The climb began at dawn.
Kaelen and Vos stood at the foot of the Frostspine Range, a jagged wall of stone and snow that split the continent like a sword embedded in the land. Somewhere beneath it lay the Hollow Temple, hidden in the folds of legend and erased from most maps. Even the locals in the nearest ice-bound village had denied its existence, muttering warnings and crossing themselves when Kaelen asked.
The wind here did not howl. It whispered.
As if afraid to speak too loudly.
Kaelen tightened the furred cloak Vos had salvaged from a downed Enforcer, its dark material streaked with old blood. His boots crunched softly on the frozen path as they began their ascent, winding through narrow passages and under leaning cliffs heavy with icicles.
"You sure about this?" Vos asked, his breath curling in the air.
"No," Kaelen replied. "But it's the only lead we have."
Vos adjusted the strap on his back, where he now carried a scavenged shortblade and a pack of dried supplies. "That Watcher... I don't trust it."
"Neither do I," Kaelen admitted. "But it hasn't lied. Not yet."
They climbed in silence for hours, the terrain becoming less forgiving. At one point they had to navigate a narrow ledge, no wider than a handspan, with a sheer drop into fog below. Kaelen's system tried to provide an assessment of stability, but the interface continued to behave erratically. His usual stat readouts flickered, replaced by strange glyphs and partial symbols.
The only consistent feature was the glowing line etched across the back of his left hand a soft, pulsing thread that tightened whenever they stepped closer to the Hollow Temple.
It was leading him.
Or pulling him.
They reached a plateau just as night began to fall. The clouds above swirled low and thick, reflecting a dim red hue from somewhere behind the mountains.
Vos dropped his pack with a grunt. "We'll freeze if we stay out here."
Kaelen pointed ahead. Nestled into the cliff face was a structure barely visible unless one knew what to look for. Black stone, half-buried in frost, with archways so old they seemed part of the mountain.
"The Temple," he said quietly.
Vos stared. "That's no ruin. That's a tomb."
They approached slowly.
The entrance yawned open like a mouth. No doors. No guards. Only silence.
As they stepped inside, the temperature dropped sharply. The torches they lit did little to dispel the darkness. The walls were smooth and curved, shaped not by hands but by some ancient force. Symbols etched into them glowed faintly as Kaelen passed, responding to the thread on his hand.
He felt watched.
Not by a presence.
By the place itself.
The deeper they went, the more strange it became. There were no signs of time passing no dust, no decay. The floors were clean. The air unmoving.
Vos brushed his fingers across a wall.
"These glyphs… they're changing."
Kaelen turned. The symbols behind them had rearranged. What had once been a flowing script now appeared jagged and broken.
"The temple is alive," he whispered.
They reached a vast circular chamber.
At its center stood a raised platform with a single black obelisk hovering silently above it. Around the room, pillars rose to impossible heights, vanishing into the dark ceiling.
Kaelen stepped onto the platform. The thread on his hand flared.
The obelisk responded.
[ Sovereign-Keeper Activation Imminent ]
[ WARNING: Memory Distortion Field Detected ]
[ Cognitive Anchor Required ]
Vos drew his blade. "That doesn't sound good."
Kaelen took a deep breath and stepped closer to the obelisk.
"System," he said, speaking to whatever remained of his connection, "establish cognitive anchor."
No response.
But then his chest burned not in pain, but like a coal pressed against his heart.
A new mark appeared across his collarbone. A narrow, vertical line intersected by smaller horizontal lines. Like tally marks. It pulsed once, then held.
[ Anchor Established: Personal Vow Detected ]
[ Warning: Foreign Memory Intrusion Possible ]
The chamber trembled.
From the shadows emerged the Sovereign-Keeper.
It did not walk. It drifted.
Tall and shrouded in silver robes that never touched the ground, the Keeper wore a blank porcelain mask with no mouth or eyes. Its hands were long and slender, ending in silver-tipped fingers that seemed to leave streaks of mist as they moved.
Kaelen's system pulsed.
[ Engage or Flee: Sovereign-Keeper Not Bound by Combat Laws ]
[ Mental Invasion Probability: 83% ]
Vos raised his blade. "I don't think it's here to talk."
Kaelen held up a hand. "Wait."
The Keeper floated forward until it was just meters away. Then it raised one hand and touched its own mask.
In that instant, Kaelen's vision shattered.
Not his surroundings. His mind.
He stood in a memory. But it wasn't his.
A boy, kneeling before a silver tribunal. Trembling. Silent.
Kaelen watched from within the boy's mind as the figures declared him a traitor for protecting a sibling marked for deletion. He saw the lash fall. The collar placed. The stripping of his name.
That boy would become Thalanir.
Another vision.
Kaelen himself, but not as he was. Younger. Still naive.
He stood in a study with three others his supposed comrades. Allies who would one day betray him. They laughed. Shared plans. Spoke of revolution.
Kaelen saw the moment it changed when one of them exchanged glances with a stranger cloaked in red. When a hidden signal passed behind his back. When everything began to crumble.
"No," Kaelen whispered.
The Keeper was not attacking him.
It was showing him.
A final memory.
Kaelen in chains, kneeling before a throne made of obsidian.
A voice thundered down at him.
"You were meant to guide the system forward. Not unravel it."
Kaelen lifted his head, defiant.
"You made a system that chose law over people. I chose people."
The memory broke.
Kaelen gasped, staggering back into reality. He nearly collapsed, but Vos caught him.
The Keeper floated silently. Then it reached out.
Not to harm.
To offer.
In its hand appeared a shard.
Smaller than the First Shard, but denser. It glowed with a deep crimson light.
Kaelen hesitated.
"Why… why give me this?"
The Keeper tilted its head, then spoke.
Not with sound.
With memory.
You are not the first to choose people.
But you may be the last.
Kaelen took the shard.
The instant he touched it, pain ripped through his mind.
[ Integration Initiated: Sovereign Fragment ]
[ Trait Unlocked: Echo of Rebellion ]
[ Passive Effect: Memory Anchor Immunity 45% ]
[ System Authority +1 ]
He fell to one knee, panting.
Vos knelt beside him. "Are you alright?"
Kaelen nodded slowly. "Better than before."
The Keeper began to dissolve, its body turning to mist. As it vanished, the chamber began to shake.
Vos stood. "Time to go?"
"Time to run," Kaelen agreed.
They sprinted back through the temple as the stone warped behind them, folding inward. The structure was collapsing, not from damage, but because its purpose was fulfilled. As they burst out into the snow, the entrance sealed shut behind them, leaving no trace of what lay beneath.
Kaelen dropped to one knee in the snow.
He looked down at the new shard in his hand. It pulsed once, then faded from view, absorbed into his body.
"Two down," he muttered.
Vos exhaled heavily. "And how many to go?"
Kaelen's system responded before he could speak.
[ Shard Progress: 2 of 9 Sovereign Shards Reclaimed ]
[ Final Archive Coordinates: Locked ]
[ Unlock Condition: Reclaim 6 Shards + Access Original Vow Site ]
Kaelen stood, brushing snow from his shoulders.
"We're heading east," he said.
"Why?"
"Because I need answers about the Original Vow. And the only person who might know is the one who first enforced it."
Vos frowned. "Who's that?"
Kaelen looked toward the horizon, where the sun barely touched the snow-covered peaks.
"Her name is Serai."
Vos's face paled. "The Witch of the Wastes?"
Kaelen's eyes hardened.
"She's more than that. She was my mentor. And she's the one who told them to betray me."