted an aura from beyond reality. Illuminated by glass torches, their blue flames cast an unwavering brilliance, infusing the surroundings with an almost surreal radiance. The scene itself appeared to belong to a plane beyond mortal understanding.

In a composed voice, I remarked, "We shall reach the observatory shortly."

Accompanying me were Keiichi, Eugene, and Kabir. Following their battles, they took a brief respite, well aware that the pivotal confrontation lay ahead. The looming clash would involve none other than corrupted Mirrikh,the enigmatic puppeteer behind the Void Order.

With the void creatures left to the remaining forces, comprised of the remaining twenty squads and the united armies of the Dwellers, their impending eradication within hours was inevitable. Our focus had shifted to more pressing matters, primarily the eradication of Mirrikh. A lingering question puzzled us: why did he persist in remaining concealed within the heart of the Void Order’s stronghold? His mere presence on the front lines would undoubtedly shift the battle’s outcome drastically.

During our journey, Kei shared his revelation, detailing his attainment of the final phase of lune-weaving. I absorbed his account, listening keenly as he elaborated on the concept of the soul, an eternal essence impervious to destruction.

As he spoke, a connection dawned upon me, linking his explanation with the last words Mrizem had left me. It became apparent that Mirrikh’s relentless return could be traced back to his insatiable greed for the fragments. A theory emerged, suggesting that the tenacity of his "soul" had fueled his resurrection.

"We’re getting close," I interjected into my own thoughts, urging my companions to tread cautiously. Their steady pace matched their cautious demeanour.

Kabir, seizing upon my momentary distraction, halted his steps to turn his gaze towards me. "Have you managed to uncover any insights?" he inquired, curiosity evident in his voice.

Gathering the threads of my contemplation, I found the answer within my grasp.

"There’s a notable probability that, even in the event of our victory, he could be resurrected. The fuel for his relentless return lies in his emotions. To counter this, we must eliminate the source of his desire to come back." My explanation was left hanging, but Eugene intervened.

"To dispose of the fragments—his wellspring of greed," Eugene concluded, seamlessly picking up where I had left off.

Kabir, ever the voice of pragmatic caution, interjected with a counterpoint. "However, the Overseers would have certainly pursued such a solution if it were feasible. The prospect of destroying the fragments is daunting; each holds within it the energy of a galaxy’s worth of sol. The aftermath of even a single fragment’s destruction would surpass nuclear explosions, dooming us in the process."

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His argument was sound, and I acknowledged it. "The Overseers’ knowledge has led them to a dead end. We must seek an alternative solution, one they might not have foreseen."

As I delved deeper into contemplation, a realisation struck me like lightning, swiftly piecing together a vast puzzle. In that moment, the disjointed thoughts converged into clarity, forming a coherent plan.

The expressions that met my gaze mirrored my own epiphany. Each face bore the same spark of realisation, as if we were all attuned to a singular train of thought.

"There’s no need to speak it aloud; I can see the realisation dawning upon each of you," I stated, a knowing smile curving my lips.

***

Nine columns, almost ephemeral in their composition, formed an arc around us. These structures were crafted from the most sturdy translucent glass, their ethereal nature making them appear almost insubstantial. Of these, six held aloft floating fragments, each suffused with an alluring, amethyst-hued luminescence.

This radiant energy transformed the translucent glass into something entirely from another realm, casting an otherworldly glow upon the surroundings. These fragments, embodying the assimilation of six distinct compounds, each containing a galaxy of sol within, seemed almost like relics of cosmic power. Yet, three of these pillars stood empty, their potential yet to be realised.

Our arrival had brought us to the heart of what was dubbed the "observatory." Guided by our collective realisation, we embarked on this path with a shared plan in mind. A plan that had once seemed insurmountable now lay before us, gradually materialising into feasibility.

Before us stood a figure with four eyes—two conventional orbs supplemented by an additional pair set upon his cheeks. These latter eyes, their colours inverted, regarded me with a profound and grave intensity. This figure was none other than Mirrikh the Unlighted himself.

"What a tragedy it is to witness the decimation of my principal forces," he sighed, his voice carrying the weight of ages.

As I began to respond, he preempted me, his voice resuming its own thread. "Nonetheless, the loss of mere Voidkeepers and Voidshades pales in significance when compared to the precious shards I have secured. Guarded with utmost dedication, these fragments remain untouched by any interloper’s hand." His laughter, tinged with a sense of self-satisfaction, implied that the demise of his forces held no bearing on him.

In that instance, it became clear that his form had been consumed by corruption and madness. His sole purpose was safeguarding the fragments. He remained here, convinced that someone would attempt to seize them, underestimating the value of his subordinates’ lives. To him, only the shimmering shards mattered; everything else was expendable.

With a deliberate motion, he rose from his seated position and began to advance towards us.

"What if we reconstitute this organization?" The four of you could assume the mantle of voidkeepers. I am prepared to grant you unimaginable power. Together, we shall forge the ‘New Void Order’ and bring entire universes under our dominion. Our strength will be unparalleled and insurmountable." His voice held a note of mania.

"Of course, if you hand over those fragments to us," I quipped.

The mere suggestion of parting with the fragments unleashed an aura from Mirrikh, an aura far more fearsome and malevolent than that of the Voidkeepers. The pressure it exuded was enough to render most Paladins unconscious; only those of Herald rank or higher could endure its malicious, greed-driven intensity.

The phase of negotiation, it seemed, had long since passed. Mirrikh’s four eyes bore into each of us with a predatory intent, as though they sought to rend our very souls asunder. The gaze felt as if it were probing the depths of our psyche.

"It appears your desire is for annihilation," Mirrikh uttered, a chilling prelude to the confrontation that lay ahead.