Beyond the gate, the world changed — again.
It wasn't like walking through an ordinary door. It was like falling… and surfacing. A transition with no sound, no wind, no light. Just a fleeting moment of absence — and then, the weight of existence returned, in a new, dense, sacred atmosphere.
The group found themselves standing at the center of a colossal temple. The walls, made of white marble and adorned with Corinthian columns, rose in gentle spirals toward a domed ceiling painted with scenes that defied all logic — celestial wars, impossible creatures, entire worlds contained within flaming eyes.
Massive pillars flanked the central nave, carved with reliefs that pulsed with a faint glow, as if the temple itself were breathing. On the smooth stone floor, spiral symbols were arranged in concentric circles, faintly lit beneath the group's feet. It was vast, silent… imposing. As if ancient gods still dwelled there — or had never left.
A faint scent of incense hung in the air, mingled with the mineral perfume of ancient stone. In the distance, at the far end, a black stone altar glowed under a beam of light that came from nowhere.
"Ezra, what the hell was that?" Nyra was the first to break the silence, her voice echoing between the pillars. "Care to explain?"
"Hey, what's the problem?" Beatriz shot back, already turning to her with a raised eyebrow.
"What's the problem? Look at my hand!" Nyra lifted her pale, delicate palm, pointing indignantly.
Lena, now calmer, arched a brow."What's wrong with your hand?"
"Uh… there should be a cut." Nyra frowned. Her usually impassive face now tinged with a hint of red. She looked at her smooth, flawless skin as if expecting blood to appear out of nowhere.
Ezra sighed, shoulders dropping. "This is why I don't bother explaining everything."
"I heard," murmured Mei Lin beside Ezra, her voice low and precise like a calculated whisper. She stood so close he could feel her breath touch his ear — a sudden warm breeze in the coldness of the stone.
"But I won't tell anyone." She gave a mysterious smile and stepped away with fluid grace, as if walking through time itself. Ezra sighed, more exhausted from the exchange than from the journey.
"IT WORKED!" Before he could process the moment, Bastian wrapped him in a crushing hug, lifting him effortlessly. "I knew you'd do it, Ezra! I knew it!"
The world spun for a moment as Bastian twirled him like a living trophy. Their boots echoed softly across the ancient marble floor, breaking the temple's sacred silence.
Dorian, oblivious to the scene, approached one of the Corinthian columns with a furrowed brow. He gently ran his hand across the carved reliefs.
"What kind of architecture is this? I've never seen or read about anything like it... It's not in any archive."
"Must be from the Old World, don't you think?" replied Rurik, observing the details with the same fascination. "And maybe we should avoid touching anything. We don't know what kind of traps might be hidden."
"Ahem..." Dorian cleared his throat, pulling his hand back as if nothing had happened. "You're right, Rurik. I got carried away. But I can't ignore these features… these columns don't fully match any known school of architecture."
"Thinking too much won't help now, Dorian," Bastian cut in between them, casually draping his arms over their shoulders with his trademark grin. "Relax a bit. We're alive. For now."
Ezra finally managed to catch his breath. His focus, now less dazed, turned to their surroundings.
The temple was vast, with a solemn air that weighed on the shoulders. The white columns, covered in golden inscriptions that swirled in constant motion, supported a domed ceiling painted with scenes of celestial battles and mythological beings whose forms even in that chaotic world, defied logic.
At the center, a staircase led to a dark altar, made of a material resembling onyx. The light inside didn't come from natural sources, but from the very walls, which pulsed softly in bluish hues.
"It's obvious this architecture is from the Old World," said Beatriz, arms crossed naturally, her eyes scanning the ceiling.
"Yes," Edward added, casually leaning against a column. "After all, the Gate of Order has existed since before the Old World fell, hasn't it?"
It was an accepted fact — a fragment of history rooted in collective memory, even if few truly understood it.
Over a thousand years ago, something happened.
A global mutation. A fundamental rupture in the fabric of the world.
