The ancient ruins stretched before Ravager, half-buried in a silent wasteland under the abyss. Her eyes narrowed as she approached the entrance, her steps echoing in the hollow silence. She had heard whispers of this place from old records—an abandoned archive from a long-forgotten civilization, rumored to hold knowledge that could rival even the Archivist’s own.
Behind her, Knight moved cautiously, her gaze wary as she took in the strange inscriptions carved into the stone. “Are you sure about this?” Knight’s voice was steady, but Ravager could sense the unease beneath. “This place was condemned for a reason. Whatever knowledge was buried here, it was never meant to be found.”
Ravager didn’t answer immediately, her focus on the darkened hall stretching before them. In the back of her mind, her father’s words haunted her: Raw power without guidance?
That was what she needed to change.
“This is the only way,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “If I’m going to stop him, I need to know what he knows—or more.”
The air was thick and stifling as they descended deeper into the ruin, the weight of centuries pressing down around them. Strange symbols flickered across the walls, dim and eerie, like dying embers of an ancient flame. Ravager paused at an inscription carved in a language she didn’t understand, but its meaning felt familiar, an echo of words she had once heard in her father’s studies: "My sources told me that he came here and gained something.... But what did he gain?"
Knight’s voice broke her thought. “These markings… they’re warnings. This place doesn’t hold knowledge—it holds curses.” She looked at Ravager, a faint plea in her gaze. “Are you willing to risk it all, just for a chance at power?”
Ravager’s gaze hardened, the memories of her father’s atrocities, the lives he’d taken, the worlds he’d shattered, fueling her resolve. “If I don’t, who will stop him?”
They pressed on until they reached a chamber at the heart of the ruins, where the air grew colder, almost oppressive. In the center of the room stood an altar, covered in dust and cobwebs, yet pulsing faintly with a dark, ancient energy. On the altar lay a tome, bound in strange, dark metal that seemed to shift under her gaze, like a void made tangible. Ravager approached slowly, feeling its pull—the lure of forbidden knowledge calling her, offering power in exchange for something she had already sacrificed long ago—her innocence.
She reached for the tome, feeling its icy coldness seeping into her fingertips. The cover opened with a sound like a distant scream, revealing pages written in a script so arcane it hurt to look at. Each word felt like a dagger in her mind, sharp and unforgiving.
Knight grabbed her arm, pulling her away. “This is madness. Whatever is in that tome—it’s not worth losing yourself to it.”
Ravager hesitated, staring into the depths of the tome. Could she really afford to walk away now? To let her father’s actions go unpunished, to live knowing she hadn’t done everything in her power to stop him?
“No,” she whispered, determination burning in her eyes. “It’s not just about me. It’s about everyone he’s hurt, everyone he’ll continue to hurt. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to end his reign of terror.”
With a swift motion, she tore free from Knight’s grasp, returning to the tome and placing both hands on its surface. The book shimmered, its pages shifting and warping under her touch. She felt its energy surge into her, flooding her mind with visions and voices that were not her own, memories of ages long past, knowledge that had been lost to the annals of history. The pain was unbearable, tearing at the very essence of her being, but she held fast, letting the ancient wisdom wash over her, suffuse her until it became a part of her.
Knight gulps while watching this scene, it was her idea that led Ravager to this place, she is worried about her wellbeing...but she knows what her purpose is. Right now Ravager is risking everything to make sure that they can get rid of the man who made her life miserable...but at what cost?
The ruins quaked around them as Ravager absorbed the forbidden knowledge, the walls themselves seeming to breathe in rhythm with her. With one final burst of light, it ended, and she slumped to her knees, panting heavily. The tome clattered to the floor beside her, its dark cover now scorched and inert. Ravager uses her hands to write something in the air as the writings formed a sphere of protective field around her... and instantly it started cracking...then finally breaking...then shattering completely to pieces: "So this is how he did it... he used arcane to break the limiter of a physical body." Ravager said and she started writing more runes in the air and soon after it created a new type of barrier field but this time it managed to withstand the pressure exerted by Ravager's new powers.
"Is it working?" Knight asks, worry fills her entire body.
