The sound of the door slamming shut echoed through the chamber, the deafening boom reverberating in the absolute darkness. My breath hitched as the reality of our situation sank in: there was no turning back.

The oppressive void around us was complete, the air cold and heavy, carrying an unsettling silence. Even the sound of my own breathing felt muffled, swallowed by the darkness. I couldn’t see my own hand in front of my face, let alone the others.

“Everyone still here?” I whispered, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to sound calm.

“Unfortunately,” Farron muttered from somewhere to my left.

“I’m here,” Jessa said, her voice sharper than usual, as if she was trying to mask her unease.

“Same,” Orin added tersely.

“Stay close,” Jessa ordered. “We don’t know what we’re dealing with yet.”

“Speak for yourself,” Farron said, his tone laced with nervous humor. “I’m dealing with a strong urge to turn around and bang on that door.”

“We’re not turning back,” Jessa said firmly.

“Wouldn’t matter if we tried,” Orin muttered.

I gripped my dagger tightly, its faint hum of shadow energy the only sign that I was still holding it. The UI flickered to life in my mind’s eye, and I focused on my Shadow Veil ability.

Shadow Veil (Active): Your presence is obscured, and your perception sharpened. The veil bends the light, revealing that which lies hidden.

I activated the ability, and the world shifted slightly. The darkness around us thinned, revealing faint, ghostly outlines of the chamber. Massive, twisting pillars loomed ahead, carved with symbols that pulsed faintly with light. The floor was etched with runes, arranged in concentric circles that seemed to pulse in time with the beating of my heart.

“There’s something up ahead,” I said, my voice hushed.

“What do you see?” Jessa asked, her tone sharp with curiosity and caution.

“Pillars. Symbols. The floor looks... alive,” I said, struggling to describe the strange, pulsating energy I could feel beneath my boots.

“Alive?” Farron echoed. “That’s... comforting.”

We moved cautiously toward the center of the chamber, the faint light from the symbols growing brighter as we approached. The air was thick with tension, every step accompanied by the faint hum of power emanating from the runes.

The pillars formed a rough circle around a raised platform. At its center stood a massive stone pedestal, its surface carved with intricate patterns that seemed to shift and writhe as I looked at them.

“What is this place?” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the hum.

Jessa stepped closer to the pedestal, her dagger at the ready. “A nexus,” she said, her voice tight. “Or a focal point. The resistance has heard of places like this, but... not like this.”

“What’s the difference?” Farron asked, keeping a wary distance.

“This one feels... intact,” Jessa said, her fingers brushing the carvings on the pedestal. “Most of the others are ruins, broken and abandoned. Whatever this place was, it’s still active.”

“That’s not reassuring,” Orin muttered, scanning the chamber with a hand on his knife.

I stepped up to the pedestal, the energy pulsing beneath my feet growing stronger with each step. The symbols carved into its surface seemed to react to my presence, glowing brighter and shifting faster.

“Careful, Ash,” Jessa warned.

“I know,” I said, though I wasn’t sure if I meant it for her or myself.

As I touched the pedestal, the runes on my dagger flared to life, the dark blade humming with power. The symbols on the pedestal responded in kind, their light intensifying until the entire chamber was bathed in a dim, pulsating glow.

The air vibrated with energy, and a deep, resonant voice echoed through the chamber.

“Who dares awaken the Nexus of Shadows?”

I stumbled back, nearly dropping my dagger. The voice was everywhere, surrounding us and pressing into my mind like a physical force.

“Uh, that would be him,” Farron said, pointing at me.

Jessa shot him a glare before stepping forward. “We mean no harm,” she said, her voice steady. “We’re looking for answers.”

The voice rumbled again, low and ancient.

“Answers are the currency of the lost. What price are you willing to pay for what you seek?”

Jessa turned to me, her expression unreadable. “This is on you, Chosen One.”

I swallowed hard, my mouth dry. “We’re trying to stop Ecclesion. To challenge the Light Eternal. What can you tell us about it?”

The silence that followed was suffocating, the air charged with tension.

Finally, the voice spoke again.

“The Light Eternal is not what you believe it to be. It is not divine. It is a construct—a tool wielded by those who crave dominion.”

“A construct?” I repeated, my mind reeling. “You mean Ecclesion made it?”

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“Not Ecclesion,” the voice replied. “The Light Eternal predates them. It was forged in the final days of the old empire, a desperate attempt to seize control over forces they could not comprehend.”

Jessa frowned. “If Ecclesion didn’t create it, how did they come to wield it?”

“When the empire fell, Ecclesion rose from its ashes. They inherited the Light Eternal and twisted its purpose to suit their own ends. What was once a weapon of desperation became a beacon of control.”

Orin’s expression darkened. “A weapon.”

“And now they’re using it to rule the world,” I said, the weight of the revelation settling in my chest.

“The Light Eternal is flawed,” the voice continued. “It is unstable, its power tethered to the Nexus Points scattered across Kaedralis. Sever those ties, and its strength will falter.”

Jessa’s eyes widened. “You’re saying we can weaken it?”

“You can unmake it,” the voice said. “But the path is fraught with peril. Ecclesion will stop at nothing to protect the Nexuses. And the Light Eternal itself will not go quietly.”

The chamber fell silent, the runes dimming slightly as the voice faded. I turned to the others, my mind racing.

“This is it,” I said. “We’ve been running this whole time, but now we know what to do. We have to find these Nexuses and cut Ecclesion off from their power.”

“And get hunted every step of the way,” Farron said. “Sounds like a blast.”

“It’s not going to be easy,” Jessa said, her voice firm. “But it’s a plan.”

“A dangerous plan,” Orin added.

“Dangerous is all we’ve got,” I said, gripping my dagger tightly.

