The safehouse was too small for the weight of everything that had happened.
I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at my hands as if they belonged to someone else. They didn't look different. They were still the same hands I'd used to turn pages in my physics textbook, to wave goodbye to my mother in the morning, to scratch my head when I was confused. They were ordinary hands.
Except they weren't.
I'd killed something with those hands. Not in a dream, not in a nightmare—in real life. A creature made of shadows and hunger had lunged at me, and my hand had moved, and violet light had exploded from my palm, and now there was nothing left but ash.
I should have felt something. Guilt, maybe. Horror. Relief.
Instead, I just felt hollow.
Lyra sat across from me, her silver hair still slightly disheveled from our earlier struggle. She'd been quiet for the past hour, letting me process. Letting the reality of what happened sink in.
Finally, she spoke.
"Eren."
I looked up.
"What you did tonight—killing that Riftspawn—it's not something to be ashamed of. Those creatures are dangerous. They would have killed you without hesitation. You defended yourself."
"I know," I said. "I know that. But I don't feel..."
"Good?"
I shook my head. "I don't feel anything. I should feel something. Guilt, at least. But I just feel... empty. Like everything that happened last night was a dream. Like I'm still dreaming."
Lyra was quiet for a moment. Then she stood, crossing to the small kitchen counter, and poured me a glass of water. She pressed it into my hands, forcing me to take it.
"That's the Void," she said. "It's numbing you. Dulling your emotions, making it harder for you to feel. The more you use its power, the more it'll try to distance you from your humanity."
I looked at the glass in my hands. The water was clear, cold, ordinary. I wanted to feel grateful for it. I wanted to feel anything.
"How do I stop it?" I asked. "How do I make myself feel normal again?"
"You don't," Lyra said. "Not completely. The Void will always be a part of you now. But you can learn to live with it. To accept it without letting it consume you."
I thought about the figure in my dreams. The faceless thing that wore the shape of a dead man. The voice that whispered promises in my ear.
"And if I can't?" I asked. "If it consumes me anyway?"
Lyra met my eyes. "Then you'll become a monster. And I'll have to put you down myself."
She said it without hesitation. Without emotion. Just a simple statement of fact.
I should have been horrified. I should have been angry.
Instead, I just nodded.
"I understand," I said.
The next morning, Lyra told me we were leaving.
"Leaving where?" I asked, still groggy from another restless night.
"To the Hall," she said. "The Order's headquarters. It's time you met the others."
I blinked. "The others? You mean there are more of you?"
"Of course there are," she said, a hint of amusement in her voice. "I told you about the ranks. Larkers, Supporters, Hunters, Jokers. They're all part of the Order. And they all need to know about you."
"Need to know?"
"You're a Voidwalker," she said. "The first one in five years. That's a big deal, Eren. People are going to have questions. Questions I can't answer."
I thought about that. About meeting strangers who would look at me like I was some kind of miracle—or some kind of threat.
"What if they don't like me?" I asked. "What if they think I'm dangerous?"
Lyra's expression softened. "They'll be wary. That's natural. But they'll also be curious. And if you prove yourself—if you show them that you're willing to learn, to fight, to protect—they'll accept you."
I wasn't so sure. But I didn't have a choice, did I? I couldn't stay in this safehouse forever. Eventually, I'd have to face the world.
"Okay," I said. "Let's go."
The journey to the Hall took half a day.
We traveled through the ruins of Olori, past the buildings that had been reduced to rubble by the Rift's opening. I saw people in the streets—survivors, mostly, their faces blank with shock and grief. They were going through the motions of life, but they weren't really living. The same hollow emptiness I'd felt last night was written on their faces.
"Are they going to be okay?" I asked.
Lyra followed my gaze. "In time. The human mind is remarkably resilient. They'll find a way to make sense of what happened, even if it means telling themselves it was a gas explosion or a freak weather event."
"And the ones who can't forget?"
She was quiet for a moment. "They'll learn to live with it. Or they won't. That's the cruelty of the world, Eren. Some people survive trauma. Some people don't."
I thought about my mother. Was she okay? Was she wondering where I was? Did she think I was dead?
I pushed the thought away. I couldn't afford to dwell on it. Not now.
The Hall was hidden beneath the city.
We descended through a series of tunnels—old maintenance shafts, Lyra explained, retrofitted and reinforced by the Order over centuries. The walls were lined with glowing runes, the same violet symbols that appeared on my arm when the Void surged. They pulsed with a faint light, like veins in a living thing.
"It's beautiful," I murmured, reaching out to touch one.
"Don't," Lyra said sharply. "Those are wards. They'll burn you if you're not attuned to them."
I pulled my hand back. "Sorry."
"Just be careful. The Hall is full of things that can hurt you if you're not paying attention."
I nodded, keeping my hands firmly at my sides.
The Hall itself was enormous.
It was built into a natural cavern, the walls stretching up into darkness so deep I couldn't see the ceiling. Pillars of black stone rose at regular intervals, each one carved with scenes of battle—figures wielding fire and lightning, shadow creatures falling beneath their onslaught, a single figure at the center, surrounded by light that shone brighter than the sun.
