As Alex stepped past Wyll and into the portal, an icy darkness swallowed him whole. The world behind him—the faces of Shadowheart, Lae'zel, and Astarion, twisted in horror—vanished in an instant. It felt as if he had stepped into an endless void, where space itself bled into nothingness.
The air was thick, heavy with an oppressive force that clung to his skin like tar.
The air grew thick and oppressive, clinging to his skin like tar. It sapped at his strength, each breath a struggle, each movement like wading through quicksand. The chromatic orb in his chest flared faintly, its light barely piercing the suffocating darkness, as though it too were being drained by the void.
Then, suddenly, the silence broke. A whisper—low, insidious, and resonant—slithered through the void, wrapping around his mind like a vice.
"Mortal..."
The voice was not Wyll’s. It was vast, ancient, and cruel. It carried the weight of eternity, a sound that made the void itself seem insignificant. It bore into Alex’s very soul, prying at his fears, his grief, his anger.
Then he saw it—the distant flicker of Karlach’s soul. It pulsed weakly, like a candle in a storm, the light struggling against the encroaching darkness. Tendrils of shadow coiled around it, wrapping tight like serpents constricting their prey.
Alex took a step forward, and the shadows reacted immediately. They lunged, their razor-thin edges slashing toward him, intent on carving him apart. He barely had time to react before his body responded instinctively, shifting, warping—his skin darkened with elemental energy, his very essence becoming fluid as he evaded the strike.
His mind raced. He had expected resistance, but this was something else.
"You come to steal what belongs to the Dark Lady?" The voice of Shar slithered around him, whispering from every direction. "You will fail, as all mortals do."
Alex’s fists clenched, his chromatic orb flaring to life within his chest. The storm of magic swirled around him, his very body igniting with raw energy.
He launched forward, his blade arm morphing into jagged obsidian, crackling with raw power. With a single slash, he tore through the nearest tendrils, their darkness shrieking as they evaporated into nothingness. But for every shadow he destroyed, more appeared, writhing from the abyss like endless tides.
A shadow-wraith emerged from the void—its form vaguely humanoid, yet shifting constantly, its limbs extending unnaturally as it rushed toward him. Alex ducked low, his claws extending from his free hand as he raked through the creature’s chest, its form dissipating into black mist.
Still, the void did not relent. The very ground beneath him shifted, warping into jagged obsidian spires. He leapt from platform to platform, moving faster, pushing forward—toward Karlach’s fading light.
The soul was flickering now, dimming, as if on the verge of being snuffed out. The tendrils had tightened their grip.
Alex stretched out his hand, reaching.
Almost there.
Then the abyss screamed.
The shadows collapsed inward, forming something—something monstrous.
A colossal figure rose before him, draped in darkness. A towering wraith, its skeletal face obscured by a veil of writhing black tendrils. Its eyes—twin pools of void—stared into his soul.
"You are too late," the voice of Shar whispered. "She is already mine."
A clawed hand shot forward.
Alex barely had time to react before the world exploded into pain.
The impact sent him hurtling backward, crashing into the abyssal ground. Shadows slithered up his limbs, pinning him down.
Karlach’s soul flickered one last time.
Then it stopped.
The light was gone.
A silence heavier than death filled the void.
Alex’s chest heaved. His eyes widened in horror.
“No…” His voice was hoarse. "No, no, NO!"
Shar’s laughter echoed through the darkness, victorious.
"You should have known better."
Alex’s vision blurred, his hands trembling as he reached toward the spot where Karlach’s soul had been. His breaths came in ragged, uneven gasps, the weight of failure pressing down on him like an unyielding tide. Grief and fury coiled within his chest, growing tighter, sharper, until they erupted in a soundless scream within his mind.
And then—something snapped.
A roar erupted from Alex’s throat, raw and primal, shaking the very fabric of the void. It was not merely a cry of anguish; it was a defiance, a challenge to the abyss itself. The chromatic orb embedded in his chest flared violently, its brilliance eclipsing the surrounding darkness. It pulsed erratically, each burst of light surging through his veins like molten fire, saturating every fiber of his being with unchecked, unrelenting power.
