Chapter 27 – The Abandoned Shell
The sky was not a sky. But a wound. Gaping without end.
In the world created by Maxcen, there were no walls. No ground. Only an ocean of blood, calm as glass—and a violet sky that split all logic. The air did not move, for even time dared not pass here.
Millions of astral beings sang.
Not a song that could be remembered. No melody, no lyrics. Only an echo of loyalty, shaped by fear and submission. Every note was like a chain bound to Maxcen's throne. Tightening. Embracing. Devouring.
At the front line, Zephyr stood.
Silent. Neither singing nor resisting. His gaze was empty—or perhaps too deep to comprehend. He seemed not to be there, yet not gone. Blending. Or disguising.
One being stopped singing.
Its body melted like night losing its sky.
There was no sound. Only Maxcen's stare, needing no words.
> "Silence," whispered one creature, "is a form of betrayal."
---
Elsewhere, in the world that still breathed, dusk descended like a slow wound. Amid thin fog and empty streets, Enver sat in silence. His cards lay open, arranged on a stone table, surrounded by mantras and ancient symbols—meanings long forgotten, even by the council.
One card glowed on its own.
Its light was not gold. Not blue. But black with a red core, like embers forced to breathe again. Enver touched it, and a heavy chill seeped into his bones. It did not belong to Rolland. Yet it felt hauntingly close to himself.
> "Maxcen," Enver murmured, "or a stolen shadow of mine?"
He stood. Taking not all cards—only one. The one that glowed. The one that trembled as if speaking in a language not yet born.
---
Rolland's Prufen stood among the ruins of an old church. It should have been filled with purified souls. But it was empty. The air inside was too clean, too silent—as if life and death had never existed there.
Enver's steps echoed alone.
He knew this place wasn't abandoned. It was hidden.
Rolland appeared before the altar. His body whole. His robe white. But his voice—
> "What does it mean to purify, if all is meant to be forgotten?"
"You purify for peace. I purify for erasure."
Enver did not answer. His eyes fixed on Rolland's.
No soul was there. Only shadow.
> "This is not you," said Enver. "This is Maxcen."
Rolland smiled. But no human lingered behind that smile. What spoke was a shell.
---
Then the souls began to appear. Not in pure form. But fractured. Half a face shattered. Half a body hollow. Their eyes did not look, but gnawed.
> "We were never cleansed..."
"We were only silenced."
They surrounded Enver. The card in his hand trembled, then cracked.
Maxcen's aura seeped through the fracture, touching the Prufen's floor. Twisting every symbol into stains. Soil into ash. Light into lies.
Rolland—or Maxcen—stepped forward.
> "You purify, but never erase. Then let me perfect the void."
"Rolland's body is dead. But his voice is mine."
Enver raised the card high. But did not activate it. He let Maxcen's aura wrap around it. Watching. Feeling. Measuring.
The sky above the Prufen quaked. For a moment, it seemed like dimensional cracks were creeping into the living world.
---
Amid the chaos, one card cracked deeper than the rest. From within, a soft pink glow emerged. Gentle. Not attacking.
The silhouette of a woman.
Her hair long, though untouched by wind. Her eyes closed, yet the whole room saw them.
A faint voice was heard.
> "Enver..."
She said little. Yet Enver's body trembled. He recognized that voice—from dream, from silence, from places where even time refused to enter.
> "Morren..."
The light faded. But the fragrance of another realm lingered. Warm. Peaceful. Like an unfinished embrace.
---
Maxcen stared at Enver from within Rolland's body.
> "You may keep your hope. But hope cannot save you from time."
Enver smiled faintly. He knew—Maxcen could corrupt everything.
But not all.
> "You will not touch her. She is not yours."
He pulled the fractured card close to his chest. Not to strike. But to protect.
> "Mother still exists. In a place beyond your reach. Then I will seek her."
---
At the edge of Maxcen's world, Zephyr still stood. The song continued.
But beneath the Prufen, something stirred.
An old seal trembled. Not broken. But... nearing the promised time.