Chapter 28 – The Spreading Fracture
The sky of Prufen had never known a voice.
But that day, the sky screamed.
The first fracture was not heard, but felt—inside the chest, like bones shattering without touch.
Enver stood in the ruins of Rolland's Prufen.
The broken souls wailed around him, writhing like wet cloth set ablaze from within.
They were not ordinary souls.
Nor were they souls meant to be purified.
They were silenced spirits—dragged into eternal stillness by a system hijacked by Maxcen.
> "This is no purificazione. This is a breathing prison," whispered Enver.
"And you… you forged the key."
Three spirits struck him at once, carrying black auras whose shards wounded even time itself.
His cards ignited—but this time, not to obey.
The "Medusa" card, the one that once bound Xelix's soul, trembled, then turned against its own master.
---
In the corner of Prufen, a spiritual blast echoed, spreading like fire across a dry field.
One by one, the Prufen of other Hellseers began to fracture.
Not from power—they could not even resist. But because the system was connected, and one rot spread like a plague.
🜃 Saelmir felt the fracture from within his inner chamber.
> "What becomes of vision when it turns blind? When whispers become screams?"
He could not rise. His eyes saw no souls. Yet he knew the world had shifted.
And it was not a shift born of purification, but of perversion.
---
Elsewhere, Dorvas gazed at his astral bars, rusting.
Chains once locking thousands of spirits now bent, softening.
He clenched the empty air.
> "A prison without a warden is a hole…
And that hole now bears the name Maxcen."
---
Meanwhile, Enver stood amid the storm.
He did not strike back. Did not cut. He let the attacks crash into him.
The souls tried to swallow him whole, dragging him into chaos.
But within that very chaos, a small light appeared.
From a fracture in the ground, a glimmer of soft pink emerged.
Gentle. Like dew. Like a mother's breath.
> "Morren… are you there?"
The voice did not answer. But the aura was not chaos. It rejected destruction.
For a brief moment, it pushed the souls away.
Enver gripped his splintering cards.
> "You want freedom? Then wound me. But do not blame me if that wound awakens something you cannot control."
---
In the Council Hall, the ceiling began to drip illusory blood.
Elhara clutched her veil of light fabric.
She knew: what spread was not only rebellion of souls… but rebellion of meaning.
> "This fracture lies not only in the system.
But in the very reason why we purify the world."
---
And from the nameless world, Maxcen grinned.
He sat on a throne forged of song.
Zephyr stood before him, eyes hollow.
> "Let them collapse from within.
I need kill no one if their very faith has rotted."
---
Enver stood in the wreckage of Rolland's Prufen.
He looked at the breaking sky, and spoke softly:
> "If this is a trial…
Then I will make this fracture my mirror.
So you see—I am no one's creation. Not even yours, Maxcen."
Blood dripped.
Cards shattered.
Souls screamed.
And the sky of the Hellseer world, for the very first time—broke.
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