"I think it worked." Ravager said then she stood up: "Let's head out of here..." Ravager walks out first then followed by Knight who gave one last glance at the Tome that laid on the ground then she walked off, not wanting to waste anymore time. On their way back, Ravager looks at her hand as if there's something on it that's bothering her: "What's wrong?" Knight asked.
"I can see the energy flow in my body, and it seems my new power isn't limited by physical contact." Ravager explained while looking at her arm, she raises her right hand forward: "Now you're going to see what true magic is."
Knight raised her eyebrow as she wonders what her friend means by that, suddenly Ravager releases her power which made the tree around her be flattened as though a truck rammed it into million times. She couldn't believe it. Magic doesn't work in this world but somehow, Ravager is making it work, how did she do that?
"Where did you get your sources?" Knight asks, unable to hide the curiosity inside her heart, how did Ravager gain the knowledge of that place?
"They told me." Ravager answered without giving much detail.
"You have to stop meeting people who knows a lot of shit about stuff and places they're not supposed to know." Knight said and it's obvious that she is worried for Ravager's safety: "I know you are powerful... but remember you died once already. You got another shot because of weird circumstance. Don't make this hard on yourself."
Ravager smiles but didn't say anything. When Knight saw that, she was able to realize that it would be pointless trying to persuade Ravager not to take action against the archivist. So instead, Knight tries to give emotional support.
Meanwhile
The lights flickered in Sannet’s quiet chamber as the code pulsed across her comm device. A signal only she would recognize—a call from the past, a summons from Trazyn. She had spent years running from anything connected to that name, and now he dared to reach out again, asking for her expertise as if she had never left. She sighed, closing her eyes as if bracing herself for a pain that never quite faded.
The message itself was cryptic yet unmistakable: Trazyn needed her help with a repair, something only she could handle. Her instincts screamed at her to ignore it, but a stubborn curiosity gnawed at her—what could possibly make him need her again? And why would he lower himself to ask?
Reluctantly, she decoded the coordinates and made her way to his infamous gallery.
When she arrived, Trazyn greeted her in the opulent main hall, surrounded by artifacts gleaming from distant eras. The moment he saw her, he wore the same thin smile she remembered all too well even when he's not in his necron form—a smile that managed to be both welcoming and condescending.
“Ah, Sannet,” he said, spreading his arms. “It’s been far too long.”
She crossed her arms, keeping her distance. “You said you needed a repair done. I didn’t come here for pleasantries.”
He merely chuckled, unfazed by her bluntness. “Yes, of course. It’s the Chronotheric Stabilizer. You’ll find it a delicate operation, but I assume you’re still up to the task?”
The stabilizer, she knew, was a critical component in his galleries, maintaining the temporal balance around his collections. Without it, artifacts would be lost, slipping out of time. She eyed him skeptically, her stomach twisting. “You haven’t found anyone else to fix it? Strange for someone with as many resources as you.”
“I require skill,” he replied, his tone faintly amused. “Not just obedience. But mainly trust.”
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
The veiled compliment caught her off guard, and she quickly turned away, feigning indifference. “Just show me the stabilizer,” she said.
In the dim light of the chamber that housed the stabilizer, Sannet studied the ancient machine. Its towering structure emitted an ominous hum, and glyphs flickered erratically across its surface. She ran a hand over one of the control panels, feeling the broken machinery pulse with barely-contained energy.
“This stabilizer isn’t just broken, Trazyn,” she said, not looking up. “You’ve modified it.”
“Optimized it,” he corrected, as though it were a trivial distinction.
Her head snapped up, her eyes blazing. “Your ‘optimizations’ are why this is a disaster waiting to happen. One wrong move, and the entire device could implode. Did you even consider the risks before tampering with it?”
He raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Risks? Why, I have full faith in your abilities, Sannet. You’ll be careful.”
She clenched her fists, holding back the surge of frustration that rose within her. “You always push everyone else into danger. It’s never you who has to bear the cost, is it?”
Trazyn’s smile faded, replaced by an expression colder and sharper. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten what it means to serve something greater than yourself.”
