They shall reignite the Powers, and the Rift shall return in the days before the Final War.

-Excerpt from The Book of Eternity

Xanala’s finger snapped back and forth violently as she dashed through the Undercity, desperately trying to avoid the dronecopters that hovered above the city, their spotlights shining down on the floor. She’d left her father’s Surgeblade -- drained as it was -- to distract them, but it seemed they had realized she wasn’t near it. There was still a good chance they wouldn’t find her, thankfully; the Undercity was a complex maze of cobbled buildings, thin caverns, and tall pillars holding up the cave ceiling. But they made her twitch anxiously all the same.

You are weak. You always have been.

Strangely, she didn’t hear the voice of the Void. Instead, she heard her father’s voice, ranting his angry cries over and over. It was terrible, how similar that voice was to Oblivion’s. It was even more terrible that she still desperately wanted to love that voice, even now that it had totally, completely betrayed her.

One of the searchlights drifted dangerously close to Xanala, forcing her to duck inside an abandoned building and underneath a portion of the ceiling that hadn’t yet crumbled. She watched the dronecopter, finger twitching still, and gulped as she saw silhouettes drop from the bottom of the vehicle. Apparently, they’d decided a full-on hunt was appropriate. She shivered as she thought of herself in one of those cells, needles driving through skin and down to bone, all to traumatize her enough to produce a Surge…

You are weak.

She shook her head. “No,” she growled. Part of her worried at how feral her voice already sounded, but most of her didn’t care. “I am not weak. I am free.”

She closed her eyes, trying to plan. Trying to think of a way to get out of here. She thought of several, but they all had holes in them. Holes that would turn into a flood of pain and sorrow if she didn’t seal them. She cursed, racking her brain. Nothing came.

Give me control.

She shivered. That was… her father’s voice. And Oblivion’s. They still seemed to mix in her mind, somehow both voices and yet one voice at the same time. Like a choir of past memories, present problems, and future condemnation. Her scar burned on her arm.

Let me seal the holes. Let me hide you, the Void whispered. I will not fail you.

I am not as weak as your father.

The words were accompanied by a flood of calming euphoria, and a prickle on her spine that was somehow warm and cold simultaneously. She felt red mist rise from her skin, which was now glowing faintly.

I will not fail you.

It was so tempting. But she shook her head. “No. No one controls me. No more trust. Not anymore.”

A lie. But it was enough. The red light faded, and Xanala closed her eyes, burning Purity. The process racked her muscles, and she collapsed from the sheer exhaustion of it, but she barely succeeded, and within a moment or two she was back on her feet, invigorated by the rush of Purity in her veins.

I probably won’t be able to use it again today, though, she realized. If you burned Purity too much too close together, it became significantly harder, your body giving out to the stress of it. The same thing happened with your mind for Ever. Her father’s strategy might well succeed; she’d used far too much of her power while training. Her finger twitching grew faster as she realized that.

That meant she needed to slip out of the Undercity, and steal a ship. She gritted her teeth as she realized she didn’t know where to go to exit the Undercity. Her father had always directed their time down here. Okron, she didn’t even know how far below ground she was.

I can fill the hole he left in you, Endowed…

She shivered. The Void never called her by that title. Shaking, she ignored it, and forced herself onward, stepping back onto the street as the dronecopter turned away.

There’s probably an exit nearby. I just need to wander until I find it.

It was a pitiful plan, but it was better than trusting the dark god of Torment. She strode forward, then burst out into a sprint, Purity boosting her muscles. Though running faster took little of the ethereal energy, she still winced as she saw her glow begin to fade. The moment it ran out, she’d likely collapse.

She hit a fork, hesitated for a long moment — too long — then randomly went down the right-hand path. Bunkers lined both sides of the street, thick, squat buildings made of steel, titanium, and occasionally tightly woven carbon fiber pieces. Once, she thought she even passed a building made of pure titrite, though going as fast as she was, she couldn’t tell for sure.

Chills ran down her spine as she raced through the abandoned city, chills even beyond the usual nervous thrill of being chased. This entire place had been constructed during the Wars of Endowment, as a desperate measure to avoid total annihilation. She felt as if she could see the fear of those who had built it in the designs of the buildings. Whatever Oblivion was, it had been powerful.

At some point, she was destined to face it. Why did that terrify her even more than the dronecopters?

I will not betray you, the Void whispered. I told you he would betray you, and I did not lie. I cannot lie, for I see all. You do not have to fight; it is not your fate. Let me love you where he could not. The voice tried to be soft, though even with a lower pitch, it was still harsh. She twitched her finger a little faster.