His body convulsed, twisting unnaturally as the elemental forces he had absorbed demanded release. Fire licked across his skin, scorching and renewing in the same instant, while lightning arced wildly, tearing through the void with cracks of blinding intensity. His flesh hardened, turning to obsidian-like scales that shimmered with an iridescent glow, each ridge pulsating with the energies of the elements that coursed through him.
His face twisted into something inhuman, monstrous. His jaw elongated, jagged obsidian teeth glinting like blades as an unearthly snarl tore from his lips. His eyes burned, twin pools of molten gold that radiated an intensity too fierce to behold. Where once they reflected sorrow, they now gleamed with a fury that promised annihilation. Tendrils of smoke and steam hissed from his form, the very air around him warping and distorting as waves of heat and cold radiated outward in chaotic bursts.
His limbs grew, muscles bulging grotesquely as his hands transformed into claws—long, sharp, and glinting like freshly forged steel. Shadows writhed around him, no longer threatening but obedient, bending to his will. They coiled around his frame like living armor, intertwining with the flames and lightning that now encased him. His silhouette became a grotesque amalgamation of all the elements he had consumed, a figure of raw, unbridled destruction.
The void itself seemed to recoil. The oppressive darkness that had once pressed down on him now faltered, quivering under the weight of his unleashed power. The tendrils that had sought to bind him writhed and disintegrated, their essence consumed by the maelstrom of energy that surrounded him.
And then—from within the abyss, something appeared.
A single ember.
Small. Barely flickering.
But alive.
Alex’s blazing eyes locked onto it, the swirling chaos of his form momentarily stilling. That faint light, fragile yet defiant, ignited something within him that no power in the void could extinguish.
Hope.
And that was all he needed.
With an earth-shattering cry, Alex surged forward. The void howled in protest, shadows converging into monstrous shapes to block his path, but they were no match for the force he had become. He slashed through them with claws that cleaved darkness itself, his monstrous form a storm of fire, lightning, and shadows. Each step left cracks in the fabric of the void, the abyss trembling beneath his relentless advance.
The ember flickered, its light dimming as the shadows tightened their grip, but Alex’s fury only grew. He stretched out his clawed hand, raw energy surging from his fingertips. The flames that engulfed him intensified, their heat so intense that even the void began to dissolve in their wake.
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“You will not take her from me!” his voice bellowed, distorted and layered with the echoes of countless elements. It was no longer just Alex speaking—it was the voice of a primordial force, a harbinger of vengeance and salvation.
The final shadow lunged at him, a towering wraith of impossible size and malice. Its claws reached for him, but Alex met it head-on, his monstrous form crashing into it with the force of a falling star. The impact sent shockwaves rippling through the void, and with a guttural snarl, Alex tore the shadow apart, scattering its essence into nothingness.
He dove toward the ember, his monstrous claws retracting as his hand returned to its human form. The light of the chromatic orb in his chest dimmed, focusing entirely into his outstretched palm. The ember was within reach, its faint warmth brushing against his fingers.
With a final surge of will, Alex grasped it, cradling it in his palm as though it were the most precious thing in existence. The ember flared brightly, its light pushing back the remaining darkness
“I’ve got you, Karlach,” he whispered, his voice raw but resolute.
The ember pulsed softly, as if in response, its warmth spreading through him.
The darkness surrounding Alex thickened, the oppressive void closing in like a living, breathing entity. His body burned with unrestrained elemental energy, his transformation a tempest of raw fury. Yet, despite the power coursing through him, he felt a sharp chill crawl up his spine.
Before Alex could react, an obsidian blade pierced the chromatic orb embedded in his chest. Pain unlike anything he had ever known ripped through him, the raw connection to his elemental energies faltering. His knees buckled, his breath hitching as he looked up. From the shadows emerged a figure, her presence overwhelming.
Shar.
The goddess of darkness and loss stood before him, her form an elegant manifestation of shadow and malice. Her obsidian mask covered the upper half of her face, leaving only her cold, calculating smile visible. Her robes were woven from threads of pure darkness, cascading around her like liquid night. She stepped closer, her heels clicking softly against the void as though even the abyss bowed to her will.
“Oh, Alex Mercer,” Shar said, her voice silky and dripping with contempt. “A mortal who dares to defy me, to reach where even gods fear to tread. How delightfully foolish.”
