The morning after escaping the Depthspire, the air felt… strange.
Kael sat near the edge of the cliff that overlooked the vast valley below. The Quantum Anchor hummed faintly at his side, suspended within a containment field powered by enchanted gears and circuitry he had cobbled together the night before. The item wasn't just powerful—it was dangerous. A slip could cause a space rift large enough to erase a village.
But that wasn't what kept him awake.
"They're watching us now," Kael whispered, staring up at the cloudless sky.
Beside him, Lyra sat sharpening her sword. "You've been quiet since we left the labyrinth."
Kael gave a tired smile. "I felt something last night—something… not of this world. Like a gaze crawling over my thoughts."
Orin yawned as he stretched, walking up with half a piece of bread in his mouth. "Maybe it's just the stress of almost being eaten by mirror-wolves and memory illusions."
Kael didn't respond. His fingers tapped rapidly on the metal shell of the anchor. Every pulse, every vibration—it was no longer random. It was coded. A signal… from the gods?
Suddenly, the sky cracked.
Not physically, but visually—as if reality had hiccupped. A shimmer appeared high above, like a ripple in still water.
"What the hell—" Orin said, backing away.
From the ripple descended a golden thread of light, twisting downward and forming a sigil midair—one Kael instantly recognized.
"Mirala's Mark," he said softly. "The goddess who reincarnated me."
The sigil glowed brighter and projected a faint voice:
"Kael Darcan. The third piece awaits. But time bends. The gods grow restless.
Find the Blade of Memory hidden in the city of Ascanta. Only it can unlock the core of your past."
The message vanished, leaving only silence.
Kael rose, his mind racing. "Ascanta… That's a forbidden city now. Ruled by the Church of the Five. They consider all outsiders heretics."
Orin groaned. "Of course they do. Can't we get one easy job?"
Lyra stood, tightening her gauntlets. "Then we'll go as heretics. If they try to stop us, they'll learn what kind of blade I wield."
Kael looked between them, grateful. "Thank you… both of you. I didn't expect to have anyone by my side again."
"Don't get all emotional," Orin said, tossing the rest of his bread at Kael. "You're the one who drags us into messes."
Kael caught it and smiled.
---
Later That Day – On the Road
Their path to Ascanta took them through the Ashen Plains, a cursed land scarred by divine wars. Ruins jutted from the ground like bones, and magical static crackled in the air.
Kael's map showed an ancient rail line that once connected Ascanta to the rest of the continent. If they could reactivate the power nodes, they could ride the rail and bypass the Church's patrols.
But something else was buried in the ruins.
Kael's instincts screamed it.
And far above, in the unseen heavens, Mirala stood at the edge of a divine arena—watching Kael through a translucent pool.
Another god stepped beside her, draped in blue robes and wearing a crown of stars.
"You defy the divine code, Mirala," he said coldly. "You gave a mortal the path to breach worlds."
"I gave him a choice," she replied. "A chance… to protect someone he loved."
"And in doing so, you risk unbalancing fate."
Mirala's eyes hardened. "Then perhaps fate was unworthy of balance."
The god turned away. "Then so be it. Let the trial of Ascanta begin."
The wind across the Ashen Plains was sharp and unnerving. It wasn't the cold that made Kael's skin crawl—it was the unnatural silence. No birds, no beasts, not even the echo of their own footsteps seemed to linger.
"So this is what happens when gods fight," Orin muttered, peering through the twisted remains of steel and stone. "I'd rather take on a dragon than get near one of them."
Kael adjusted the strap on his bag, where the Quantum Anchor pulsed faintly in response to the area's residual divine energy.
"This place is scarred by divine weapons," Kael said, scanning the area with his augmented monocle. "There's enough latent energy in the ground to melt a fortress."
Lyra crouched beside a cracked rail line, brushing ash off a small panel embedded in the ground.
"Is this one of the old arcane control hubs?"
Kael rushed over, examining it. "Yes—rail interface node, Generation Three. If I can power it up, we might get a transport to Ascanta."
He connected a cylindrical device from his satchel into the interface port. A glyph lit up, followed by a low hum.
"Initializing override," Kael muttered, fingers flying. "I need thirty seconds."
"You've got ten," Lyra said, her sword already drawn.
A low growl echoed behind them.
Orin turned slowly. "Oh, for the love of—what now?"
From the mist emerged a creature—tall, hunched, with jagged armor fused to bone. Its mouth split into four segments, revealing rows of glowing teeth. One of the Divine Aberrations. Creatures born from the aftershock of celestial war.
"Run?" Orin suggested.
"No," Kael said, slamming a switch. "Fight. I've rerouted the rail's protective field. If we kill it inside the node radius, the arcane backlash will vaporize it before it regenerates."
Lyra grinned. "Music to my ears."
The creature lunged.
Lyra moved like lightning—slicing across its knee joint and dodging its counterstrike. Orin flanked left, hurling an electrified dagger that stuck in its spine.
"It's adapting!" Kael warned. "You have ten seconds before it becomes immune to current patterns!"
Kael drew his shock rod and leapt into the fray, driving it into the exposed core behind its head. The divine field surged, reacting with the weapon's charge.
The creature let out a horrific screech—its body splitting into shards of radiant ash.
FZZZZZT—
The rail system roared to life. Blue lines traced the track, forming a solid light train of sorts—an ancient mana-rail rebuilt temporarily through Kael's ingenuity.
"Onboard!" he shouted.
They jumped in just as the train began moving.
---
Inside the Mana-Rail
The cabin was faintly transparent. No walls, just flowing light stabilized by a thin veil of shielding magic.
"I hope you're right about this leading to Ascanta," Orin said, flopping onto a seat made of condensed mana.
