Elyno had never liked dawn. It was neither night nor day—just a colorless threshold that left everything uncertain. As he stepped beyond the crumbling gates of Ebonreach, he felt that same gray unease settling over him.
Pex followed a few steps behind, the broad haft of his axe slung over one shoulder. Despite the weight of the iron, he moved quietly, as if he'd learned to carry burdens without complaint.
The road north quickly dissolved into dense undergrowth. Broken branches littered the path where other travelers had passed, but today, the trees stood silent. Not even the birds dared to sing.
They walked for nearly an hour without speaking. Elyno didn't mind. Silence had become familiar—a companion as constant as the dagger at his belt.
But as the light filtered through the canopy, a voice threaded through his thoughts. No wind carried it, no sound disturbed the hush. Yet it was there, unmistakable:
"This journey is not what you believe."
His breath caught. He did not look around. He knew he wouldn't see anyone.
Kaos.
"Star Consumption is no mere artifact," the voice continued. "It is a snare. A lure set to draw out those who hunger for power."
Elyno clenched his jaw, willing his heart to slow. Then why didn't you tell me sooner?
The answer was slow in coming, as if Kaos considered whether Elyno deserved it.
"Because I wanted to see what you would do when you thought you were alone."
And now?
"Now, I want to see if you will walk into the trap knowing it is one."
The voice faded, leaving only the ragged sound of Elyno's breathing. He felt Pex's eyes on him but didn't turn.
At last, he started walking again.
They reached a fork in the trail around midday. Pex stopped first, running a hand along the moss-laden stones that bordered the path.
"Something about this place feels…old," he murmured.
Elyno didn't answer. His gaze had fallen on a squat black doorway half-buried under tangled roots. Strange sigils spiraled across its surface—sigils he couldn't read but somehow understood.
He stepped closer. A single line of text, carved deeper than the rest, shimmered as if lit from within.
Only three warriors of the same clan may claim what waits beyond.
Pex read it aloud, voice hushed. For a moment, neither of them moved.
"Glory has the numbers," Pex said quietly. "If you joined, we could find a third. Open this place. Maybe get stronger before we even reach Star Consumption."
Elyno studied the inscription without blinking. Part of him felt the tug of the offer—of belonging, of safety in numbers. But another part recoiled.
"I can't."
Pex turned to face him fully. "Why not? You have no clan. No one to vouch for you. You can't do this alone."
Elyno's voice was softer than he expected. "That's exactly why."
Pex looked away, exhaling. "You're stubborn as hell."
Elyno almost smiled. Almost.
"I don't expect you to understand."
Pex opened his mouth to argue, then closed it again. He rested a hand on the dungeon door, feeling the cold seeping through his glove. Finally, he stepped back.
"If you ever change your mind, the offer stands."
Elyno inclined his head but said nothing more.
They moved on.
By afternoon, the forest grew darker. The trees leaned together like conspirators, hiding whatever might have watched from their shadows. Every now and then, Elyno thought he heard footsteps behind them—soft scuffs just beyond the range of his vision. But when he looked back, there was nothing.
They set camp near dusk. Pex worked at the fire while Elyno sat apart, cleaning his daggers. The whetstone rasped steadily against the steel. He let the rhythm of it fill his thoughts, pushing away the memory of Kaos's voice.
It is a snare, he reminded himself. It doesn't matter. I have to see it for myself.
He had never been able to accept warnings without proof. Maybe that would kill him someday. But he couldn't pretend to be someone else.
When he looked up, Pex was watching him across the flames.
"Do you think it's worth it?" Pex asked. "All this? The fighting, the hunger, the chance you'll die chasing something that might not exist?"
Elyno considered. "I don't know. But I'd rather fail trying than stay where I was."
Pex shook his head, a rueful smile tugging at his mouth. "You really don't have any fear."
"That's not true," Elyno said quietly. "I just have more fear of wasting what little time I have."
Pex didn't argue.
In another part of the forest, Liora stood at the edge of a shallow ravine, her cloak drawn tight against the cold. The warriors of Sett and Glory clustered around her, murmuring in low voices as Gelar spread a map across a stump.
"We're close," Gelar said. "Another day—maybe less."
Liora's eyes drifted across the camp. Lanterns glowed among the trees, throwing shadows across the faces she barely recognized. Even now, so soon after Sergi's death, she felt how fragile their unity was.
She closed her eyes briefly. In the darkness behind her eyelids, she saw Elyno again—standing in the arena, blood on his blade, his expression unreadable.
Why did she think of him? Of all people?
She opened her eyes. This was no time for questions she couldn't answer.
Back at the smaller camp, Elyno rose to stretch his legs. The forest beyond their fire was a wall of darkness. He felt no comfort in it, only the certainty that something waited out there.
When he closed his eyes, he thought he felt Kaos's presence again—watching, measuring, withholding judgment.
I won't be your pawn forever, he thought. Whatever you want from me…I'll decide if you deserve it.
But no voice came to reply.
They broke camp before dawn. Pex said little, but Elyno felt no resentment. Some truths didn't need repeating.
As the sky lightened, they reached a ridge that overlooked a valley blanketed in mist. Far below, he could see the shape of a massive stone ring—collapsed pillars and shattered statues marking the entrance to whatever secret Star Consumption protected.
It looked ancient. And waiting.
Pex drew a slow breath. "This is it."
Elyno didn't respond. He felt the familiar tug—hope, dread, something nameless that had followed him since the day the system panel first appeared.
He didn't know if he would live through this. But he knew he would not turn back.
And when he finally stepped away from the ridge, the look in his eyes was not the look of a man who would remain alone forever.