Jessa nodded, her expression resolute. “Then we move forward. Together.”

As we left the chamber, the oppressive darkness gave way to the faint light of the runes once more.

For the first time, I felt like we weren’t just running anymore.

We had a purpose now.

A mission.

And Ecclesion had no idea what was coming for them.

The air felt lighter as we stepped out of the Nexus chamber, but the weight of the revelation clung to us like a second skin. The faint glow of the runes along the walls illuminated our path, casting shifting shadows that seemed to breathe as we walked.

No one spoke at first. What we had learned was too big, too dangerous, to put into words yet.

The Light Eternal wasn’t divine—it was a weapon.

Ecclesion hadn’t created it, but they wielded it like a scepter, a symbol of ultimate control. And now, we had the smallest glimmer of hope: sever the Nexuses, and the Light Eternal could be undone.

If it could be undone, so could Ecclesion.

The narrow path leading out of the temple twisted and turned, the oppressive energy thinning with each step. When we finally emerged into the forest, the sunlight filtering through the trees felt like stepping into another world.

“Alright,” Farron said, breaking the silence. “Can we all agree that was completely insane?”

“Agreed,” Jessa muttered, though her usual sharpness was softened by something heavier—resolve, maybe, or the weight of what lay ahead.

“What the hell was that voice?” I asked, turning to her. “It knew everything about Ecclesion, about the Light Eternal. What was it?”

“It was the Nexus itself,” Jessa said. “Or something tied to it. The resistance has records of voices like that—guardians, or echoes of whatever built these places. They’re rare, though, and most of the time, they’re... hostile.”

“Lucky us,” Farron said with a grin. “We found a chatty one.”

We stopped in a clearing not far from the temple, the trees providing a natural canopy that shielded us from prying eyes. Jessa knelt by a fallen log, spreading a rough map of Kaedralis across its surface.

“There are other Nexuses,” she said, tracing lines across the map with her finger. “The resistance has identified at least four locations where Ecclesion’s power seems... concentrated. If the voice was right, those are the places we need to target.”

“Let me guess,” Farron said, leaning over her shoulder. “They’re all crawling with Ecclesion soldiers.”

“Most likely,” Jessa replied, unfazed.

“And if they’re anything like that temple, they’ll be full of traps and ancient creepy voices,” Farron added.

“Probably,” Jessa said, her tone clipped.

“Fantastic,” he muttered.

I crouched next to the map, my eyes scanning the marked locations. They were scattered across the continent—one deep in the southern mountains, another buried in a marshland to the east, and two more near the northern borders where Ecclesion’s control was strongest.

“This is insane,” I said, the enormity of the task sinking in. “Even if we can reach these places, how are we supposed to fight Ecclesion and deal with whatever’s waiting inside?”

“We don’t have a choice,” Jessa said. “If we want to stop Ecclesion, we have to try.”

“She’s right,” Orin said, his voice steady. “But we can’t just charge in. We’ll need allies, resources, and information.”

I nodded, though the knot in my stomach tightened. “We need to find the resistance first.”

“They’ll know more about the Nexuses,” Jessa said. “And they’ll be able to help us plan. If they’re still intact.”

“They are,” Orin said firmly. “They have to be.”

We decided to head south toward the mountains, where the resistance was rumored to have a stronghold hidden among the peaks. It would take weeks, maybe longer, to reach it, but it was our best chance of regrouping and figuring out our next move.

The journey wouldn’t be easy. Ecclesion was likely already aware of our presence, and with every step, we risked drawing more attention.

But for the first time since I’d arrived in this world, I felt like we weren’t just running aimlessly.

We had a purpose.

As we prepared to leave the clearing, Farron fell into step beside me, his bow slung over his shoulder.

“So, Chosen One,” he said, his tone light. “How’s it feel to be leading the charge against a world-dominating empire?”

“Terrifying,” I admitted.

“Good,” he said, smirking. “Means you’re taking it seriously.”

“Do you ever take anything seriously?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Sure,” he said, his grin widening. “But if you take everything seriously, you’ll lose your mind. Trust me.”

“Noted,” I said, though his words lingered.

The day passed in a blur of cautious movement and constant vigilance. The forest was quiet, but every rustling leaf and snapping twig set my nerves on edge. Jessa led the way, her movements purposeful and silent, while Orin kept watch at the rear.

By nightfall, we reached a small ravine where the trees thinned, revealing a trickling stream surrounded by moss-covered rocks. It was as good a place as any to rest, though the tension in the air never quite faded.

As the fire crackled softly, Jessa unfolded the map again, her expression unreadable.

“If we’re lucky,” she said, “we can reach the southern resistance in two weeks. If Ecclesion doesn’t find us first.”

“Not much of a margin for error,” Farron said, stretching out on his bedroll.

“There never is,” Jessa replied.

I stared into the fire, the flickering flames casting dancing shadows on the trees around us. The weight of the mission—the Nexuses, the Light Eternal, Ecclesion—felt heavier now, more real.

“How did I end up in this?” I muttered to myself.

Jessa glanced at me, her expression softening slightly. “You didn’t choose this, Ash. None of us did. But we’re here now, and we have to see it through.”

“Right,” I said, forcing a weak smile.

That night, I dreamed of the temple.

The glowing runes, the shifting symbols, the deep, resonant voice—it all came back to me in sharp detail. But this time, the voice spoke directly to me, its tone low and urgent.

“You are not the first. But you may be the last.”

The words sent a chill through me, their meaning heavy with implication.

When I woke, the fire had burned low, and the others were still asleep.

I stared up at the stars through the canopy of trees, the voice’s words echoing in my mind.

Not the first.

But the last.

I didn’t know what it meant.

But I knew we were running out of time.