The darkness surged, tendrils of shadow spilling out across the cracked earth as the void pressed harder against the fragile threads of the barrier. The glowing fissures pulsed erratically, their light dimming as the chaotic energy disrupted their harmony.

The crystal in my hand burned brightly, its hum growing louder with every step I took toward the epicenter of the void’s attack. The towering shadowy figure that emerged from the rift wasn’t just another manifestation of the void’s power—it was something more.

Its form was massive, a swirling mass of darkness and fractured light that shifted and twisted unnaturally. Glowing eyes, like molten embers, burned with an intensity that made the air around us feel heavier, harder to breathe.

“We’re out of time,” I said, gripping the crystal tightly.

Jessa was already moving, her blade flashing as she led the charge toward the figure. “Then we make time!” she shouted.

Ryla and Farron moved to higher ground, their bows drawn as they loosed arrows into the void’s shifting form. Orin followed Jessa, his shield raised as he cut through the shadowy tendrils lashing out toward us.

I pressed forward, the hum of the crystal syncing with the chaotic rhythm of the barrier. The threads were trembling violently now, their fragile harmony on the verge of collapse.

“You cannot stop this,” the void’s voice pressed against my mind, vast and suffocating. “The threads are breaking. The cycle will end.”

“I’ve heard that before,” I muttered, the crystal flaring brighter as I focused its energy on the swirling darkness.

The figure roared, its form shifting violently as the light from the crystal collided with its chaotic energy. The ground beneath us cracked and trembled, glowing fissures spreading outward in jagged lines.

Farron’s voice cut through the chaos. “Arrows aren’t doing much! We need another plan!”

“Keep firing!” Jessa shouted as she ducked beneath a lashing tendril, her blade slicing cleanly through its shadowy mass. “Ash needs time!”

I moved closer to the center of the battlefield, the crystal’s energy growing stronger as it synced with the threads of the barrier. The void’s presence was overwhelming, pressing against my thoughts like a storm.

The towering figure turned its molten gaze on me, its voice resonating through the air. “Anomaly. You do not belong here. Your presence fractures the threads.”

“And yet, here I am,” I said, raising the crystal.

The light surged, cutting through the void’s form and forcing it to recoil. But even as its tendrils dissolved, the threads of the barrier trembled, their fragile balance slipping further out of alignment.

“This isn’t enough,” I said, my voice barely audible over the chaos. “The threads can’t hold like this.”

Jessa fought her way to my side, her breath coming in ragged gasps. “What do you need?”

“Time,” I said. “And focus. I need to stabilize the threads before they break completely.”

“Then we’ll give you time,” she said, turning to the others. “Hold the line! Whatever it takes!”

Ryla’s arrows struck true, disrupting the void’s advancing tendrils and forcing them back. Farron focused on the rift itself, his shots aimed at the glowing fissures where the shadows were strongest. Orin shielded Jessa as they cut a path through the chaos, their movements precise and relentless.

I dropped to one knee, pressing the crystal against the ground. Its light flared, syncing with the glowing fissures as the threads of the barrier pulsed violently around me.

The void’s voice pressed against my thoughts again, its presence growing more insistent. “The threads are fragile. You cannot hold them alone.”

“I’m not alone,” I said, focusing the crystal’s energy.

The threads pulsed in response, their chaotic rhythm beginning to align with the crystal’s steady hum. The fissures around me glowed brighter, their light pushing back against the encroaching darkness.

The void roared, its shadowy form surging forward in a final, desperate attack.

Jessa and Orin intercepted the tendrils, their blades flashing as they fought to keep the void at bay. Ryla and Farron’s arrows rained down from above, each strike disrupting the shadows and forcing them to recoil.

The crystal in my hand burned hotter, its light growing brighter as it merged with the threads of the barrier. The rhythm was stabilizing, the harmony returning—but it wasn’t enough. The void’s presence was too strong, its energy pressing harder against the barrier with every passing moment.

“We can’t hold it forever!” Ryla shouted, loosing another arrow.

“We don’t have to,” I said, the crystal’s energy surging as I forced it deeper into the threads. “Just a little longer!”

The void roared again, its massive form flickering as the light from the crystal overwhelmed it. The fissures around us pulsed violently, their glow merging into a blinding light that filled the battlefield.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

The threads of the barrier trembled one final time before aligning completely, their rhythm steady and unyielding.

The void recoiled, its shadowy tendrils dissolving into the air as its presence retreated.

And then, silence.

The battlefield was still, the faint hum of the stabilized barrier the only sound in the air. The glowing fissures had dimmed, their light soft but steady.

Jessa lowered her blade, her breath coming in shallow gasps. “Is it over?”

“For now,” I said, my voice heavy with exhaustion.

The others regrouped around me, their faces etched with relief and concern.

“The barrier’s holding,” I said, gripping the crystal tightly. “But it’s not unbreakable. The void will try again.”

“Then we’ll be ready,” Jessa said firmly.

I nodded, though the weight of the moment pressed heavily against my chest.

The fight wasn’t over.

But for now, we had won.

The silence after the battle was thick, the kind that weighed heavily on your chest rather than bringing relief. The glowing fissures had settled into a faint rhythm, their light steady but fragile. The threads of the barrier were holding, but I could still feel the tension beneath the surface—a quiet warning that this victory was temporary.

The others stood close, their weapons still drawn as their eyes scanned the horizon. Even Farron wasn’t cracking jokes, his bow still nocked and ready for another attack.

