The sky did not simply open it was somehow fractured, a shattering sound, just like a thousand sheets of glass breaking underwater all echoed through the air as the tear ripped wider, splitting the clouds into swirling spirals of darkness and white-blue fire. Marcus’s scream cut through the chaos, sharp and raw, before being swallowed by the shift in the heavens.Diana’s knees buckled and the thread beneath her skin burned like a live wire, a cold, invasive pulse that synchronized perfectly with the Weaver’s movements. She felt every surge, every command, every pull as if someone were plucking nerves from inside her chest.“Diana—please stay with me!” Xavier grabbed her shoulders, steadying her as the ground reared beneath them like a living thing. Dust spiraled up in a windless vortex. The rift above them pulsed again, releasing a wave of freezing air so strong it knocked the priestess backward.Aetherion’s body spasmed midair, white light leaking from his eyes in thin, trembling be

The sky above the shattered plateau churned with smoke and drifting embers. The world still trembled from the clash between Isabelle and the relic’s awakening—the relic whose whispers had tried to consume her, the relic Lucien had begged her to embrace, the relic Xavier had nearly died pulling her away from.Now, the ash-thick air was pierced by a sound none of them expected.A horn, so Deep, Metallic and Ancient.Isabelle whipped around, her heartbeat stuttering. “What… what is that?”Xavier stepped in front of her instinctively, blade still wet with the ichor of the fissure-born shadows. “It’s not Velkan. And it’s not the Queen’s Guard.”Lucien, still on one knee as he recovered from the relic’s backlash, looked toward the horizon. His eyes widened—not with awe, but with fear. “No. It can’t be.”The horn sounded again.Then earth-shaking footsteps followed.Dozens. No—hundreds.Figures emerged from the ash. Armored from head to toe in obsidian-plated armor, helmets etched with the

Diana was the first to feel it. A deep, pulling weight spread across her chest, forcing her to kneel as the relic inside her pulsed like a second heart. The air thickened, warmer than the wind around them, humming with an ancient rhythm that didn’t belong to the living world.“Diana!” Xavier caught her shoulders before she hit the stone ground. His voice cracked with fear. “What’s happening now?”“I… don’t know,” she whispered, gripping his arm. “But they’re close. The ones the relic remembers.”A hush swept across the citadel walls as every warrior, priest, seer, and mortal turned toward the horizon.The clouds glowed gold, but not a soft, holy gold, not the gentle shimmer of healing or hope.This light was heavy, this light carried judgement.Victor shielded his eyes. “That’s not Marcus. And it’s not Chronos.”“No,” the Priestess said, stepping forward, her breaths sharp. “That… is something older.”Behind her, Alaric froze. His hand tightened around the blade he forged from Catheri

Diana hit the ground hard, except it wasn’t ground, it was… just nothing.Her knees struck something invisible yet solid, like frozen air shaped into a floor. She gasped, reaching out, but her fingers met only emptiness. No walls. No sky. No horizon. Just an endless black, the kind of darkness that didn’t feel empty but crowded—filled with things watching, waiting, breathing just out of sight.Her heart pounded same as her skin still glowed faintly where the relic pulsed under her collarbone, the only light in this realm of shadows.'Where am I?'She forced her breath steady.Xavier wasn’t here even Marcus wasn’t here, same as Her father wasn’t here.She was all alone.No! Not alone. A soft sound echoed around her, like chimes breaking underwater.Then a voice whispered, “Finally… you have come.”Diana spun around, gripping her staff. The relic’s light sharpened around her like a halo.“Show yourself!” she shouted, her voice echoing in the black.A shape stepped forward—thin, tall, it

The Harbinger just stood at the center of the courtyard just where he had always belonged, for several seconds, nobody moved, it was as if the tear at the Gate were just merely built fo him alone, His presence was not so loud or dramatic but it was worse that that. It was soehow quiet and controlled all certain. Thekimd of presence that had not or did not nee to shout in order to dominate a battlefield.Dia's skin prickle, as a cold rush slid through her blood, she had faced so many Remnants, the weavers, corrupted Lords and Hollow beasts but from everything it felt like none of then had ever made her feel like this. It was as if she was being measured and it was inside her just like it wasn't hers entirely.Marcus had kept his body squarely in front of her, just spear leveled, the momentum coiled in his muscles. “You step one inch closer,” he said in a low growl, “and I will end you.” but the Harbinger merely raised his eyes to Marcus with a faint, and irritated sigh. “We both know t