"Is that...?" I started.
"The first Voidwalker," Lyra confirmed. "Sera. The founder of the Order. She's the reason we exist."
I stared at the carving. The figure was woman-shaped, her features worn by time, but even faded, there was something powerful about her. Something that made me feel small.
"She was like me," I said. "She had the Void inside her."
"She was the first to wield it," Lyra said. "The first to understand it. The first to use it to protect humanity."
"And she's dead now."
Lyra nodded. "The Void gave her power. And it took her life in return. That's the way it always works."
I was quiet for a moment.
"Will I die the same way?"
"I don't know," Lyra said. "You're the first Voidwalker with Infinity resonance. The rules are different for you. We're still figuring out what that means."
"Comforting," I muttered.
Lyra almost smiled. "I'm not here to comfort you. I'm here to train you. And that starts now."
The Hall was full of people.
They were gathered in the central chamber, a wide open space with a raised platform at its center. They wore uniforms of varying colors and styles—some in robes, some in armor, some in simple tunics. Each of them bore a symbol on their chest: flames, water, wind, earth, lightning, or a strange sigil I didn't recognize.
They turned to look at me when I entered.
I felt their gazes like physical pressure. Curiosity. Suspicion. Fear. A few of them looked at me with open hostility, their hands resting on weapons at their belts.
"Who is that?" someone whispered.
"A Voidwalker? But the last one died—"
"He must be the one from the Codex reading—"
"Shh, he'll hear you—"
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to keep walking. Lyra walked beside me, her expression calm and unreadable. She'd done this before, I realized. She'd faced crowds of strangers, hostile and suspicious, and she'd come out the other side.
"Don't show fear," she murmured, barely loud enough for me to hear. "They'll see it as weakness."
I tried to school my expression into something neutral. I don't know if it worked.
We reached the center of the chamber. There was a woman standing on the platform, her silver hair pulled back into a severe bun, her robes a deep midnight blue. Her eyes were the color of ice, cold and piercing, and when they landed on me, I felt a shiver run down my spine.
"Lyra," she said. "You brought the candidate."
"Lady Aster," Lyra said, bowing slightly. "This is Eren Kalu. The Voidwalker."
Lady Aster. The Leader of the Order. The person Lyra had told me about.
I bowed awkwardly. "It's an honor to meet you."
"Honor," she repeated, her voice flat. "You don't even know what that word means yet."
I blinked. "I—"
"Silence." She raised a hand. "I've heard about you. The Codex reading. The Infinity resonance. Do you have any idea what you've done?"
"No, ma'am," I said honestly. "I don't understand any of this."
She studied me for a long moment. "The Codex has not read Infinity in a hundred years. The last time it did, the world nearly ended. Do you understand the weight of what you carry?"
"I think so," I said. "I can feel it. The Void inside me. It's always there, whispering, trying to get me to—"
"To what?"
I hesitated. "To let it in."
Lady Aster's expression didn't change. "And have you?"
"No," I said. "Not yet."
"But you will," she said. "Sooner or later, you will. The Void always wins. It's patient. It's persistent. And it's been waiting for you."
I wanted to argue. I wanted to tell her she was wrong, that I was stronger than she thought, that I'd find a way to resist.
But the memory of the dream—the field, the figure, the reaching hands—was still fresh in my mind. And I couldn't bring myself to lie.
"Maybe," I said. "Maybe it will win. But I'm not going to make it easy."
Lady Aster's lips curved into something that might have been a smile. "Good. That's the right attitude. Now come."
She turned and walked away, expecting me to follow.
I looked at Lyra. She nodded, and I fell into step behind the Leader.
The Hall was bigger than I thought.
Lady Aster led me through a maze of corridors, past chambers filled with training equipment, libraries of ancient texts, and rooms that hummed with arcane energy. She didn't speak, and I didn't ask questions. I just followed, trying to memorize the path in case I needed it later.
Finally, we arrived at a room at the end of a long hallway. It was circular, the walls covered in the same violet runes I'd seen in the tunnels. In the center of the room was a pedestal, and on the pedestal was a sphere of liquid light.
"This is the Nexus," Lady Aster said. "It's the heart of the Hall. The source of our power."
I stared at the sphere. It pulsed with a rhythm that matched my heartbeat. The hum in my chest grew louder, more insistent, and I had to fight the urge to reach out and touch it.
"What does it do?" I asked.
"It anchors us to the Rift," she said. "It allows us to feel its movements, to predict where and when it will open. Without it, we would be blind."
I thought about the Larkers—the people who could sense the Rift's stirrings. The Nexus was their connection to the Void.
"How does it work?" I asked.
Lady Aster was quiet for a moment. "The Nexus draws on the power of the Voidwalkers. Their energy. Their essence. When a Voidwalker dies, their power returns to the Nexus, strengthening it. Without a Voidwalker to fuel it, the Nexus would fade. And if the Nexus fades, the Order falls."