She laughed, bitterly. “Serve? That’s how you justify it. All the sacrifices, all the people you’ve hurt—‘preserving history’ just makes it sound noble.” If he's really into things that serves greater purpose than yourself, why did he leave? Why taking part of a role in human society? She thought to her self.
A tense silence fell between them, filled only by the faint hum of the broken stabilizer.
Despite her anger, Sannet set to work on the repairs, deftly adjusting the stabilizer’s circuitry and muttering under her breath at the absurdity of it all. Trazyn’s modifications had twisted the stabilizer into something unstable, chaotic. She needed to undo the damage, recalibrating each piece as carefully as if she were defusing a bomb.
As she worked, she broke the silence. “Why me, Trazyn? Why not find someone else to do this?”
“Because you’re the best,” he replied simply, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. His tone softened slightly. “You always were.”
She paused, taken aback, but quickly brushed it off. “I thought I was just another tool to you,” she muttered.
He sighed, a hint of something close to regret in his voice. “Tools can’t fix what you’ve just fixed, Sannet. Not every creation is replaceable.”
The words held a rare note of vulnerability, and she felt a pang of something she had long buried. But she quickly forced it down, steeling herself. She couldn’t let herself believe there was anything genuine behind his compliments.
Hours passed, and the stabilizer was nearly repaired, but she encountered one last problem—the core would need to be reset from within. It would require her to enter the machine, a risky maneuver that could leave her trapped if anything went wrong.
“Listen, Trazyn, I’ll need to enter the core to finish this,” she said, turning to him. “If I’m in there and something malfunctions…”
He interrupted, unfazed. “Surely a technician of your caliber can manage.”
Her temper flared. “Of course you’d send me in without a second thought. You’ve never cared who you put in danger, as long as you get what you want.”
She took a step back, folding her arms defiantly. “I’ll go in there—but on one condition. If I succeed, you’ll give me any data or artifacts related to my past. I want to know everything you kept from me.”
He hesitated, the slightest flicker of something like guilt crossing his face, but then he inclined his head. “Very well, Sannet. You have my word.”
With a grim nod, she climbed into the machine.
Inside, the core was a labyrinth of shifting energy fields and unstable power circuits. She could feel the pressure bearing down on her, the weight of the task she had agreed to. She closed her eyes, steadying herself, and got to work, methodically recalibrating the core’s connections.
As she reconnected the final conduit, a surge of power rushed through the stabilizer, shaking the core violently. For a moment, she thought it might implode, trapping her within the device forever. But with a last burst of focus, she stabilized the core, watching the energy settle into a steady hum.
Breathless and exhausted, she climbed out, meeting Trazyn’s gaze with a mixture of relief and anger. “It’s done,” she said, her voice trembling from the strain.
True to his word, Trazyn handed her a small data cube, containing the long-hidden information she had sought. She grasped it tightly, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders. Finally, she would have answers—answers he had withheld for so long.
As she turned to leave, Trazyn spoke, his voice softer than she’d ever heard. “Thank you, Sannet.”
She looked back, seeing a glimmer of something in his eyes that might have once been pride—or perhaps regret. But she didn’t respond, didn’t give him the satisfaction of a reply. She walked away, feeling a strange mix of triumph and sorrow.
Walking off to her private room, Sannet sat on her bed and pressed the cube to her temple, watching as the data poured into her mind.
Memories flashed before her eyes, moments of her past life playing like a disjointed film reel. There she was, growing up on her homeworld. There, she saw herself studying tirelessly, mastering technology and quantum mechanics alongside the other Necrontyrs. There were scenes of happiness and hardship, achievement and loss—and throughout it all, she saw Trazyn, always present, always guiding, always manipulating.
She putted it away, Trazyn has been in her life from the very start, she thought. This thought for some reason made her heart beat fast, she doesn't understand why her heart is beating so fast, is she scared? Is she nervous? No, that's not it. It's... it's because she's starting to feel something for him...: "Him? That piece of..." She stops. She can't even insult him even if she wanted to, she knows why... because she is in love with him... and it's painful... because she knows it's unrequited. She sighs: "I should stop worrying and just get this over with." She said and started reading the memory cube once more. She watched her younger self make discoveries that would shape her entire race, and she saw the moment she’d first met Trazyn, then she saw that it was him who dragged her into the furnace of biotransference, she was not willing to do such act. All those death in war in heaven, the pain, the suffering, the agony of the bio-transference... she was not willing to do all of it and it was Trazyn who made her suffer all that... she didn't want to continue reading and decided to stop.
