The war table was round, not for peace — but because no one here trusted anyone else to sit at the head.
Seven guilds had answered the summons.
That was already a miracle.
---
Reya stood first.
She didn't speak with ceremony. The Valkyries Guild didn't believe in that. She wore armor etched with old names and carried a spear that had drawn blood in every quadrant of Ashfield. She was their front, their fire, and their founder.
She gestured to the map between them — a pulsing outline of the known continent, marked in red fractures.
"We have a problem," she said.
---
No one interrupted.
The others listened, but not in silence. Each one came armored not just in steel, but in reputation.
To Reya's right, the silver-cloaked tactician from the Shardwalkers adjusted his gloves and narrowed his eyes at the map.
To her left, the twin leaders of Crimson Verge whispered to each other behind red glass masks.
Near the edge of the table, silent and unimpressed, the war-monk of Verdant Hollow — a bare-chested giant with scars older than the System itself — leaned forward slightly.
And behind them, representing Eclipse Guild, a younger woman with strange cybernetic eyes ran calculations faster than anyone else could think.
Reya spoke again.
"They're called Rifts. They don't announce themselves. They spawn anywhere — city ruins, wildlands, even within guild-claimed territory. No system ping. No quest notice. Just… there."
---
"What happens if you enter one?" asked the Crimson Verge twin on the left, her voice like static through a filter.
Reya's jaw tightened.
"You're sealed in. No party signal. No broadcast."
"And the objective?"
"Varies," Reya said. "Sometimes a fight. Sometimes a puzzle. One had a maze. One had a relic retrieval. They're tailored."
The Shardwalker leaned closer. "Tailored to what?"
"The player," Reya said. "Their path. Their fear. Or something worse."
---
Verdant Hollow's monk finally spoke. Voice like gravel and rust.
"And if they fail?"
Reya didn't flinch.
"The Rift... cracks. Doesn't close. And the thing inside comes out."
The Eclipse Coil rep whispered without raising her head, "We've logged two Cracked Rifts. One required three guild squads to neutralize the breach."
---
The table shifted.
Tension thickened.
"They're not random," Reya said. "They're spreading. And they're escalating. Which means something new is coming."
"Or," the Shardwalker muttered, "something old is waking up."
---
A pause.
Then someone spoke who hadn't yet — a soft voice, almost disinterested. From the far end of the table.
Guildless.
But invited.
The Archivist.
"Do you know what happens when someone finishes one?"
Reya hesitated.
"No. No one who's cleared a Rift has spoken about it. Not in detail. Just... vague."
"Changed?" the Archivist asked.
Reya looked at the map. The cracks. The flickering edges.
"Marked," she said.
---
A new silence fell.
Not from uncertainty.
From recognition.
They had all seen it before.
The look in the eyes of a player who had been somewhere no one else understood.
And come back... different.
---
Far from the war room, over quiet ridgelines and burnt ash valleys…
Kael walked alone.
He didn't know about the meeting. Or the factions. Or the cracks in the world's spine.
He wasn't chasing lore.
He was following the wind.
---
He moved like a shadow now — confident, but not loud. Still carrying Kureha, still checking his breath. Every motion is tested. Every step is part of something larger.
It wasn't about the grind anymore.
It was about readiness.
---
The landscape shifted as he moved east — from jagged ruin to rolling, uneven hills. No enemies. No pings. Just a strange stillness.
Then something caught his eye.
Not a sound.
A shimmer.
Like the air was... folding.
He slowed.
---
At first, he thought it was heat distortion. A mirage off broken stone.
But as he stepped closer, it pulsed — not with sound, but pressure. A heartbeat. Faint.
Kael frowned. Touched the hilt at his side.
The thing in front of him wasn't an item. Or a trap. It didn't glow.
It simply existed.
Like it had always been there.
And he was only now noticing.
---
He circled it.
No quest activated.
No HUD marker.
Nothing.
It wasn't asking.
It was waiting.
---
Kael narrowed his eyes. The pulse was growing now — in his ears. In his bones.
It didn't feel hostile.
But it didn't feel safe, either.
---
He stepped closer.
No prompt appeared.
No warning.
No welcome.
Just a slight shift in the world — and the feeling that if he walked forward, nothing would be the same.
Kael looked around once.
No one is watching.
No voice in his ear.
No System whisper.
He gripped Kureha.
Then walked into the Rift.
---
It swallowed him soundlessly.
The distortion closed behind him like a breath pulled inward — and the hillside was empty again.
Like nothing had ever been there.
---
📍 Unknown Location
🕯 Player: Kael Draven
Status: Isolated
Party Link: Severed
Tracking: Disabled
Override: None
> Rift Status: Active
Objective: ???