Void Veins: The Forbidden Ascension

Chapter 35: Uninvited Guest on the First Night

The darkness upon the Forbidden Isle was never truly silent. Wind howled through concrete ruins and rusted iron frameworks, producing shrill, discordant notes—like a giant flute played by unseen hands. The sound followed every step, as though the isle itself whispered a warning.

The body walking among the debris belonged to Lin Ye—yet he held no control over it whatsoever. Their eyes, now glowing deep violet, pierced the dark, scanning every shadow and every fissure in the ground with the sharpness of a predator that has lived for centuries. The gait was steady, measured, purposeful—not flight, but a survey of territory once known.

Deep within his own mind, Lin Ye was confined to a narrowing, dark corner. He saw everything Valerius saw, felt the wind against his skin, felt the steady beat of his heart—yet he could not move a single muscle. It was like being trapped in a cinema seat, forced to watch the protagonist march toward ruin, unable to cry out or intervene.

"Calm yourself," Valerius’s voice resonated within their shared mind, soft yet sickeningly soothing. "I am merely making necessary adjustments. The Void frequency here is highly specific. If we are to endure without losing our sanity, our soul’s resonance must align with this place. It is for both our sakes."

"You lie," Lin Ye retorted silently, his voice trembling with suppressed rage. "This is no mere adjustment. I feel it—your tension, your impatience. You are searching for something. What is hidden on this accursed isle that you could not wait until morning?"

Valerius did not answer. He kept walking, carefully skirting pools of black water that glowed with an unnatural sheen, and thornbushes that curled away as if dreading to be touched. In the distance, through thickening mist, rose the outline of a half-collapsed building—its concrete walls peeling, its roof gone, yet its heavy iron door remaining shut tight, encrusted with thick rust and scored with ancient, cracked sigils of magic not yet fully dead.

Valerius raised a hand. His long fingers brushed the cold metal surface. Violet energy flowed gently—not striking, but seeking, understanding the seal’s pattern, then dissolving it layer by layer. The glowing lines faded, shuddered, then crumbled into drifting dust. The door swung open with a long, agonising screech of metal.

The air inside felt heavier, thick with the scent of ozone mixed with decades-old dried blood. Iron shelves stood in rows, mostly bare and draped in dust—save for a single glass cabinet at the far back, somehow intact and sealed. Inside lay a black leather journal, its golden Phoenix emblem faded by time.

Shen Kui’s journal.

A faint smile touched Lin Ye’s lips—Valerius’s smile. "Ah, old memories. Shen was always diligent, over-meticulous, too emotional… his records lacked scientific rigour, yet they often preserved what mattered."

With an elbow he shattered the glass, then withdrew the journal. The leather cover was brittle, the pages yellowed and damp, much of the ink faded beyond reading. Valerius turned the leaves with preternatural speed, absorbing every line, every number, every sketch.

Lin Ye struggled, focusing his waning strength upon his right index finger. Move! Lift! he commanded inwardly. The body remained still; only the eyes raced across the page.

"Do not waste your strength," Valerius scoffed. "Your consciousness is still unformed, untrained. But fear not—I shall care for this vessel well. After all, should it fail, I suffer most."

Valerius halted abruptly. His eyes narrowed. There it was—a complex arrangement of lines and symbols, a formation. Beneath it, neat small handwriting: “Twin Key Project. One to contain, one to open. Location: Core Chamber — beneath the main tower.”

"Core Chamber…" Valerius murmured, dark comprehension in his tone. "So Shen kept his final secret here. He did not merely hide… he knew I would come. Or at least, he knew something would."

The atmosphere shifted.

Footsteps approached from outside—heavy, slow, arrhythmic, entirely inhuman.

Valerius closed the journal and tucked it away. His face smoothed into impassivity, ready to meet whatever emerged from the night.

Something crawled across the threshold. Its form was human-like, yet its skin was transparent as glass, revealing internal organs pulsing with neon-green light. No nose, no eyes—only a gaping mouth lined with rows of needle-sharp teeth.

A Hollow One—a failed experiment abandoned decades ago, a creature never truly alive and never truly dead. And starving.

It hissed; a stench of decay billowed forth. Valerius did not step back, did not raise a hand. He merely looked at it with disdain, as one might swat a bothersome insect.

"Stand aside," Valerius commanded.

It was no mere speech—it was a mental imperative, reinforced by Void authority, pressing down upon the creature’s instincts. The Hollow One froze, its translucent frame trembling violently. Something far older and far more dangerous stood before it. With a shriek of frustrated rage, it turned and vanished back into the wooded dark.

Valerius smiled faintly. "You see, Lin Ye? True power is not how hard you strike. It is who fears you when you simply stand."

The triumph faded instantly.

Lin Ye felt a searing heat in his chest—the Black Jade hanging around their neck, long cold, was burning. Not warmth—painful heat, as if the stone sought to burn its way free.

Valerius’s smile vanished. His gaze turned toward the shoreline darkness.

"There is someone else here," he whispered, all amusement gone. "And they carry something that feels… hauntingly familiar."