The world had vanished, replaced by…something else.
His vision darkened around the edges, and he felt his body go limp, collapsing against the wall behind him. He was dimly aware of Tara calling his name, but her voice was soon drowned out by something deeper, more insistent, pulling him away from the present moment.
The vision came like a sudden tidal wave.
Ethan found himself standing in the middle of a vast, unfamiliar city. The landscape was unlike anything he had seen before—sky-scraping spires twisted and stretched toward the heavens, each one shimmering like they were built from glass and smoke. The city shimmered in a haze, almost as if it was an illusion, barely anchored in reality. As he turned to take it all in, a heartbeat pulsed through the air, slow and methodical, as though the city itself was alive.
The City of Illusions… Ethan thought, though he wasn’t sure where the knowledge had come from.
The spires of the dream-like city rose around him like organic structures, shifting in shape, their colors constantly shifting between shades of silver, violet, and blue. Then, one tower in particular caught his attention—a large, pulsating structure at the heart of the city. The tower was grotesquely organic, with walls that seemed to breathe, veins of light coursing through its flesh-like surface. The pulsing heartbeat grew louder as Ethan stared at it, each beat reverberating through the ground beneath his feet.
A voice broke through the vision, fragmented and ethereal like whispers carried on the wind.
Ethan…
The voice was like nothing he’d ever heard before. Soft, yet insistent. Pained, yet proud. And with a tone that seemed to conjure a sense of nostalgia, somehow…like one of his past lives recognized it.
…Archon.
He nodded in the void, feeling weightless and listless. It was like walking through a pool of treacle that he couldn’t see.
Find me…in… the tower, the voice instructed, and only now did Ethan realize that it was a woman’s voice, familiar yet distant.
Jun’Ei…
Ethan's vision zoomed in on the grotesque tower, the focus narrowing as though the entire city fell away, leaving only the beating structure in front of him. He saw himself standing before a door—ancient and covered in a dense mesh of roots and vines. Behind it, something called to him, something buried deep within.
Inside…must…find the chamber…tell you how... the voice came again, more clear this time, but still fragmented. Break…Kaedmon’s Law…
Ethan strained to listen, his pulse quickening as the tower’s pulse quickened in tandem. The voice’s urgency escalated.
Only…there…Ethan…
Suddenly, the vision shifted, the tower fading as blurry images began to flash before his eyes—vague at first, but then sharper. He saw glimpses of Artorious, his eyes blazing with cold determination, flanked by the Greycloaks. Their forms marched through shadowed lands, their armor glinting under a pale light. Ethan couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the sight of them sent a shiver down his spine.
Then, Jun’Ei’s voice rang out, clear and cryptic: They are coming.
Ethan felt a jolt, like his entire body was yanked back into reality. His eyes flew open, gasping for air as his vision came back into focus. He was no longer in the City of Illusions but slumped against the wall of the great hall where Klax’s party had been brought to an abrupt halt. Klax, Tara, and Fauna were all gathered around him, their faces etched with concern.
"Hey, Ethan!" Tara was shaking his shoulder. "What the hell happened? You collapsed!"
Fauna’s wide eyes were full of worry, her hands glowing faintly with magic, as if she’d been trying to revive him.
Ethan’s chest heaved as he tried to find the words, his breath ragged. He reached out, grabbing Klax’s arm with firm fingers.
"Jun’Ei…" he coughed, his voice hoarse. "She… she’s…"
Klax’s expression changed immediately, a deep, knowing look flashing across his wolfish eyes. He knelt down beside Ethan, his grip firm but steady on Ethan’s shoulder. “I knew it. I knew it all along,” Klax said quietly.
Tara and Fauna exchanged confused glances, but Klax didn’t wait to explain. His expression hardened with resolve as he stood up, his voice carrying across the hall.
“Everyone, suit up,” Klax barked, his usual calm demeanor replaced with urgency. “We’re going to the final Delve.”
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The City of Illusions stretched out before Artorious like a dream warped into a nightmare. The shimmering, ghostly light of the city played tricks on the eye, twisting reality and making the sprawling structures seem to shift like vapor. Beneath his boots, the ground was slick with the ghostly blood of the Dreamstrider mantas—the once-majestic creatures that glided through the illusory city, now reduced to torn remnants.
Artorious stood over hundreds of their bodies, his breath slow and steady despite the carnage around him. His Onixia blade gleamed with the strange, ethereal fluid that spilled from their broken forms, the blade itself reflecting the pale light in a way that made it look as though it too were part of the illusions. But there was nothing illusory about the bodies beneath his feet, nor the weight of the mission ahead.
His team of Greycloaks stood with him, equally bloodied but silent as they stared at the towering structure before them—the Nerve Tower. The grotesque, living spire pulsed, veins of light traveling up its organic surface like a heartbeat, reminding them all that this place was alive in some deep, unsettling way. Artorious watched it with unblinking eyes, his grip on the Onixia blade tight.