I felt cold. "So the whole Order depends on the Voidwalkers?"
"On their power," she corrected. "Yes. That's why your arrival is so significant. The Nexus has been weakening for years. We thought—" She paused. "We thought we had lost the last Voidwalker. We thought the Order would fade with him."
"But I came," I said. "I appeared."
"Yes," Lady Aster said. "And now we have a chance. But only if you can learn to control your power. Only if you can survive the journey that lies ahead."
I didn't know what to say to that.
So I just nodded, and kept my eyes on the glowing sphere, and tried not to think about the weight pressing down on my shoulders.
The next few days were a blur of training.
Lyra pushed me harder than ever before—physical exercise to build my endurance, combat drills to improve my reflexes, meditation to strengthen my mind against the Void's influence. I failed more than I succeeded. I fell, I dropped my weapon, I lost focus. But every time I failed, Lyra made me get back up.
"Again," she said. "Again. Again."
And I did.
It was exhausting. It was frustrating. It was the hardest thing I'd ever done.
But slowly, painfully, I started to improve.
I also started to meet the other members of the Order.
There was Kiran, a Larker with eyes that were completely white, who could sense the Rift's movements from miles away. He was quiet, withdrawn, but when he spoke, his words carried weight.
"There's something coming," he said one day, as I was walking past his station. "Something big."
I stopped. "What do you mean?"
"I don't know," he said. "It's just a feeling. A darkness on the horizon. The Rift is stirring. Something's about to happen."
I told Lyra about it later. She looked worried, though she tried to hide it.
"Kiran is rarely wrong," she said. "If he says something's coming, then something's coming. We need to be ready."
"Ready for what?"
"I don't know," she said. "But we'll find out soon enough."
There was also Maya, a Supporter with a gentle smile and warm brown eyes. She spent her days healing the wounded, her hands glowing with a soft golden light that mended broken bones and soothed torn flesh.
"You're the Voidwalker," she said, when I visited her station. "I've heard so much about you."
"I'm not sure that's a good thing," I said.
She laughed. "It's not all bad. Some people are excited. A Voidwalker means the Nexus will be restored. The Order can continue."
"And some people are afraid," I said.
She was quiet for a moment. "Yes. Some people are afraid."
"Are you?"
She looked at me, her expression unreadable. "I'm not afraid of you. I'm afraid of what you might become."
That was honest, at least.
And there was Zed, a Hunter with storm-grey eyes and lightning crackling at his fingertips. He was arrogant, brash, and he made it very clear that he didn't like me.
"A Voidwalker," he said, looking me up and down. "You don't look like much."
"I get that a lot," I said.
He snorted. "I bet you do. Let me guess—you didn't ask for this. You just happened to get chosen by accident."
"Pretty much," I said.
"Great. Another chosen one with no idea what they're doing. Just what we needed."
I felt my temper rising, but I forced myself to keep calm. "I'm trying to learn. That's all I can do."
"Trying isn't enough," Zed said. "When the Rift opens again, when the creatures come, trying won't save anyone. You need to be ready. You need to be strong."
"I know," I said. "That's why I'm training."
He glared at me for a long moment, then turned away. "Fine. But don't expect me to clean up your mess if you screw up."
I watched him walk away, my hands clenched at my sides.
"He's always like that," a voice said.
I turned to find a girl about my age, with dark hair and sharp eyes. She was wearing a Hunter's uniform, but she didn't have the same aggressive energy as Zed.
"Don't take it personally," she said. "He's just jealous."
"Jealous?"
"Of you," she said. "A Voidwalker. Chosen by the Rift. You have more power than he'll ever have, and you didn't even ask for it."
I didn't know what to say to that.
"I'm Mira," she said, offering a hand. "Mira Chen. Hunter. And you are?"
"Eren," I said, shaking her hand. "Eren Kalu. Voidwalker, apparently."
She grinned. "Nice to meet you, Eren. Try not to die, okay? It would be a waste of potential."
I laughed. It was the first time I'd laughed in days.
"Thanks," I said. "I'll try."
The next night, the dream came again.
I was back in the field of black grass, standing under the sky full of eyes. The faceless figure was there, waiting for me.
"Eren," it said. "You've been doing so well. Learning so much."
"I don't want to talk to you," I said.
"But you have to," it said. "I can feel your fear. Your doubt. Your anger. You think you're hiding it, but you're not. You're an open book."
I gritted my teeth. "What do you want?"
"I want to help you," it said. "I want to give you the power you need to protect the ones you love."
"I don't want your help."
"But you do," it said. "You just don't know it yet. Give it time, Eren. You'll come to me eventually. They always do."
I woke up shaking.
Lyra was there, her hand on my shoulder. "Another dream?"
"Yeah," I said, my voice hoarse. "The same one. The field. The figure."
She was quiet for a moment. "It's getting worse."
"I know."
"We need to do something. Before it's too late."
I looked at her. "What do you have in mind?"
She met my eyes. "We're going to fight it."
End of Chapter Four