Kieran's feet ached, but he didn't stop. The ruined city stretched before him, jagged towers and fractured streets, all crawling with the remnants of a world gone mad. Every shadow seemed to breathe, every alley whispered of danger.
He had survived the first encounter, yes—but survival was no longer enough. The Ascension Protocol pulsed in his mind, cold and mechanical, reminding him that every choice had consequences. Directive: Survive. Enhance. Ascend.
The crack in the sky—the Eternal Gate—hovered over the city like a wound in reality. Light shimmered and twisted around it, casting long, unnatural shadows. The Gate wasn't just a tear; it was a well of power, leaking energy that warped everything it touched. Beasts mutated, humans transformed, magic surged uncontrollably.
Kieran kept to the shadows, avoiding patrols of rogue Nulls and scavenger gangs, but he had to know more. Knowledge was survival. Knowledge was power.
A faint humming led him to a half-collapsed cathedral, a relic from before the war. Inside, the air was thick with residue—magic, old and potent. The floor was cracked with glowing veins of energy. The runes etched into the walls pulsed faintly, almost like they were alive.
Kieran approached carefully. His fingers brushed over one rune, and a shock ran through him—not painful, but electric, awakening a part of his mind he hadn't known existed. Memories of arcane techniques, combat sequences, and elemental manipulation flickered through him, fragments the Protocol fed him.
[Magic Assimilation: Initiated]
[New Ability: Rune Touch]
[Energy Level: 13%]
He exhaled sharply. Every movement, every touch of a rune, seemed to connect him more deeply to the city and the Gate's energy.
Then he heard it—a low rumble beneath the cathedral. A tremor, subtle at first, then growing. Dust and debris fell from the ceiling as the earth itself seemed to groan.
From the shadows, movement: not human, not entirely beast. Something massive, crawling along the cracks in the ground. Its eyes glowed with a pale light, reflecting the crimson sky above. Kieran's heart surged—he had to be ready.
He touched the nearest rune. A pulse shot through his arm, then exploded outward in a shield of shimmering energy. The creature's approach slowed, its movements faltering. The Protocol had learned from him—and now he from it.
[Combat Readiness: Enhanced]
[Protocol Suggestion: Reconnaissance]
Kieran realized the truth: the Gate wasn't just leaking power. It was alive in its own way, testing him, shaping him. Every step closer felt like it measured his worth, gauging whether he would survive or be consumed.
He needed allies. The rogue mages he had glimpsed on the fringes of the city—survivors hiding in shadows—might help. But trust came at a cost, and he had none to spare.
He stepped toward the exit, leaving the cathedral behind, the shadows crawling like living things. The Gate pulsed above, a constant heartbeat in the sky, and for the first time, Kieran understood: this wasn't just about survival.
It was about becoming something more.
And whatever lurked beyond the Gate, whatever horrors waited in the fractures of reality, would have to deal with him.