From behind him, Carliah’s voice broke the silence, a teasing edge lacing her words. “Quite the slaughter, isn’t it, Artorious? Hundreds of Dreamstriders, all ghostly and beautiful, and you didn’t even blink. But tell me…” She stepped forward, her black eyes gleaming with mischief. “Are you truly prepared for what’s ahead?”
Artorious didn’t respond immediately. His gaze remained fixed on the beating tower, its rhythmic pulse matching the steady tempo of his own heartbeat. The air was thick with the scent of blood and the strange, otherworldly aroma of the dream-like city. Carliah’s taunting voice didn’t stir him—not yet.
“I’ve been prepared since Gyko’s death,” he said, his voice cold and resolute. He sheathed the Onixia blade with a practiced motion, its dark glow fading as it disappeared into the scabbard.
Carliah’s grin widened, her voice dripping with condescension. “You know what you’re going to see in there, don’t you?”
For a brief moment, Artorious hesitated, his eyes narrowing as he finally turned his gaze toward her. There was a flicker of something in his expression—a shadow, perhaps, of the past that clung to him like a curse. Carliah stepped closer, sensing his brief moment of hesitation and pressing her advantage.
“Doesn’t it bother you?” she whispered, her voice soft and venomous. “After all this time? The utter disdain your brothers and sisters have for you? The way they look at you—like a reminder of everything they wish they could forget.”
Artorious’s jaw clenched. His hands tightened into fists at his sides, but he refused to let the weight of her words sink too deep. Instead, he met her gaze with a hard, unflinching stare. “What do you want me to say, Carliah? That I’m haunted by my past? That the ghosts of those I failed keep me from having anything but restless dreams?”
He took a step toward her, the full force of his presence pressing down like a storm cloud ready to break. “I know my failings, and I know what you all think of me. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. But it won’t stop me from doing what needs to be done.”
For a long moment, neither spoke. The weight of Artorious’s words hung in the air like the pulse of the tower behind them. The other Greycloaks remained silent, watching their leader with a mixture of respect and guarded suspicion. Artorious’s resolve was ironclad, but his history with them was far more complicated.
Without waiting for a response, Artorious turned and strode toward the tower’s entrance. The heavy, fleshy doors seemed to part for him as if the tower itself recognized his approach. He didn’t look back as he stepped inside, the darkness of the tower swallowing him whole.
The other Greycloaks followed in silence, one by one, their armor clinking softly as they passed through the threshold. Carliah lingered at the entrance for a moment longer, shaking her head with a wry smile as she watched Artorious disappear into the shadows.
Well, well, Arty, she mused to herself, stepping through the fleshy doorway. Maybe there’s some of the old Lightborn spirit still in you, after all. The question is… will that be enough?
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All of Sanctum watched the procession of Ethan and his Hybrids as they marched towards the portal chamber.
The excitement of Klax’s party was all but forgotten. Now, the only buzz in the underground kingdom was that of expectation – of the Archon going to fulfill his destiny.
In the wake of Ethan’s vision, Borlor had come running to find them and explain that, as soon as they’d unshackled the portal, a blinding light had shot out from it in a ring that covered the entire Sanctum.
“It was like – like some kinda scream,” the Dixit coughed, twitching his conal nose in the face of the determined Klax.
“A psychic wave,” Lamphrey explained as she walked beside them, having quietly reappeared like a specter in the night. “The residual energies of a consciousness trapped there in the Delve. And a powerful one, at that.”
“It’s her,” Klax said as he quickened his pace.
Tara rushed to keep up, here eyes darting from Ethan to Klax, and even to Fauna – seeing nothing but determination in their faces.
“Look, how can you be sure? Did ya actually see Jun’Ei, Ethan?”
“I didn’t have to,” he replied. “That kind of power was…beyond anything I’ve felt before.”
“It’s her,” Klax said again, his fangs flaring in both excitement and trepidation while the hybrids on the streets looked on in awe. “It’s he-“
“This could be a trap!” Tara roared, standing in front of him before he entered the portal chamber. “Just think about it – isn’t this exactly what the Lightborn wants? For us to go rushing off into the unknown like this? If he’s really there with that woman – Carliah – we gotta be ready, Klax. You know it.”
“And the more time we waste here discussing this,” the wolfman growled in reply. “The more time Jun’Ei’s life fades away.”
The portal to the Delve roared behind them – another wave of energy pulsing from its core and almost throwing them off their feet.
“It’s stability is wavering!” Lamphrey shouted as she rushed to join her mages as they weaved arcs of lightning between the folds of the raging portal. “It is now or never, Archon Ethan!”
Ethan took one look at his team and nodded, clasping Tara’s shoulder with a firm, strong hand. He knew that, in this moment, she was wavering. But she knew she couldn’t convince them to back down from the fight that was coming.
“Watch our backs, Tara. We need you more than anything, now.”
The Minxit looked up at him with an emotion he’d never seen in her face before: fear. And he knew then that this Delve was going to be different.
“…fuck it,” she said. “If you really are the last Archon, I ain’t gonna miss your finest moment.”