The Celestial Wound emerged from hyperspace with a lurch, the stars outside distorting and snapping into position like blades of glass. Before them loomed the dying world of Meritus IX—a planet once vibrant, now drowned by acidic seas and wrapped in black storms that never ended.
Jin Long stood at the observation deck, his fingers tight against the railing. The Genesis Core pulsed at his chest, resonating like a tuning fork against some deep, ancient presence below.
"This is where the first Reality Seed is hidden?" Meiko asked, stepping up beside him.
Yue Lan nodded. "Beneath the sea, in the Abyssal Sanctum. A fortress-temple carved into the bones of a Leviathan god. But we're not the only ones looking for it."
Sensors blared across the ship. In the shadows of the upper clouds, strange figures slithered through the sky—Driftborn, servants of Vael'thyr, composed of collapsing realities and distorted time. They didn't fly; they bent space to reach their destination faster.
Jin Long turned. "Gear up. We move now."
—
The descent pod pierced the ocean like a meteor, cutting through boiling clouds and crashing into sulfurous waves. Lightning danced across the surface as they dropped deeper and deeper into the pressurized black, guided only by the faint pulse of the Seed.
Inside the pod, Elder Ji spoke grimly.
"The Abyssal Sanctum was once a beacon of reality during the Old War. Its walls were made of Truthstone—immune to all Echo corruption. But that doesn't mean what's inside hasn't changed."
A groan echoed through the hull as they passed into the crushing depths. In the distance, impossible silhouettes swam—creatures long forgotten by evolution. Some had eyes that watched thoughts. Others trailed screams from past centuries.
Then they saw it.
The Sanctum.
A massive temple fused to the skeleton of a Leviathan, its ribcage arched high like spires, covered in glowing glyphs and twisting coral. At its heart—floating above a stone dais—was the first Reality Seed.
But standing between them and it…
A figure cloaked in a shimmering veil of distortion.
Its voice spoke before it moved. "He who carries the Genesis Core... has no place in Truth."
It was a Shatter-Monk, once human, now broken by Vael'thyr's touch. Its presence distorted memory, making Jin Long's knees buckle with flashes of lives he'd never lived—deaths he'd never died.
Meiko screamed, blood leaking from her ears. Yue Lan summoned a shield of light, but it cracked.
Jin Long stepped forward, breathing slowly. The Core burned within him, not with rage—but with clarity. He saw the broken thing for what it was—not a warrior, but a warning.
With a cry, he plunged his blade into the abyssal floor, channeling the Core's stabilizing energy. Glyphs on the Sanctum lit up, the Leviathan bones groaning as power surged.
The Shatter-Monk shrieked, its form unraveling like a lie exposed to truth.
Silence returned.
Jin Long approached the dais. The Reality Seed floated there, pulsing like a heartbeat.
When he touched it, a voice—not like the Echoes—spoke in his mind.
"One truth reclaimed. Four remain. But beware… the third has already been taken."
He turned to the others, eyes wide.
"We're not racing the Echoes anymore," he said. "We're behind."
And somewhere beyond space and time, Vael'thyr opened another eye.