Kael wiped blood from his arm. "It'll take us under the plains and through the old catacombs. If we stay out of the Church's sight, we'll make it."
Lyra leaned against the side, looking thoughtful.
"You knew that creature was divine-born, didn't you?"
Kael nodded slowly. "It was the same signature I felt… the night I died in the old world."
Silence followed.
Orin looked up. "You think the organization sent it?"
"I think the divine war may not be over," Kael said. "And I think the villains back home… were just pawns of something far older."
The mana-rail glided through a tunnel of light, silent as a ghost. Outside, the world had vanished—only pulsing runes and flickers of half-forgotten magic shimmered against the translucent rail walls.
Kael stared into the glowing void, his reflection barely visible.
"So many answers, so many layers," he muttered. "Why would gods care about me?"
Lyra folded her arms. "You're not just anyone anymore, Kael. You're a mortal who outsmarted fate once. That makes you dangerous."
"And valuable," Orin added, chewing on a mana crystal like it was candy. "Don't forget that part."
Suddenly, the rail lurched.
Kael stood, grabbing the wall for balance. "Something's wrong."
Outside, the light rippled. A shadow moved—not ahead of them, but above.
"Brace yourselves!" he shouted.
A deafening boom shook the train as a massive figure collided with the side. The barrier cracked briefly, letting in a flood of cursed energy. A dark humanoid creature with wings of molten iron and eyes like collapsing stars hovered outside.
"Is that... a fallen seraph?" Lyra whispered.
Kael's heart pounded. "No. That's worse. That's a Soulbound Executioner."
The creature raised a blade etched with prayers twisted by time.
"How does something like that survive this deep?" Orin asked.
"It's not supposed to," Kael replied grimly. "Unless... something brought it here."
The creature plunged the blade toward the rail, and with a thunderous impact, the mana stream fractured. The train flickered violently. Kael's calculations failed to account for such divine interference.
"Emergency exit!" Kael yelled. "Now!"
He slammed a rune panel, and the cabin disassembled into hexagonal platforms. The three of them were launched into the void, tumbling through warped space before crashing onto hard stone.
---
Underground – Forgotten District of Ascanta
They awoke in darkness.
A soft blue glow pulsed from Kael's emergency beacon. His back ached, but he was alive.
"Orin? Lyra?"
"I'm here," Lyra's voice came weakly from nearby. "I landed on something sharp."
"Same," groaned Orin. "Except it was Kael."
Kael smiled faintly. "That explains the pain."
He scanned the surroundings. They were in an old subterranean district—one buried by magic wars and sealed off by the Church. Dust-covered statues lined the walls, many shattered. Strange murals depicted gods giving tools to mortals... and mortals rising too high.
"Looks like we found Ascanta's forgotten roots," Kael said quietly.
"This place feels wrong," Lyra said, gripping her sword. "Like it remembers being betrayed."
Suddenly, a whisper echoed through the chamber.
"You bear the mark of the forbidden."
Kael turned.
From the shadows stepped a woman cloaked in robes of pure dusk, her face veiled. Around her hovered tomes—ancient, locked with chains of starlight.
"I am the Keeper of Echoes," she said. "And you have trespassed into the Hall of Broken Oaths."
Kael instinctively stepped in front of Lyra and Orin as the veiled woman floated closer, the ancient tomes orbiting her like moons around a forgotten star.
"Who are you?" Kael asked, voice calm but cautious. "We didn't come here to trespass—we were forced off the mana-rail."
The woman's voice echoed like a memory torn from time.
"All who stand in this place do so by fate, not chance. This hall chooses whom it reveals itself to. You are here... because the truth demands it."
The blue flame of Kael's beacon flickered, reacting to her presence. Lyra's hand tightened around her sword, but she did not attack. Something about the woman felt sacred—and terribly ancient.
"Truth about what?" Kael asked.
"About the gods you serve... and the goddess who sent you."
The chamber trembled. Murals on the walls glowed faintly, animated by forgotten power. They showed a different story—not of benevolent gods gifting magic to mankind, but of deities who bound humanity with knowledge, only to fear what humans might become.
"She didn't tell you the cost, did she?" the Keeper whispered. "The cost of the world-hopping spell, the reason she made you wait until fifteen..."
Kael's breath caught. "What are you saying?"
"That the spell to return to your world must be fueled not by magic... but by a living soul."
A heavy silence followed.
"A sacrifice," Lyra muttered. "The recipe she promised—it demands a life."
"She left that part out," Kael whispered, his fists clenched.
"Because she knew," the Keeper continued, "you would not agree. You are a genius, Kael. A creator. A savior. But even you cannot escape the truth: the gods do not deal in favors. Only in exchanges."
The Keeper extended her hand. One of the floating tomes descended into her palm.
"Within this book lies the original version of the spell—the true path home, without sacrifice. But it comes with a price of its own... knowledge forbidden by gods, cursed by time."
Orin muttered, "I vote we take it. Forbidden knowledge sounds like the kind of thing we need."
Kael hesitated.
He looked at the mural of a human raising a glowing sphere above a kneeling god. Was this his path—to defy the very divine powers that gave him this second chance?
He reached forward and took the book.
As he did, the entire chamber pulsed with a strange warmth. The other tomes slowly retreated. The Keeper's body shimmered as though dissolving into stars.
"You have chosen the path of rebellion," she said. "Walk it carefully, Reincarnated Genius. For every light you uncover, a shadow will chase you."
And then she vanished.
The chamber darkened again, the glowing murals fading into stone.
"What now?" Orin asked.
Kael stood tall, the book in hand.
"Now... we learn the truth. And then—we find that dungeon."
To be continue...