Suddenly, light blinded her. She tensed as two Eliminators swung around a nearby corner. They, too, tensed as they saw her, lit up with Purity. For a single instant, they both stood, shocked.

Then they snapped into action, raising pistols and sending two poison darts flying toward her. Xanala dodged almost reflexively, her muscles quickened by Purity, then ran with equal speed toward the two Eliminators. She punched one in the gut. He doubled over, and Xanala felt his ribs snap beneath her fist. She batted the other across the head. His helmet and skull both burst apart, and he crumpled.

Xanala froze. She’d just killed him. A single blow to the head, and suddenly she was… a murderer.

In her peripheral, she saw the other Eliminator draw a blade. Panic flooding her again, she kicked him in the pelvis. He went skidding down the stone-paved street, eventually falling still in a heap of broken bones. Whether he was dead or not, she couldn’t tell. Behind her, green mist began pouring from the first man’s mouth, leaking upward through the hole in his helmet until it turned red for an instant, then puffed away.

I just killed a man. Okron, I… I…

Shock overcame her. Her knees trembled, and she could hardly stand, and even though her heart beat fast, even though she was Infused with Purity still, she couldn’t seem to force herself forward.

He told you it would be necessary, a part of her whispered. Or perhaps it was Oblivion. She couldn’t tell, and that, too, terrified her. To survive, one must ensure others do not.

You are weak. You always have been.

Survival. She fixed her attention on that. She needed to survive. Instinct slowly overtook the shock, and she looked up, then cursed.

The dronecopters had all turned in unison, and were speeding toward her. Apparently, though she’d incapacitated both Eliminators, they’d still told their friends her location. To make matters worse, she was running out of Purity. She could try and burn stamina to summon more, but if she did, she worried she’d black out.

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I have the power to save you, Xanala, Oblivion said. You said you would not let them take you, no matter the cost. Right now, the cost is simple.

Burn Void.

She hesitated. She’d barely burned any Void today, meaning she still had plenty of strength. She was also stronger with Void than the other two Powers. It was undoubtedly her best chance.

I can fill the hole he left in you…

“No,” she hissed. Not yet, at least. She’d try Ever instead. Dismissing her Purity, she closed her eyes, Reaching and drawing in the thoughts of the nearby Eliminators. As she’d suspected, they’d been alerted to her presence. There weren’t many of them — at least not compared to the amount of people above in the main city — but with effort, she got herself glowing as brightly as she could.

She paused again. What she had to do next… well, it would be far worse than killing one man.

You are weak, her father said. You always have been.

“You’re wrong,” she whispered.

She raised her hand, then burned Ever, sending a bolt of newly heated plasma flying toward the nearest dronecopter. Her training, in this, served her well — her shot struck home, and one of the vehicle’s four propellers blew apart. The impact immediately sent it spinning through the air and toward the ground, and it exploded as it collided with another nearby copter. Debris rained from the sky, and the flames briefly illuminated the entire city nearby.

Panic, again. That had hardly even taken any Ever. How many people could she kill? Would today end, if not with her own death, with her as a cold killer?

Those who survive only do so because others do not. Something her father said, though she wasn’t sure if Oblivion had been the one to bring it to her remembrance. You either succeed, or you become the victim of another’s success.

She’d disagreed with him, back when he’d first said that. Over the years, though, she’d realized he’d been right. She hadn’t wanted to accept it. She’d wanted to hide instead. Keep things the way they’d been before, as if the world could ever stop changing, as if the way the world had been was even good.

She pursed her lips, deciding. She would make it out of here. No matter how many had to die. Her father might have been right about how cruel the world could be, but he had been wrong about one thing:

Xanala was not weak.

She closed her eyes and Reached for Void.

It came easily, blazing into existence in her chest, and she began to glow. She barely even noticed the rush of emotions required to use it, though she did notice as they fled, pushed away by the presence of Oblivion in her very flesh. The fear, the betrayal, they all puffed out like mist on a hot day. Feeling itself disappeared. For a moment, she exulted in it, letting the power race across her skin, feeling it leak through her eyes, dance through her veins, twist around her heart.

Then Oblivion spoke. Kill them, he whispered. They are weak. You are strong. Show them.

We will prove your father wrong.

She hesitated, just for an instant. But then the Void lashed inward at her mind, mentally pushing her, urging her, tempting her.

And she obeyed.

She threw her hand forward, and as she did, she burned Void, using it to peer into the afterlife itself. Red ribbons of light writhed around her, spirits of the dead, pulled into the physical realm by Xanala’s powers. She waved her other hand, and those spirits coalesced, forming into one, larger spirit in front of Xanala. They screamed, protested, pushed against her, but it did not matter. She had Void. They were hers to command. She mentally pushed them forward, and they slammed into the ground. It glowed red for a moment, though that glow quickly faded. For a single second, there was silence, save for the beating thrum of Oblivion in Xanala’s head.

