The sea whispered with silver breath as Arka and Kael's vessel cut through the glowing waves. The waters no longer reflected the stars — they generated them, fragments of light rising and fading like living embers.
Kael gripped the rail, her eyes fixed on the shifting horizon. "That can't be land," she murmured. "It's… floating."
Ahead of them, massive shards of crystal and steel hovered over the ocean, held aloft by invisible energy. Each fragment twisted slowly in the air, forming an ascending path toward a colossal vortex of light — the Axis Rift.
The Rift pulsed like a living heart, its light bending reality itself. The clouds circled it in a spiral, time distorting around its edge. Waves rolled backward. The air vibrated with a low hum that neither belonged to this world nor the last.
Arka stood at the bow, his gaze distant, yet focused. "That's where the Source lies."
Kael frowned. "You mean that thing at the center? It looks like it's devouring the sky."
"It's not devouring," Arka replied quietly. "It's rewriting."
The boat trembled. Beneath them, currents shifted — not with water, but gravity. The ocean surface rose into impossible shapes: walls, ridges, and arches of liquid silver that froze midair.
Kael drew her blade. "We're being followed."
From the shadows beneath the frozen waves, dark shapes emerged — sleek, predatory, and faintly metallic. Their bodies shimmered between matter and light.
Arka's eyes narrowed. "Starborn aberrants."
The creatures screeched, their cries cutting through the air like broken glass. One lunged toward the boat. Arka moved faster than sight, summoning a faint glow of the Balance — the Star Wolf's mark flashing across his palm.
A surge of silver energy erupted, disintegrating the creature mid-air.
Kael exhaled. "That's new. Usually you just slash things."
He didn't answer — his focus fixed on the Rift ahead. The closer they sailed, the stronger the resonance became, until the light began to seep into their skin.
Reality bent. The air around them fractured into reflections — fragments of memories, visions, and alternate moments.
Kael flinched as a reflection of herself appeared beside her — eyes dark, armor cracked, holding a gun she'd never used. "Arka… what is this?"
"The Rift is the Axis of all possible outcomes," Arka said. "Every choice, every version of us — it exists here. The Source is what keeps them from collapsing."
The reflection looked at her, lips moving without sound — yet Kael heard it inside her mind.
You will betray him.
Kael stumbled back, gripping the side of the vessel. "That's not me."
Arka turned sharply. "Ignore it. They feed on doubt."
The reflection shattered like glass.
Moments later, their ship reached the first floating shard. It was vast — a fragment of some ancient city, covered in luminous runes and mechanical roots that pulsed with energy.
Arka leapt onto it, his boots echoing against the glowing surface. "This path leads to the center. We climb."
Kael joined him, scanning the horizon. "I count at least seven of these shards between us and the Rift."
Arka nodded. "Then seven trials remain."
As they ascended the second shard, a sudden vibration shook the air — deep and resonant. The world dimmed, and a shape materialized before them: a towering figure cloaked in light and shadow, its form shifting between human and wolf, angel and beast.
Kael's hand went to her weapon. "Another guardian?"
Arka's voice was calm but grim. "No. That's the echo of the Archon."
The being spoke — its voice layered in thousands of tones.
You claim the Balance, but the cycle cannot end.
To touch the Source is to unmake what you are.
Arka stepped forward. "Then let it unmake me. The world doesn't need another god."
The echo raised its hand — and the Rift's power surged.
Reality shattered around them.
Kael screamed as she was pulled into the light, her body dissolving into fragments. Arka reached for her, but the force tore them apart.
In that instant, he saw visions — countless worlds born and destroyed, countless versions of himself standing at the same threshold.
The echo's final words followed him into the void:
The Balance does not choose. It consumes.
And then — silence.
Only the sound of a heartbeat remained.
But it wasn't his.
It was the world's.