No one knew for certain whether it was caused by humanity, by natural forces, or by something even worse — something the ancients themselves had not dared to name.
But the result was undeniable:
the world changed.
And with that change, humanity lost control.
It was subtle at first. A slight imbalance, an anomaly here and there.
But then came the crash — a primordial roar that echoed from the planet's core to the stars.
They say the sky cracked for a moment. That the earth trembled with the pain of something being torn apart from within.
And then, the wave came.
It wasn't made of fire, ice, or wind. It was something deeper — a pulse of pure distortion. Invisible to the eyes, but felt in the soul.
It spread across the world — once… twice… ten times. And with each repetition, something eroded. Each pulse rewrote a piece of reality.
By the time it stopped, the world was no longer the same.
Mountains had collapsed. Oceans had swallowed once-fertile lands. Entire cities vanished into chasms that tore through the crust of the earth. Forests had become hostile — the trees gained awareness, and the soil rejected human seeds.
Ordinary animals mutated unpredictably. Some grew in size and aggression. Others gained intelligence — and hatred.
And then they appeared:
Beings that didn't belong to this world. Creatures of unrecognizable shapes and unknowable intent.
They were called specters, entities, horrors, gods — each culture gave them a name.
But no one could deny: they were foreign to creation.
The sky became unstable. Time, fragmented. Space, a fragile veil.
The laws of physics no longer obeyed as they once had.
"The Great Change," Kael muttered, his smile now more cynical than light. "Or rather... the Great Rescission, as the Archons call it."
"Children's tales," Nyra scoffed, pacing in circles, eyes scanning every crack. "The world changes, monsters rise, humans fall, heroes appear... how many times are we going to repeat this same legend disguised as reality?"
"As many times as it takes," Ezra said, cutting in, his voice firm and bitter. "Especially coming from you. You, who have a Codex."
The mood chilled instantly. Mentioning the Codex was not something thrown around lightly. Everyone there knew that — especially in Ezra's presence.
Kael was the first to speak. "Ezra..."
"I know," he said, raising his hand as if apologizing in advance. "It's unfair. But it's hard not to think about it."
"It's not our fault you don't have one." Nyra turned away the moment the words left her lips. There was tension in her — as if each syllable weighed more than she wanted to admit.
Her lips moved, murmuring something inaudible, as if trying to convince herself she hadn't said anything wrong.
Mei Lin pressed her lips together, eyes cast downward.
Edward clicked his tongue against his teeth, shoulders tensed as if ready to fire off a retort — but for the first time in a long time, he swallowed his words.
The silence was broken not by an explosion, but by something even more powerful: common sense.
"Guys, how about we drop the internal fighting and focus on what matters?"
Bastian stepped forward with a calm maturity, his voice steady as a foundation. It was rare to see him serious, but this time, the usual smile was gone. The moment called for something else.
"Besides," he added, walking up to Ezra and leaning in discreetly, "this is one of the reasons we're here, isn't it? To get you a Codex."
Ezra didn't respond. Not because he was hurt, but because arguing didn't make sense. They were right — he didn't have one.
And that was one of the reasons they were there.
So, without saying a word, he walked toward the center of the temple.
The altar before him was colossal. Made of white marble streaked with black veins like cracks, it rose from the ground like the spine of some forgotten beast. Its edges were covered in dancing inscriptions — in a language so ancient it seemed alive, as if time itself had bent down to write them.
The energy around it… pulsed.
It lived.
Like the heartbeat of a sleeping giant.
And like a silent beacon, it began to draw the others in.
One by one, the group started to approach.
"Do you feel that?" Rurik's voice came deep and low — quieter than usual. He brought a hand to his arm — the hairs were standing on end.
"Yes. I feel it," Beatriz answered plainly. The tension in her eyes revealed she recognized it too — though she didn't say it aloud.
Ezra looked around, confused.
He felt nothing. No shiver, no pressure in the air, no echo within. Only silence.