Her smile faltered as she noticed the blade of pure darkness she had plunged into his chest—the weapon meant to obliterate his essence—beginning to fade, its energy absorbed by the chromatic orb. A flicker of confusion crossed her face before it was replaced by cold rage.
“What…?”
The chromatic orb pulsed violently, the netherstone embedded within it flaring to life with a brilliance that defied the oppressive shadows. Alex gritted his teeth, his monstrous form trembling as he forced himself to stand. His eyes burned with defiance, his voice guttural and layered with the echoes of elemental power.
“You made a mistake coming here, goddess.”
Shar’s gaze narrowed, her voice losing its earlier mockery. “You think you’re capable of standing against me? I am the void. I am the end. You are nothing.”
“Then I’ll show you what nothing can do,” Alex growled.
The netherstone flared again, and from the orb, a blade materialized in Alex’s hand. It wasn’t just a weapon—it was an abomination, a tear in reality itself. The sword seemed to hum with an otherworldly frequency, its edges shimmering like broken glass reflecting a thousand impossible dimensions. Where it moved, the very fabric of existence recoiled, leaving jagged scars in the air.
The void around them howled as Shar took a step back, her mask unable to hide the flicker of unease that crossed her features.
“A blade that cuts reality?” she whispered, her tone tinged with surprise and anger. “How dare you wield such power against me!”
Without warning, Shar lashed out. The void around her came alive, shadows coiling and striking like vipers. Tendrils of darkness sought to bind Alex, to crush him under their overwhelming weight. But Alex was ready. He swung the blade, and where it passed, the shadows disintegrated, their very essence erased from existence.
“I will kill you !” Alex roared, his voice reverberating through the void.
He lunged forward, the blade in his hand slicing through the air with devastating precision. Shar summoned a barrier of pure darkness, a construct of her divine power, but the blade cleaved through it like parchment. Sparks of unreality burst forth, each clash sending shockwaves rippling through the abyss.
Shar retaliated, her movements elegant and lethal. She conjured a storm of midnight, spears of shadow raining down upon Alex. He dodged and deflected them with supernatural agility, his monstrous form moving with a grace that belied its size. But for every spear he shattered, another struck true, cutting into his flesh and drawing blood that glowed with chromatic light.
Despite the wounds, Alex pressed on. He swung the blade in a wide arc, the air itself screaming as the weapon tore through reality. Shar sidestepped, but the sheer force of the attack sent her stumbling back. Her mask cracked slightly, revealing a glimpse of her pale, inhuman skin beneath.
“You are persistent,” Shar hissed, her composure slipping. “But persistence will not save you.”
She raised her hands, and the void itself surged forward, an all-encompassing wave of darkness that threatened to swallow Alex whole. It crashed against him like a tidal wave, forcing him to his knees. The chromatic orb flickered, its light dimming under the immense pressure.
“You cannot win,” Shar said, her voice cold and final. “You are but a spark in the endless void.”
But Alex’s grip on the blade tightened. His body trembled, not with fear, but with fury.
“Then I’ll make damn sure you remember this spark,” he growled.
The netherstone surged, its energy reigniting. Alex let out a primal roar as his power reached a fever pitch. Flames, lightning, and shadow burst from his body in a chaotic maelstrom, the elements intertwining in a devastating display of raw might. The blade in his hand flared brighter, its edge cutting through the void as he swung it with all his strength.
The impact was cataclysmic. The blade met Shar’s form, and for the first time, the goddess staggered. Her projection flickered, the void around her destabilizing. Alex’s body screamed in protest, his monstrous form barely holding together under the strain, but he refused to stop.
“This is for Karlach!” he roared, his voice echoing through the collapsing abyss.
With one final, devastating strike, Alex drove the blade into Shar’s projection. The void shattered, fragments of shadow and light scattering into the ether. Shar let out a furious scream as her form dissolved, her voice fading but not without leaving a final message.
“You cannot escape the void, Alex Mercer. I will see you consumed by it.”
As her presence faded, Alex fell to his knees, his blade dissolving into the ether. The chromatic orb in his chest dimmed, its power spent. He was battered, broken, but alive.
Alex looked into his palm where the ember of Karlach’s soul flickered once more, faint but enduring.
