Consciousness returned in fragments—the cold press of stone against skin, the distant drip of water, and the unmistakable sensation of being cut off from Celestial Qi, as if a vital artery had been severed.
Arin blinked against the oppressive darkness, his vision blurry and his body sluggish. The medallion and Nexus Shard, which had pulsed with reassuring rhythm for so long, were now silent against his chest. He reached for the Eclipse Blade instinctively, but his hand met only empty air. Bound. Suspended.
Chains of crimson energy bound him in place, their glowing links humming faintly with corrupted power. He hung in the center of a cavernous chamber carved from living stone, its walls etched with symbols that pulsed in time with the chains. The air was thick with tension, carrying the faint scent of ozone and something darker—something wrong.
"He's awake," a voice murmured from somewhere nearby. It was soft and reverent, tinged with fear.
Arin's head lolled to the side, his vision clearing just enough to reveal robed figures moving around the chamber like shadows. Crimson light emanated from their robes, casting eerie reflections on the walls. Acolytes. Servants of the Crimson Hand.
At the center of the chamber stood Vespera.
She was radiant and terrible, her crimson jade mask discarded to reveal sharp features that mirrored Liora's so closely it felt like a cruel joke. Her dark hair fell in waves around her shoulders, framing eyes that burned with unnatural intensity—molten gold swirling like liquid fire.
The five keys collected by the Crimson Hand floated above her in a perfect pentagon, their surfaces shimmering with power that distorted reality itself. They pulsed in rhythm with each other—and with something deeper, something ancient that Arin could feel even through his severed connection to Qi.
"You've done well to survive this long," Vespera said smoothly as she approached him, her voice carrying both mockery and admiration. "Azrael's essence has made you resilient—but even you have limits."
Arin tried to speak but found his throat dry and uncooperative. Instead, he glared at her, summoning what defiance he could muster despite his weakened state.
Vespera smiled faintly—an expression devoid of warmth—as she gestured toward the keys hovering above her. "Do you feel it? The Nexus stirring in anticipation? It knows we're close."
She circled him slowly, her movements deliberate and predatory. "I don't need you willing," she continued, her tone almost conversational. "Only alive."
Her words sent a chill through him that had nothing to do with the cold stone beneath him.
"The vessel doesn't need agency," Vespera explained as crimson-robed acolytes began preparing the ritual chamber around them. "It simply needs to exist—to carry Azrael's essence until it can be drawn back to its source."
She gestured toward the pentagon of keys above her head. "When the Nexus opens, Azrael's essence will be drawn back to its origin—leaving your mortal shell empty and ready for a new occupant."
Her smile didn't reach her eyes as she added softly: "My sister thought she could protect the world by hiding you on Earth. Instead, she delivered exactly what I needed—a vessel untainted by Elysion's politics, perfect for my ascension."
Arin's mind raced as he processed her words. She wasn't just trying to access the Nexus—she was trying to become it. To merge herself with its power and rewrite reality according to her vision.
The medallion pulsed faintly against his chest—a weak but defiant rhythm that reminded him he wasn't entirely alone.
You are not broken, came Azrael's voice within his mind—a whisper rather than its usual commanding presence. You are disconnected but not defeated.
How do I fight this? Arin asked silently, desperation creeping into his thoughts.
You are still connected to me, Azrael replied slowly. And through me—to all things.
The realization hit like a spark igniting dry tinder: even severed from Qi by Vespera's chains, he still carried Azrael's essence within him—a connection deeper than any physical bond.
Vespera raised her hands toward the pentagon of keys above her head, her molten eyes blazing brighter as she began chanting in a language older than Elysion itself. The acolytes joined her in unison, their voices creating a resonance that made the very air tremble.
The keys flared brighter now—red for fire, blue for water, green for earth, white for air, black for void—and their combined energy formed a swirling vortex that began expanding outward from their center.
Arin felt its pull immediately—a magnetic force tugging at his very soul as if trying to extract something vital from within him.
Vespera's smile widened as she saw him struggle against it. "It's beautiful," she murmured almost reverently as she watched the vortex grow larger. "The Nexus will be reborn—and I will be its heart."
But even as Arin felt himself weakening under the vortex's pull, he also felt something else stirring within him—a spark of defiance fueled by Azrael's presence.
She seeks control, Azrael whispered within his mind. But control is not balance.
Arin focused on those words—on their meaning—and began channeling what little strength he had left into resisting the vortex's pull.
The medallion flared brighter now—not enough to sever Vespera's chains but enough to create ripples within her carefully constructed ritual space.
Vespera faltered slightly as she felt those ripples—her molten eyes narrowing in annoyance as she turned back toward Arin.
"You're wasting your strength," she said sharply. "The Nexus cannot be denied—it is inevitable."
"Maybe," Arin managed to rasp despite his dry throat. "But so am I."
With those words—and with Azrael's guidance—he focused all his remaining energy on disrupting Vespera's ritual space further.
The medallion flared brighter still—its golden light creating cracks within both Vespera's chains and within her carefully constructed pentagon of keys above her head.
The acolytes faltered now—some stepping back instinctively while others looked toward Vespera nervously as they felt those cracks spreading further throughout ritual space surrounding them…
"Hold formation!" Vespera snapped sharply toward acolytes surrounding ritual space—but even she couldn't entirely hide growing frustration visible now across face illuminated brightly by swirling lights emanating directly from pentagon hovering precariously above head…
Arin seized momentary distraction created by cracks spreading further throughout ritual space surrounding them—and focused entirely on disrupting one particular key hovering precariously above head…
Black—for void…
He knew instinctively this particular key represented both greatest threat posed directly by Vespera herself—and greatest opportunity presented directly by cracks spreading further throughout ritual space surrounding them…
With final burst fueled entirely by defiance burning brightly now alongside presence guiding him steadily throughout chaos swirling violently around them…
He shattered void key completely…