The wasteland stretched on forever, jagged rocks rising like broken teeth under a violet sky that rumbled with storms. Kael had been walking for what felt like hours, though time itself seemed twisted in this world.
Every step was heavy. The chains clinked softly, their whispers filling his head. Sometimes they begged. Sometimes they cursed. Sometimes they laughed, a hollow, mocking sound that made his skin crawl.
Kael shook his head violently. "Shut up."
The voices didn't stop.
His throat felt dry, even though he hadn't needed food or water since arriving. Still, the emptiness gnawed at him. His old life felt like a fading dream, but the memories were sharp enough to cut—his cramped apartment, bills piling up, endless arguments. He had wanted an escape, but not like this.
Ahead, on the horizon, the fortress rose—black stone veined with red light, its spires clawing at the broken sky. Enormous chains stretched from its walls into the heavens, vanishing into cracks in the firmament.
Kael shivered. That fortress wasn't just a building. It was a prison. A throne. A temple.
[System Directive: Proceed to the Fortress of Chains.]
He gave a bitter laugh. "Of course. Lead the debtor straight into hell."
Still, his legs carried him forward. He had no choice.
By the time he reached the gates, his body ached as though the chains themselves were draining his strength. The massive doors were carved with figures of men, women, and children—all bound in shackles, their stone faces twisted in despair. Their eyes seemed to follow him.
Two armored guards stood there, tall as statues. They wore black steel, chains wrapped across their chests. Their helmets were shaped like snarling beasts, and where their eyes should have been, faint shadows glowed.
Kael slowed, his pulse racing.
The guards moved together, turning their heads toward him. One raised a hand.
"Halt." The voice echoed unnaturally inside the helmet. "Debtor."
Kael froze. "…Debtor?"
The second guard stepped forward. "Your chains mark you. You belong to the Eternal Debt. State your intent."
His mouth went dry. Instinct told him to lie, but the shackles pulsed hot against his skin, warning him. He swallowed hard. "I… I was told to come here. The System brought me."
The guards exchanged a look. Then, in unison, they stepped aside.
"The Fortress awaits. Enter, debtor of souls. Do not falter, or the Shackler will claim you."
Kael clenched his fists and forced himself forward. The gates opened with a groan like ancient bones, and he stepped inside.
The air was colder here. Torches lined the walls, burning with pale, ghostly fire. The smooth floor was scarred with grooves, as though chains had dragged across it for centuries.
But it was the sound that struck him most—chains. Endless chains. Rattling, dragging, echoing from every corridor. The whole fortress seemed alive, breathing iron.
At the heart of the great hall stood a dais. On it rested a throne—broken, jagged, but undeniably regal. And on the throne sat a figure cloaked in shadow.
Kael's chest tightened. He knew that crown of shattered iron.
The figure spoke, voice rumbling deep enough to shake the walls. "So the debtor arrives."
Kael's legs trembled, but he forced himself to look up. "You… you're the one I saw in the wasteland."
"Yes." The figure's ember eyes flared. "I am Malrick, Shackler of Souls. Warden of Deloria. Keeper of the Eternal Debt."
Kael's chains pulsed violently, dragging him to his knees. He gritted his teeth, resisting. "Why me? I didn't choose this! I was just—just trying to live!"
Malrick's hollow laughter filled the chamber. "And you failed. Debts unpaid. Promises broken. A wasted life. Now your soul serves a greater balance."
"Balance?" Kael's voice cracked. "This isn't balance. This is slavery!"
The laughter stopped. The ember eyes narrowed.
"Careful, debtor. Many before you defied the chains. None were seen again."
Kael lowered his head, sweat dripping. Fear clawed at him, but anger burned hotter.
Malrick leaned forward. "But you… you are different. You survived the Shades. Few do."
A crimson screen appeared before Kael:
[New Directive: Initiation Trial][Task: Enter the Hall of Chains. Survive its judgment.][Reward: Soul Ledger access unlocked.]
Kael's breath hitched. "Survive… judgment?"
Malrick's voice was final. "Rise, debtor. Step into the Hall. Prove yourself worthy to bear the chains, or be broken by them."
A heavy door creaked open beside the throne, revealing only darkness.
The chains tugged at Kael, dragging him forward. He stumbled but caught himself, glancing back once. Malrick's ember eyes burned into him. Then he stepped through, and the door sealed shut like closing iron jaws.
Darkness surrounded him. His heart pounded. Then torches lit one by one, revealing a long hall.
Chains hung from the ceiling like iron vines, swaying and whispering. At the far end stood a pedestal, and on it rested a massive black-steel book, its cover veined with crimson light.
Kael's breath shook. "The Soul Ledger…"
He stepped forward. The chains stirred.
[Initiation Trial begins.]
Figures dropped from the shadows—twisted echoes of humans and beasts, all bound in chains, their hollow eyes glowing white.
Kael's stomach sank. Shades. Stronger than before.
The first lunged, swinging a chain like a blade. Kael ducked, his shackles lashing out on instinct. Crimson whips tore through the Shade, and it dissolved to dust, leaving a fragment behind.
But the others were faster. Three attacked at once.
A chain wrapped around his ankle, dragging him down. Pain exploded as claws raked his shoulder. He roared, tearing himself free, his chain slicing through the Shade's grip.
The System chimed coldly:
[Warning: Soul integrity at 92%. Continued combat will reduce host vitality.]
"Shut up!" Kael spat, sweat stinging his eyes.
The Shades circled, hissing, their chains scraping the floor.
Kael forced his fear down. I'm not dying here. Not again. If these chains want my soul, they'll bleed with me first.
His shackles flared bright, shaping into twin crimson blades.
The Shades rushed.
And Kael charged straight into them.