Sannet emerged from her private chamber, her movements brisk and purposeful, though her mind churned with conflict. The revelations from the memory cube had shaken her deeply, dredging up emotions she had long buried—fear, anger, and, much to her dismay, a maddening affection she couldn’t reconcile.
The corridor outside was quiet, its dim lighting casting elongated shadows on the metallic walls. As Sannet walked, lost in her thoughts, she nearly collided with Monika, who was leaning casually against the wall with her arms crossed. Monika’s emerald green eyes sparkled with their usual warmth, but there was a hint of curiosity as she tilted her head, studying Sannet.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Monika remarked, her voice light, though concern tinged her tone. “What’s going on?”
Sannet hesitated, her usually composed demeanor faltering. She shifted her weight uncomfortably, avoiding Monika’s gaze. “It’s nothing,” she said curtly, though the tightness in her voice betrayed her.
Monika raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Come on, Sannet. I’ve known you long enough to tell when something’s bothering you.” She stepped closer, her tone softening. “Talk to me.”
Sannet clenched her fists, her mind a storm of emotions she didn’t know how to express. How could she explain what she’d just learned? That the man she had spent years resenting had not only orchestrated her greatest pain but had somehow found a place in her heart that she couldn’t erase?
“It’s Trazyn,” Sannet finally admitted, her voice low, almost trembling.
Monika’s expression shifted, her playful demeanor replaced by seriousness. “What about him?” she asked, her tone careful, as though stepping onto fragile ground.
Sannet let out a sharp breath, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “He’s a manipulative, self-serving collector who ruins everything he touches,” she said, her voice rising slightly. “And yet…” Her words faltered, and she looked away, ashamed of what she was about to admit.
Monika’s eyes softened with understanding. “And yet, you care about him,” she finished for her.
Sannet’s head snapped up, her expression a mixture of shock and defensiveness. “I don’t—he doesn’t—” she stammered, but Monika simply gave her a knowing look.
“It’s okay, you know,” Monika said gently. “Feelings are messy, especially when it comes to someone like Trazyn. He’s… complicated. But that's what i love about him.”
“That’s an understatement,” Sannet muttered, crossing her arms tightly. She shook her head, her frustration mounting. “How can I feel anything but hatred for him after everything he’s done? He dragged me into biotransference against my will, made me suffer through the War in Heaven, and now he has the audacity to call me back like nothing happened!”
“And yet, you’re here,” Monika pointed out, her tone kind but firm. “You could have ignored his call, but you didn’t. Why?”
Sannet’s shoulders slumped, and she leaned back against the wall, her gaze distant. “Because… I thought I could confront him. That maybe I could finally get answers, maybe even closure.” She let out a bitter laugh. “But instead, I’m more confused than ever.”
Monika stepped closer, placing a reassuring hand on Sannet’s shoulder. “You don’t have to figure it all out right now,” she said. “But maybe this is your chance to take control of your story. Trazyn may have shaped your past, but he doesn’t have to define your future.”
Sannet met Monika’s gaze, her eyes shimmering with a mix of gratitude and uncertainty. For the first time in a long while, she felt the faintest flicker of hope—hope that she could untangle the threads of her past and forge a path of her own, free from Trazyn’s shadow.
“You’re right,” Sannet said, her voice steadier now. “I can’t let him control me anymore. Not my actions, not my feelings.”
Monika smiled warmly. “That’s the spirit. And hey, if you ever need someone to vent to—or to punch something with—I’m here.”
A small, rare smile tugged at the corners of Sannet’s lips. “Thank you, Monika.”
As they walked together down the corridor, Sannet couldn’t help but feel a small weight lifting from her shoulders. The road ahead was uncertain, but for the first time, she felt like she had the strength to face it on her own terms.