“It feels... different,” Ryla said, her voice low. “The air. The threads. Like it’s quieter.”

“It is,” I said, staring at the crystal in my hand. Its light was dim now, its hum a faint echo of the energy it once held. “The void’s pull is weaker. For now.”

Jessa wiped the blood from her blade, her movements sharp and deliberate. “You keep saying ‘for now.’ What happens next? What happens when the void comes back?”

I met her gaze, my chest tightening. “The threads will hold for a while, but the barrier’s still fragile. The void’s retreating because we stabilized it here, but it’s not gone. It’s never gone.”

“And Ecclesion?” Orin asked, his tone grim.

“They’re scattered,” I said. “But they won’t stop. They’ll regroup, and they’ll keep coming for the Nexuses. For the barrier.”

“Then we stop them,” Jessa said firmly.

The others nodded, their resolve clear despite the exhaustion in their faces.

Ryla glanced at the glowing fissures beneath our feet, her brow furrowed. “And if we can’t stop them? If the barrier breaks completely?”

I hesitated, the weight of the question pressing against me. “If the barrier breaks, it’s over. The void will consume everything, and there won’t be anything left to fight for.”

Farron let out a dry laugh, though it lacked his usual humor. “Well, that’s a comforting thought.”

Jessa shot him a sharp look. “Enough, Farron. We’ve already done the impossible. We’ll do it again if we have to.”

I glanced at her, the determination in her voice steadying me. “She’s right,” I said. “We’ve stabilized the barrier. We’ve pushed back the void. And we’ll keep fighting for as long as it takes.”

The crystal pulsed faintly in my hand, its light aligning with the threads of the barrier one final time. The rhythm was steady now, but the fragility beneath it hadn’t disappeared.

“We need to move,” Jessa said, breaking the tense silence. “Ecclesion might still have forces nearby, and the void won’t give us a second chance if it tries again.”

I nodded, tucking the crystal into my belt. “Let’s go. We’ve done what we can here.”

The group began to move, their steps cautious but deliberate as we left the battlefield behind. The glowing fissures faded into the distance, their light a faint reminder of the fight we’d just survived.

As we walked, the weight of the crystal pressed against my thoughts, a constant reminder of the responsibility I carried. The barrier was holding—for now.

But the void wasn’t finished.

And neither were we.

The quiet after the battle stayed with us as we moved through the fractured landscape. The air was lighter now, the oppressive pull of the void retreating to the edges of my thoughts. The faint hum of the barrier remained, its rhythm steady but fragile—a constant reminder of what we had won and what we could still lose.

I carried the crystal in my hand, its once-brilliant light now dimmed to a soft glow. It felt lighter than before, almost weightless, but its presence was no less significant. The threads of the barrier were holding, stabilized for now, but I could still feel the tension beneath their rhythm.

Jessa fell into step beside me, her blade sheathed but her expression still hard with determination. “You think the void will stay quiet?”

“No,” I said, my voice steady despite the exhaustion pressing against me. “But it’ll take time for it to recover. Time we can use to prepare.”

Ryla walked on my other side, her bow slung across her back. “And Ecclesion? They’re not going to sit back and let us keep stabilizing these Nexuses. They’ll come for us again.”

“They’ll regroup,” I said. “They’ve lost their foothold here, but they’re not gone. If we’re going to stop them for good, we’ll need to take the fight to them.”

“Not just them,” Jessa added, her voice low. “The void’s still pulling at the edges of the barrier. If we don’t figure out a permanent solution, we’ll just keep fighting the same battle.”

I nodded, gripping the crystal tighter. “We’ll find a way. We have to.”

The group crested a hill, the glowing fissures behind us fading into the distance. Ahead, the cracked earth stretched out into barren plains, the first hints of greenery visible on the horizon. It was the edge of the Deadlands—the first real sign that we were leaving this broken, hostile place behind.

Farron let out a low whistle, his voice cutting through the silence. “Never thought I’d say this, but I might actually miss all the glowing rocks and void monsters. Makes the regular world feel... boring.”

“Boring sounds nice right now,” Ryla said, smirking faintly.

Orin chuckled, his tone light despite the tension still lingering in the group. “Let’s see how long that lasts.”

We set up camp just beyond the edge of the Deadlands, the first patches of grass soft underfoot. The air here was warmer, lighter, free from the suffocating weight of the void’s presence.

I sat apart from the others, the crystal resting in my lap as I stared at the distant horizon. The barrier’s hum was quieter now, its rhythm calm but still fragile. It wasn’t over. The void would return, Ecclesion would regroup, and the threads would need to be stabilized again.

But for now, we had won.

Jessa approached quietly, sitting beside me without a word. She didn’t need to say anything—her presence was enough.

Finally, she broke the silence. “You did it, Ash. We did it.”

“For now,” I said, my voice soft. “But you’re right. We’ll find another way. A way to keep the barrier stable without tying it to me.”

She nodded, her expression firm. “We’ve beaten impossible odds before. We’ll do it again.”

I met her gaze, the weight in my chest lifting slightly. “Together.”

As dawn broke over the horizon, the group packed up camp and prepared to move again. The faint light of the stabilized Nexuses was visible in the distance, their glow a reminder of what we had fought for—and what was still at stake.

We set off toward the plains, the weight of the journey behind us and the uncertainty of the future ahead.

The void wasn’t finished. Ecclesion wasn’t finished.

But neither were we.

This wasn’t the end.

It was a beginning.