The corridor stretched endlessly before them — a lattice of shimmering mirrors suspended in nothingness, each one pulsing faintly like the beat of a slumbering heart. The air wasn't air at all, but a current of memories flowing backward through time.
Kael's boots touched the mirrored floor, and ripples spread outward, bending the reflections of light and shadow. Mira walked beside him, her form outlined in gold, her eyes fixed on the shifting glass.
"These aren't illusions," she said softly. "They're living fragments — moments preserved by those who carried the Sigil before you."
Kael nodded, though his gaze remained forward. "Then I'll face them. All of them."
You already are, a whisper replied.
The mirrors quivered. From one of them, a figure stepped forth — a woman clad in ancient armor that shimmered like starlight. Her hair was silver, her eyes the pale blue of dying flame. She carried no weapon, yet the air trembled around her with restrained power.
Mira's breath caught. "That's… Seraphine. The Second Pulsebearer."
Kael remembered fragments — her name had echoed in his previous visions. A being who tried to wield the Sigil to restore the gods and paid the price with her soul.
Seraphine looked at him — or through him. "So the thief of origins has returned," she said, voice calm but layered with sorrow. "Do you seek redemption or dominion this time?"
Kael tightened his grip on his sword. "Neither. I seek understanding."
Her lips curved slightly. "Then understand this — power never asks for understanding. It only demands obedience."
She raised her hand. A thousand runes burst into existence, spiraling through the corridor. Kael barely raised his blade in time as waves of energy slammed into him, pushing him backward. The force wasn't meant to kill — it was meant to test.
Kael countered, channeling his pulse. Gold and violet light surged from his core, meeting her attacks. Sparks flew across mirrored surfaces, each impact revealing flashes of her past — the fall of temples, the screams of gods fading into silence.
Mira called out, "Kael, she's bound to the memory! You can't destroy her — you have to resonate with her!"
Kael steadied his breath, lowering his sword slightly. The memory didn't want a battle. It wanted acknowledgment.
"Seraphine," he said over the storm of light. "You tried to restore balance. You failed because the gods had already forsaken creation. But you still tried."
The runes faltered. Her expression softened, just slightly. "You… remember."
"I do. And I honor it."
The storm ceased. The runes broke apart into motes of light that drifted toward him. She smiled faintly, her form beginning to dissolve.
"Then perhaps… there's hope for you yet."
The motes fused into Kael's chest, and warmth flooded through him — not hunger, but resonance. His pulse deepened, steadied. The Sigil responded, its light expanding across his arm like roots of gold.
Mira exhaled. "That's one echo accepted."
Kael turned. The corridor shimmered, revealing more mirrors. Each now pulsed brighter, awaiting him.
They walked onward. The next mirror cracked open, revealing a battlefield — smoke, ash, and fire. A warrior stood at its center, colossal, his armor blackened and dented, his eyes burning crimson.
Kael recognized him instantly. "Varn, the Fourth Pulsebearer."
Varn turned, his voice booming like thunder. "Another pretender come to claim the pulse! You think mercy will save you?"
Kael didn't answer. Varn's blade crashed against his, the sheer force shaking the corridor. The man fought like fury incarnate — each strike powered by rage, regret, and a refusal to die quietly.
Mira shouted, "Kael, he's rage made manifest — you can't meet him with power!"
Kael took a blow to the shoulder, staggering. Pain seared through him — but in it, he felt clarity. He looked at Varn and spoke, even as blood trickled down his arm.
"You fought because you couldn't bear the silence," Kael said. "You were alone. Every god was gone. Every mortal you protected died cursing your name. You wanted an ending that never came."
Varn froze mid-swing, sword trembling. The fire in his eyes dimmed, replaced by something almost human.
"You… know the sound of it too?"
Kael nodded slowly. "I do."
Varn lowered his weapon. "Then maybe you'll last longer than I did."
His form disintegrated into molten light, merging with Kael's aura. The corridor pulsed again — stronger, steadier.
Kael fell to one knee, panting. Mira caught his shoulder, her aura steadying his. "Two echoes merged. You're stabilizing faster than I expected."
He managed a faint smile. "Feels like remembering pieces of a life I never lived."
They continued. The next echo appeared — not a warrior, but a child. Barefoot, with eyes too ancient for his age. He looked at Kael without fear.
"You killed the sun once," the boy said simply.
Kael froze. "What?"
The boy tilted his head. "You took its light and hid it inside yourself. You called it protection. But you only feared the dark."
Kael's breath caught. The mirrors around him darkened, the light dimming as if in response. The boy's eyes glowed faintly gold.
"Do you still fear it?"
Kael swallowed hard. The silence pressed in. He looked inward — at the hunger, the echoes, the memories. At the thin line between savior and destroyer that had haunted him since awakening.
"No," he whispered finally. "I don't fear it anymore. I'll walk through it."
The boy smiled — small, almost innocent. "Then the sun will rise again."
He vanished, leaving behind a single spark that embedded itself in Kael's heart.
The Vault's hum deepened, resonant and vast. Kael's body glowed faintly, veins tracing patterns of gold and violet. His power didn't feel like fire anymore — it felt alive. Balanced. Whole.
Mira stood beside him, her gaze distant. "You're changing. The Vault is recognizing you not as an intruder… but as a successor."
Kael looked at her, brow furrowed. "Successor?"
"To the Origin," she said softly. "To what once was a god, before even time began."
Kael turned toward the end of the corridor. There, at the farthest point, a single door waited — massive, carved of obsidian and gold, pulsing faintly like a living heart.
He felt the pull instantly — ancient, familiar, terrifying.
"That's the core," Mira whispered. "The final echo. Beyond that door lies the memory of the Origin itself."
Kael's pulse quickened. He reached for the door, but before he could touch it, a faint sound echoed from behind — the faint hum of the Sigil, twisting.
Mira stepped back, alarm flashing in her eyes. "Kael… the Vault is reacting. It knows you're close."
The corridor trembled violently, mirrors cracking, voices rising in an overlapping chorus:
"Do not awaken it."
"Do not become what we were."
"Do not remember
Kael steadied himself, his sword glowing bright. "It's too late."
He pushed the door open. Light and shadow exploded outward, flooding the corridor with divine energy.
Mira shielded her eyes. "Kael!"
He looked back once, eyes glowing gold and violet. "If I fall… remember me as I was."
The light swallowed him whole.