Sareth's presence drained the warmth from the chamber. The floating soul mirrors trembled, vibrating to some ancient rhythm only the corrupted could hear. His voice—smooth, serpentine—coiled through their minds.
"You've felt it, haven't you, Emilia? The whispers in your bones. The power stirring in your soul. You weren't a girl lost in the forest. You were placed there. Hidden. Buried beneath lies."
Emilia's eyes shimmered, torn between confusion and dread. "No... I escaped you. I wasn't made by you."
Sareth's smile widened. "But you were. You are the culmination of centuries of soulcraft. The first living Vessel of the Eternal Name. We didn't create your soul—we wove it. A thousand lives, braided into one."
Asher stepped forward, blade drawn. "She's not yours."
"Oh, but she is," Sareth murmured, eyes flicking to him. "And so are you, eventually. Everyone breaks. Even the strongest."
A pulse of raw energy exploded outward, shattering the mirrors. Shards of soul-glass scattered across the chamber floor. Emilia collapsed to her knees, clutching her head as a thousand screams—none of them her own—ripped through her mind. Voices of the dead. Memories not hers. Lives she had never lived.
Elira floated to her side, hands glowing with calm soullight. "You are you, Emilia. They gave you the pieces—but you chose how they fit."
Liaen raised a warding shield around the dais. "He's trying to crack her. We end this. Now."
Sareth lifted a hand.
Shadows surged from the walls, taking shape. Dozens of figures emerged—twisted echoes of people, their souls fractured, minds shackled. Soul-husked cultists.
Asher didn't hesitate. "Protect Emilia!"
He charged, blade blazing with righteous fury. Liaen followed, twin daggers flashing, storm sigils trailing through the air. Elira stood her ground, casting a barrier of light that burned brighter with every impact.
Emilia screamed—not in fear, but defiance.
"I won't be your vessel!" she shouted. "I choose who I am!"
The scream became a shockwave. A silver burst of soul energy erupted from her chest, hurling the nearest cultists into the air. The ground split beneath her feet. Her eyes burned white.
Sareth stepped back. "So... you've awakened it."
Emilia rose, power swirling around her. Symbols formed in the air—runes of forgotten language, alive with force. Her voice came layered, like a chorus of selves speaking in harmony.
"I am the end of your chant, Sareth. The silence after your broken name."
She extended her hand.
A beam of pure soullight lanced across the chamber and struck Sareth in the chest, blasting him into the far wall.
Elira dropped to her knees, stunned. "That was... ancient soulweaving."
Asher knelt beside her, panting. "She's not just a vessel. She's something else now."
Emilia turned, her glow dimming, her gaze sharp and clear. "I remember. I wasn't made to be a weapon. I was made to contain one. The Eternal Name—the entity the cult serves—it's sealed inside me."
Liaen stared. "They built you... to carry it?"
Emilia nodded. "And now they want to break me... to set it free."
Asher sheathed his sword. "Then we don't let them. Whatever you were... that's not who you'll be."
Elira smiled through her exhaustion. "You're not a vessel anymore. You're a choice. A voice. A soul of your own."
They left the Tower as dawn pierced the cursed clouds for the first time.
Behind them, the black spire groaned. Cracks split its surface. The whispers faded.
For now.
But ahead, a war waited.
And Emilia had chosen her side.