The Watcher moved like smoke with a body. Regal in his presence, monstrous in his silence.
"Kael of Rivenhart," he spoke, voice echoing unnaturally in the chamber. "Bearer of the Crimson Mark. Flameborn of rebellion. You should not exist."
Kael stepped forward, his blade gleaming with a low red hum.
"And yet I do."
The Watcher extended his hand. From the air, a scepter formed—carved of black crystal, its core a swirling ember. The runes along the Vault's walls began to burn brighter, reacting to his presence.
"I am the steward of Sovereign truth," the Watcher intoned. "My charge is to guard what should remain buried… and kill what dares awaken it."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "Then draw your last breath."
The Vault erupted into chaos.
With a flick of the Watcher's scepter, a wall of fire and memory surged toward them. Kael slashed through it with a burst of crimson lightning, cleaving the illusion clean. Darric charged to Kael's flank, but the floor split beneath him, swallowing him into shadow.
"DARRIC!" Lyra shouted, vaulting across to the edge, arrows flying—but they passed through the Watcher like mist.
Isryn flared with violet fire, her form outlined by voidrunes as she unleashed a salvo of hexbolts toward the spectral guardian. They struck true—but his form reknit instantly, as if the vault itself fed his being.
"He's not alive," Isryn hissed. "He's memory, bound to a promise!"
Kael clenched his jaw. "Then let's break it."
He surged forward, his Crimson Blade alight with burning glyphs. As the Watcher raised his scepter to counter, Kael shifted—a flicker-step taught to him by Kaelen—appearing behind the Watcher mid-swing.
"Crimson Breaker!"
A blast of red lightning exploded as Kael's blade struck home, cracking through the Watcher's form with devastating force. The vault screamed in response, its wards flaring.
But the Watcher didn't fall.
Instead, he split—into three mirrored echoes, each wielding different aspects of flame, memory, and void.
"We are the remnants," they spoke as one.
Kael's chest heaved, his aura swirling violently. Lyra leapt to his side, blood dripping from her temple. "Three of him now. You had to go and piss off the ancient ghost, didn't you?"
Kael smirked through the blood. "Wouldn't be the first time."
The companions fought.
Lyra's arrows pinned one copy against a wall, shattering its illusion. Isryn invoked a shadow rift, tearing the second in half. And Kael—Kael met the final one head-on, blade clashing with fire.
The clash echoed like thunder.
Kael's blade locked with the Watcher's ember-scepter—and then Kael's mark flared, searing red.
"Begone," he growled, and drove his blade through the Watcher's heart.
The vault fell silent.
Stone cracked. Glyphs dimmed. The black obelisk pulsed once… then fractured.
A final whisper escaped the fading echo of the Watcher:
"You are not the end. But you carry it."
Kael stood amidst ruin, blood on his sword, sweat on his brow. Darric climbed back up from the chasm with a grin and a broken rib.
"What now?" he asked.
Kael turned to the now-open chamber beyond the obelisk. Inside glimmered something ancient—a map, inscribed in Sovereign flame, pointing toward a realm not marked on any living chart.
Kael smiled faintly. "Now… we find the Oracle."