The library's air grew heavier with each passing second, a silent weight pressing on Aethren’s chest. The words from the Ebon Path scroll seared into his mind: “The Abyss demands a sacrifice.” The phrase twisted inside him like a dagger. He knew their path forward, but the cost shrouded it in uncertainty.

Elyra tightened her grip on her daggers, her jaw clenched. “We know where the Gate is now. But this… sacrifice. What does it mean?”

Aethren took a deep breath, the ancient dust filling his lungs. “We won’t know until we reach the Gate.”

Her eyes narrowed. “And you think that’s a good idea?”

“No.” He met her gaze, the determination in his eyes a fragile flame. “But we don’t have a choice.”

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The Road to Midnight

The path to the Veil of Midnight was treacherous. According to the scroll, it lay at the heart of the Umbral Wastes, a barren stretch of land where the boundaries between reality and the Abyss thinned dangerously. Few who wandered into the Wastes ever returned.

As they left the broken city behind, a cold wind swept across the plains. The sun, once a comforting presence, hung lower in the sky, shrouded by dark clouds that churned like ink in water.

They moved in silence, their footsteps muffled by the shifting earth beneath them. Shadows clung to the edges of the world, whispering like a chorus of forgotten voices.

Elyra broke the silence. “Aethren, if this Gate really does demand a sacrifice, what if—”

“I know what you’re going to say.” He cut her off, his voice gentle but firm. “We can’t plan for it until we’re there.”

She glared at him, frustration and fear mingling in her eyes. “But what if it’s—”

“Me?” he finished. “It might be.”

She stopped, her hand grabbing his arm. “Don’t say that. We’ve come this far together. You can’t just… give up.”

He turned to face her, his expression softening. “I’m not giving up. But if it comes to that—if sacrificing myself means sealing the Gate forever—I have to consider it.”

Her fingers tightened on his sleeve. “Then we’ll find another way. There’s always another way.”

Aethren wished he could believe her.

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The Umbral Wastes

The air grew colder as they crossed into the Umbral Wastes. The landscape was desolate, the ground cracked and lifeless. Blackened spires of stone jutted up like broken bones, and an unnatural twilight cloaked everything in gray.

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The whispers grew louder here, curling around Aethren’s thoughts like tendrils of smoke.

Join us… The darkness welcomes you…

He clenched his fists, focusing on Elyra’s steady presence beside him. She moved like a shadow herself, her eyes scanning the horizon for threats.

Suddenly, the ground beneath them trembled. A fissure split the earth with a groan, and from the depths of the crack, shadows poured out like liquid night.

“Move!” Elyra shouted, pulling Aethren back as the shadows coalesced into writhing forms.

Figures emerged, their bodies shifting and insubstantial. Faces with hollow eyes turned toward them, mouths opening in silent screams.

Wraiths.

Aethren drew his sword, the blade glowing faintly with residual light. “They’re trying to stop us!”

Elyra’s daggers flashed as she lunged forward, slicing through the nearest wraith. It dissolved into black mist, but another took its place almost instantly.

“They’re endless!” Elyra grunted, dodging a shadowy claw that slashed at her side.

Aethren’s heart pounded. The Voidstone inside him pulsed with heat, responding to the darkness around them. He felt the Abyssal power stir, eager to be unleashed.

Use it, the whispers urged. Let us help you.

“No,” he growled, shaking off the voice. He couldn’t lose himself—not now.

But as the wraiths closed in, a sickening realization sank in his gut: they couldn’t win this fight by ordinary means.

He turned to Elyra, desperation in his eyes. “I need to use it.”

She hesitated, her face pale. “You told me not to let you—”

“I don’t have a choice!”

Her jaw tightened, but she nodded. “I’ll pull you back if it gets bad.”

Aethren closed his eyes and reached inward, touching the burning core of Abyssal power. Darkness surged through him, cold and intoxicating. His vision darkened at the edges, and he felt his body grow lighter, his senses sharpening.

When he opened his eyes, they glowed with the eerie light of the Void.

The wraiths paused, as if recognizing their own.

Aethren lifted his hand, and a wave of shadow burst forth, sweeping through the writhing figures. They screamed soundlessly as the darkness consumed them, tearing their forms apart.

The battlefield cleared, the wraiths reduced to fading wisps.

Aethren swayed, the darkness in his veins gnawing at his mind. Elyra’s hand was suddenly on his arm, her touch warm and grounding.

“Aethren,” she said softly. “Come back to me.”

He took a shuddering breath, the glow fading from his eyes. The cold receded, leaving him drained and hollow.

“I’m here,” he whispered.

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The Gate Appears

They trudged onward, the path leading them to the heart of the Wastes. Finally, they reached a clearing surrounded by jagged stones. In the center, an arch of obsidian loomed, carved with runes that pulsed with dark light.

The Abyss Gate.

It was beautiful in a terrible way, the void within it swirling like a storm.

Elyra shivered. “This is it.”

Aethren stepped forward, the Voidstone beneath his skin burning with recognition. He could feel the Gate calling to him, a resonance he couldn’t ignore.

But the words from the scroll haunted him.

“The Abyss demands a sacrifice.”

“What now?” Elyra asked, her voice barely a whisper.

A low, echoing voice answered from the shadows.

“Now, you choose.”

The Shadow Sovereign’s form emerged beside the Gate, its hollow eyes glinting with dark amusement.

Aethren’s jaw clenched. “I won’t let you win.”

The Shadow Sovereign smiled. “You misunderstand, Vessel. The choice was always yours. Will you give yourself to the darkness to seal it away? Or will you let the world fall?”

The air thickened with dread. Elyra’s hand found his, her grip tight.

“There has to be another way,” she whispered.

Aethren’s heart ached. But deep down, he knew what had to be done.

He took a step toward the Gate.