And then the ground burst upward, Animated by the spirits. Chunks of cement broke apart, then began spinning around a central, larger chunk, forming a vortex of rock at least twenty feet tall. Between the fragments, red spirits whizzed about, commanding the stone — and Xanala commanded those spirits. She willed an order to them.

Destroy the drones. All of them.

Again they screamed, again they protested; burning Void was not an art for the faint of heart. But again they obeyed, powerless to do otherwise. The rock monstrosity hurtled toward the first dronecopter. It swerved to avoid the swirling storm, but it wasn’t nearly fast enough. Stone slammed into the vehicle, and Xanala distinctly felt more spirits popping into existence as all inside died.

She froze, the Void suddenly calming. She’d just… killed, again. Without even realizing that was what she was about to do. The rock storm stopped, Xanala’s will no longer clear to the spirits.

Before she could debate her decision, though, a nearby explosion sent dust flying into the air; one of the dronecopters was trying to hit her. She growled, throwing her hand to the side. The Animated stone flew to that side, smashing into the dronecopter. Men died, and once more, Xanala felt them fading into Torment. She trembled.

What am I doing? I’m supposed to stop this, not cause more of it.

You are not weak, Oblivion reminded her. She closed her eyes, letting him soothe her, then let them flash open again. And this time, she did not give herself the chance to hesitate. She burned all of her Void at once. Another storm of stones rose to her left, a third to her right. A fourth, a fifth, a sixth. The presence of Oblivion surged within her, and she threw her mind outward, sending a spray of rocks rushing toward the drones. Every one of them burst apart, and this time, she felt nothing but sickening glee as the pilots and soldiers and Eliminators inside died. She laughed as the broken shards descended from the sky. Okron, this felt amazing. She’d always been careful with Void before, heeding her father’s warning not to pull in too much. Why had she ever listened to him? This was the power she wanted. That she’d needed all along. She wasn’t weak! She…

The last of her Void faded, and suddenly she was alone again on a cement street. In the dark, in the cold. She fell to her knees with a gasp. Emotion returned, and with it, the warm wash of shame.

Her father had been right. She’d deserved every horrible thing he’d done to her.

They will come for you, Oblivion said. They have armies. You must trust me, if you are to survive. I can move you away. Through Torment. You can go wherever you want…

“No,” she whispered. “I can’t. You killed those men.”

Ah, Xanala. I did nothing. You killed them. And to kill is no sin. You must understand that if you are to survive.

“I don’t want to survive,” she whispered. “Not if it means giving in to you. I want to help others, not… not…”

It was a lie. All she wanted now was to hide. And Oblivion, terrible as he was, was the only way she could get away from this wretched place.

Do what must be done, my servant.

“I am not your servant,” she yelled. The shout echoed against the walls of the Undercity. It sounded so hollow.

Perhaps not. But you will be. Like all before you.

She trembled. Sobbed. Choked.

But there was only one way out.

“One more time,” she hissed. “And then never again. One more time. Then never again. One more time…”

She closed her eyes, and pulled in more Void. She tried to hold back this time, pushing against Oblivion’s temptations, whispering prayers to Okron in her mind.

“One more time. Then never again.”

The temptation grew stronger. She felt more Void rising in her chest. Even more than last time, accompanied by rushes of emotion, half pain, half euphoria.

“One more time,” she whispered. “And then. Never. Again.”

Her skin glowed, and the surrounding air warped. She felt Oblivion’s emotions, somehow, pulsing inside her. He was pleased with this.

“I’m just doing what I have to,” she whispered. “I’m not your servant. Father’s wrong. I don’t deserve this. I’m not your slave!”

Yet even as she spoke, she lost control. Red exploded around her, reality itself fading into an endless sea of crimson mist. All around her, she heard Oblivion laughing, and suddenly, his voice was not soothing, but harsh and metallic.

Oh, Xanala. You were always my slave.

The mist began rushing toward her, leaking into her mouth, her ears, her pores. Agony screamed in her every atom. Fear, raw and unchained, overtook every thought. Most of all, she felt something snapping into place within her emotions. A terror that felt like a chain of liquid steel, writhing into her veins, then solidifying. She struggled against it, but it seemed only to sink in further as she did.

I will enjoy using you, Oblivion said. You were even easier to turn than the others.

Red light flashed again, and Xanala felt herself fall for what seemed like eternity. Then, she struck cold ground, and unconsciousness overtook her.