Chris collapsed onto the floor of the hideout, chest heaving, skin still glowing faintly gold beneath the grime and sweat. The Ember crystal pulsed beside him, no longer hovering, but far from inert. Its heartbeat-like rhythm echoed in the walls of the chamber.
Mira slammed the door shut behind her and dropped the spare lock bars with a loud clank. Her breath came in sharp, angry gasps.
"What. The. Hell. Was that?" she barked.
Chris didn't answer at first. He stared at his hands again—no longer glowing, but still trembling. He flexed his fingers slowly.
"I touched the crystal," he said at last, voice low. "And I saw something."
"You what?!" Mira crouched in front of him, grabbing his wrist. "Do you have a death wish? That thing is made of raw pre-Shattering energy! Ancient Embercore—it could've fried your mind!"
Chris looked up, his brown eyes meeting hers. "Maybe it did. Or maybe it woke me up."
Mira sat back, brushing a streak of black grease off her cheek. Her silver hair was a mess of wires and tension. "You're not making sense, Chris. None of this makes sense. That vault we hit? Triple enchanted. Sealed by Dominion codes. You don't just walk in and take something that old without tripping every sensor in the sky."
Chris pulled his knees to his chest. "It wasn't locked to me."
Mira narrowed her eye. "What do you mean?"
"I mean the security didn't trigger until you touched it. I grabbed it first, and nothing happened. No shock spells, no alarms. But the second you picked it up…"
She frowned. "So it recognizes you."
"Feels more like it's bound to me."
They both fell into a heavy silence. The kind that thickens when the world tilts and you realize you're suddenly standing on a cliff's edge with no map.
Then Chris spoke again, softer this time. "It said something."
"What?"
He looked toward the crystal. "Emberborn. The Heart remembers."
Mira's face went pale. She stood slowly and crossed the room, rummaging through a chest of old Dominion scrolls, scavenged tech-readers, and pre-Shattering data chips. She pulled out a tattered page and laid it on the table.
"Say that again," she said.
Chris did.
Mira pointed to the scroll. It was written in Archaic Common—a dead dialect, but Chris could read just enough. The phrase was there, etched in faded ink beneath a glyph of a flaming eye.
"When fire sleeps and stars forget,One shall rise with the storm in his steps and flame in his soul.The Emberborn shall awaken the Heart."
Mira's voice was a whisper now. "It's one of the oldest prophecies in Dominion history. Most scholars think it's myth. Some say it's code for a weapon. Others… say it's a warning."
Chris stared at the paper, then at the crystal.
"What if it's not a prophecy?" he said. "What if it's a memory?"
Meanwhile…
Far above in the Skyhold Spire, High Inquisitor Vex knelt before a massive obsidian arch.
The arch was not part of the tower—it was the tower. Grown from blackstone older than the Driftlands themselves. Varnak's Gate, they called it. The Dominion's seat of power, and the grave of secrets long buried.
From within the arch, a voice hissed.
"You failed, Vex."
Vex bowed lower. "I did not expect the crystal to choose a vessel. The Emberborn was a legend."
"Legends are truths twisted by time. The boy must not be allowed to awaken the Heart."
"I will retrieve it."
"No. You will send the Seeker."
Vex's breath caught.
"But she is not yet—"
"Send her. Or I will find another who will."
The arch fell silent. Vex rose, the muscles in his jaw clenched like iron.
So the Emberborn had returned.
Back in the Hideout
Chris watched the Ember crystal glow in the dim light. It wasn't just a rock. It was alive in some way. And it knew him.
"Do you remember your parents?" Mira asked suddenly.
Chris blinked. "No. Just flashes. A woman with a bright cloak. A deep voice reading me stories about stars. And fire. Always fire."
Mira nodded slowly. "Then maybe this thing isn't just calling you by fate. Maybe it's calling you by blood."
Chris stood and approached the crystal. Its light pulsed faster as he got closer.
"What are you?" he whispered.
The crystal responded.
It flared bright, then broke—a single shard splitting from the rest and floating toward Chris. It hovered before his chest… and then melted into his skin.
Chris gasped.
For a heartbeat, the world went white. His mind flooded with light, language, and fire. He saw pieces of a world long lost—golden temples, storm dragons, cities floating on light, all burning.
Then he was back.
The glow faded. The Ember crystal was dim again. But Chris was changed.
A mark now burned on his chest—an eight-pointed sun with a hollow core.
Mira's eyes widened. "That's… the symbol of the Emberborn."
Chris turned toward the door, fists clenched, power humming beneath his skin.
"I don't know what's coming," he said. "But I know this: I'm not running anymore."
Mira picked up her gear. "Then let's fight."
And outside, thunder cracked across the sky—no storm in sight.