The Academy's sky fractured.
With a silent scream, the black dagger-shaped ship broke through the atmosphere like a god tearing through the veil. No sound. No heat. Just pressure—crushing, suffocating pressure that pressed on the minds of every psion in the vicinity.
Russ staggered back as alarms shrieked across the campus.
> [SYSTEM ALERT: UNIDENTIFIED VOID-CLASS ENTITY DETECTED]
[DEFENSE GRID OFFLINE – SOURCE: NULL WAVELENGTH INTERFERENCE]
[SHELTER IN PLACE IMMEDIATELY]
Too late.
The ship hovered above the central spire, casting a shadow so absolute that even light bent away. A hatch opened.
From it descended a figure—slow, deliberate, and wrapped in robes of swirling void matter. Its face was hidden beneath a mask of bone, etched with a single black sigil: ∅
Kael arrived beside Russ, breathing heavily. His usual sarcasm was gone.
"What the hell is that?"
Russ swallowed. "I think… it's a Herald."
Mira's voice cut through their comms. "Confirmed. Scans identify the entity as Harbinger-Class: Obsidian Herald. Same signature that wiped out Orion Gate."
"Orion Gate?" Kael hissed. "That's a Class-1 Citadel! It had a full fleet!"
Russ's eyes remained locked on the figure floating just above the spire. "Not anymore."
The Herald raised its hand.
Reality bent.
Every psion within a ten-mile radius felt it—an unbearable psychic pressure, like a black hole gripping their neurons and twisting.
Russ dropped to one knee, teeth gritted. "System—engage Void Protocol!"
> [VOID PROTOCOL: ENGAGED]
[LIMITER SEALS 1–3: RELEASED]
[USER STATUS: VOIDWALKER THRESHOLD EXCEEDED]
Dark energy erupted from Russ, spiraling around him like a storm. His veins glowed with violet fire, and his shadow split into multiple directions—each one a different possible self. His voice, when he spoke, was overlaid with dozens of echoes.
"Kael. Get Mira. Evacuate the students."
Kael blinked. "You're not actually thinking of fighting that thing, are you?!"
"I'm not thinking. I'm remembering."
The Herald turned its gaze directly at Russ. Despite the mask, he felt its interest—a cold curiosity, like a scientist examining a dangerous specimen.
Then it spoke.
"You are the Echo of Talen."
Its voice was like a thousand whispers layered in perfect harmony.
Russ stood tall. "I'm more than his echo."
The Herald responded by unleashing a psychic lance—faster than thought.
But Russ was already moving.
He blinked through space, reappearing midair above the Herald, hands crackling with void-fire. He struck downward, both palms ablaze.
The explosion lit up the sky.
For a moment, the world held its breath.
Then the Herald emerged from the smoke, untouched.
It raised its arm. The void around it convulsed.
Russ saw the attack coming too late.
A ripple of null energy slammed into him, erasing light, air, and thought. He crashed into the academy courtyard below, leaving a crater and coughing blood.
> [WARNING: INTERNAL DAMAGE – THREE RIBS FRACTURED, VOID STABILITY AT 48%]
Russ pushed himself up, groaning. "System… round two."
The Herald descended slowly, as if disappointed.
"I expected more from the Progenitor's heir."
Russ wiped blood from his mouth. "Good. Lower your expectations."
With a guttural scream, he drew upon the deepest part of the Void inside him—not just power, but memory.
And he saw it.
The original war. The ancient enemy. The truth behind the Heralds.
They weren't invaders.
They were cleaners.
Sent to erase what his father created—and what he had now become.