But as he took in the faces around him, he understood.
They knew what it was. All of them. Except him.
"Vis," Dorian murmured, eyes glinting, adjusting his glasses with a practiced gesture. "And not just a trace. This place is saturated with it."
Ezra clenched his fists. While the others trembled beneath the weight of the Vis, he felt nothing. Once again, he was on the outside.
'But that ends today.' That was all he thought as he let the others take the lead.
"Kael, can you locate the source?" Bastian now slipped naturally into a leadership stance — something that always happened when the group faced danger. Their dynamic was clear: Ezra led ideas. Bastian led survival.
Kael was already a step ahead. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and whispered:
<"Codex.">
Instantly, the dagger in his hand glowed with a pale, pulsing light. Its form began to shift, as if melting the very fabric of reality around it, until it transformed into a small metallic card — sleek, enigmatic.
Intricate runes and ancient inscriptions shimmered on its surface, as if the object itself were breathing.
With the Codex now in hand, Kael locked his gaze forward and, in a solemn tone, recited:
"Thus speaks the Law: Where Vis flows, there echoes the song of its origin."
The moment the words left his mouth, the air around him seemed to ripple. His eyes snapped open — and they glowed with a deep, otherworldly blue.
Through them, Kael saw.
Floating threads danced in the air, like liquid mist in motion. Some red, others green, and some in colors that didn't belong to any visible spectrum — but one line stood out above all: golden.
Vivid. Pulsing.
It wound through the space like a living serpent of smoke, weaving between columns, climbing steps, passing through the altar…
And then, it rose.
Kael slowly turned, eyes following the stream until it reached the ceiling.
There, at the top of the temple, above the altar, a colossal design came into focus — once obscured by ambient light, now illuminated by the Vis itself.
"There." He pointed.
Etched into the ceiling with impossible precision was a golden symbol — a spiral interlaced with three inverted triangles and a sphere at the center. Though none of them understood it, they all felt it: This… was important.
"That's it. That's where it all flows from." Kael's voice sounded distant, as though it echoed from another dimension — resonating with something beyond certainty.
Ezra lifted his eyes to the golden symbol on the ceiling and whispered: "And where does it go?"
"To the altar," Kael replied, his eyes still glowing with that ethereal blue. "Or rather… to something inside the altar."
An uneasy silence spread through the group.
It was Mei Lin who broke it.
"I… have a bad feeling about this."
Her voice was softer than usual, as if she were speaking only to herself.
"Agreed. How about we report this to the Federation?" Edward crossed his arms, glancing around. "I'd rather not die for free."
"And how, exactly, do you plan to leave?" Nyra's voice cut through them like a blade — cold, sharp, without even turning to face them.
The silence fell like an axe.
Mei Lin and Edward exchanged a glance, speechless.
"Perfect," Nyra muttered, clearly satisfied with the lack of response.
Without waiting any longer, she stepped forward and followed Ezra, Kael, and Bastian toward the altar.
"She didn't mean it in a bad way," Rurik tried to ease the tension, his heavy steps echoing behind them.
"Yeah. She's probably just nervous too," Beatriz added calmly, though her hand hovered close to her sword's hilt. "This place is… unsettling."
"I know." Mei Lin took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. "In her place, I—"
CLICK.
But before she could finish the sentence, a sharp sound echoed ahead: the click of something being pressed.
Ezra, Kael, and Bastian had already reached the altar. And their fingers — almost in unison — had touched what they shouldn't have.
The symbol reacted.
A deep sound burst through the chamber. Like the crack of ancient bones, like the breath of a colossal creature awakening after millennia.
BOOM.
The explosion wasn't just noise — it was sensation.
A wave of invisible energy erupted from the altar, blasting out dust, light, and raw power in every direction.
The ground quaked. Columns trembled. A jagged crack snaked along the walls like a living scar.
Time seemed to freeze for a second.
And then…
space tore open.