He forced himself to his feet, his gaze fixed on the ember. “I’m not done yet,” he whispered, his voice hoarse but determined.
And with that, he began to walk forward.
Wyll’s gaze snapped to the right, his body tense as the air itself seemed to split apart. Reality bent and tore, and from the jagged rupture, a figure stumbled through. It was monstrous, its form cloaked in flickering flames and shadow. For a moment, Wyll’s lips curled into a grimace, his thoughts racing. ‘That thing must be Alex,’ he thought, though the sight of him was almost unrecognizable. The figure stumbled forward, collapsing to its knees. The fiery light that radiated from its form flickered weakly, as though it were a candle on the verge of being snuffed out.
Alex lifted his gaze, the glowing chromatic orb embedded in his chest pulsing erratically. His monstrous visage twisted as his golden eyes surveyed the scene before him. His breath caught in his throat, the horror of what lay before him cutting deeper than any blade.
Astarion was inside a shimmering barrier of psionic energy. Lae’zel sat behind him, her face pale and slick with sweat as she clutched at the bleeding stump where her right leg had been. She was struggling to stem the flow of blood, her expression defiant even as her strength waned. The ground beneath her was a pool of red, the sharp tang of iron heavy in the air.
Astarion’s normally composed features were marred by exhaustion and pain. His body was riddled with deep, jagged cuts, the shadows clinging to his wounds like leeches, seeping into his flesh. Blood dripped steadily from his nose, ears, and eyes, signs of the immense strain he was under as he struggled to maintain the protective barrier. Despite his dire state, his crimson eyes met Alex’s, and within them, Alex saw a flicker of hope.
‘How much time have I lost?’ Alex thought, his mind racing. But as his gaze moved to the side, his heart froze.
There, sprawled on the cold, blood-slicked ground, was Shadowheart. Her body lay unnaturally still, her white hair fanned out around her like a halo. A deep, gaping hole marred her chest, her lifeless eyes staring up at nothing.
“No...” Alex’s voice cracked, the single word falling from his lips like a broken plea.
The world around him seemed to distort, reality bending and twisting as his rage and grief surged. In an instant, he was at Shadowheart’s side, kneeling before her. His trembling hand reached out, pressing against her chest. The warmth that had once defined her, the vibrant essence of her life, was gone. Tears welled in his glowing eyes, streaking down his monstrous face as the realization settled in his chest like a stone.
Behind him, Wyll moved. Cloaked in darkness, his rapier glowed with shadows and crackling psionic energy. His steps were swift and silent as he closed in on Alex, his weapon poised to strike. But just as the blade was about to meet its mark, the chromatic orb embedded in Alex’s chest pulsed violently.
Wyll staggered, the shadows and psionic energy dissipating from his blade as if snuffed out by an unseen force. He barely had time to react before dark, jagged spikes erupted from Alex’s back. They moved like serpents, coiling through the air before shooting forward. The spikes impaled Wyll’s body with a sickening wet sound, piercing through flesh and bone with ruthless precision. His breath hitched, his eyes wide with shock as he was dragged toward Alex, his body dangling like a marionette.
Alex stood slowly, his massive form towering over Wyll as the spikes retracted, leaving the man to collapse at his feet. Alex placed a clawed hand over Wyll’s face, and the world seemed to pause. In that moment, Wyll’s memories poured into Alex’s mind like a torrent.
He saw Wyll’s desperation, his bitterness and rage. He saw the moment Shar had appeared to him, her promises whispered like poison in his ear. She had offered him power, the means to bring Alex to his knees and claim vengeance for all the perceived wrongs. And Wyll had accepted—not out of coercion or manipulation, but of his own volition.
Alex’s hand trembled as he pulled back, the flood of memories leaving him shaken. He stared down at Wyll, whose bloodied face twisted into a smirk, even as his body shuddered with pain.
“You see now,” Wyll rasped, his voice weak but laced with venom. “This was my choice. I wanted this.”
Alex’s golden eyes burned, his monstrous form casting an imposing shadow over Wyll. He didn’t speak, his grief and fury too immense to be expressed in words. Instead, the chromatic orb in his chest flared once more, its light casting long, flickering shadows across the blood-stained ground. The air grew heavy with tension, the promise of retribution lingering in the silence as Alex prepared to make his next move.