The jungle burned with shadows.
The Herald's tendrils lashed across the clearing, tearing trenches into the soil. Ryan's aura blazed hot in his chest, clashing with the shard's pulse. Fire surged through his veins, answering the void's challenge.
He struck, his blade trailing sparks of Emberheart light, severing a tendril mid-swing. It shrieked, dissolving into black smoke.
Lyra's staff flared, radiant barriers forming around them. Kaelin's arrows sang through the air, pinning shadow forms before they could swarm. Theron waded forward, swinging his axe like a storm, cleaving dark masses apart.
But the Herald itself barely moved, standing in the Obelisk's shadow. Its body flickered like a dying flame, yet its presence crushed the air around them.
"You cannot sever what is rootless," it hissed, its voice echoing in Ryan's skull. "The shard in your chest beats with our song. Do you feel it?"
Ryan gritted his teeth. "It's not your song."
The Herald tilted its horned head, smoke curling around it. "Then why does it burn you so?"
The shard's pulse spiked. Ryan staggered, vision swimming. For a moment, he saw fire and ash — cities burning, skies torn by storms of shadow. A war not his own.
Memories, the Herald whispered in his mind. Echoes of the first war. You carry them, even if you do not yet understand.
Ryan roared, breaking free of the vision, aura exploding around him. Flames licked his blade, golden-red. He charged.
The Herald raised its hand, shadows converging into a spear. They met in a clash that shook the clearing.
Ryan's blade burned brighter, cutting through the darkness. The shard in his chest seared like molten iron, feeding his strength. For a heartbeat, he thought he saw the Herald falter — the shadows peeling away, revealing something hollow beneath.
Then Lyra's voice cut through: "Ryan, NOW!"
He thrust forward, driving his blade into the Herald's chest. Light erupted. Shadows screamed. The figure convulsed before shattering into smoke, its form scattering into the Obelisk's runes.
Silence followed.
Ryan dropped to his knees, gasping. The shard's pulse slowed, but didn't quiet. It throbbed, almost… satisfied.
Theron planted his axe into the dirt beside him. "What in all the hells was that?"
Lyra's face was grave. "A Herald. A fragment of void given will. They don't appear without purpose."
Kaelin's voice was tight. "And it wanted him. Not us."
All eyes turned to Ryan.
He clenched his fists, feeling the shard's heat against his chest. "It said… I carry memories. From the first war."
Lyra stepped closer, kneeling by the Obelisk. The runes still pulsed faintly, as though echoing Ryan's heartbeat. "Then it's true. The shard is more than power. It's a vessel. A key."
Ryan frowned. "A key to what?"
She touched the stone, her expression unreadable. "To gates that should never open."
---
They made camp at the edge of the clearing, though no one slept easily. The Obelisk loomed in the dark, its runes glowing faintly like watching eyes.
Ryan sat apart from the others, staring at the shard. Each pulse echoed the Obelisk, a rhythm he couldn't silence. He felt tethered, bound to something vast and terrifying.
Kaelin approached quietly, sitting beside him. She didn't speak at first, just stared at the ruin with him.
Finally, she said, "You scare them. Even Lyra."
Ryan glanced at her, startled. "You too?"
Her lips pressed into a thin line. "I've seen power twist people. I've seen leaders fall because what they carried inside them wasn't their own. You're not there… but the shard pulls at you. We all see it."
Ryan swallowed hard. "I'm still me."
"For now." Her silver eyes softened. "But I'm not blind. Whatever this is, it wants you for a reason. And when that reason comes due…"
She didn't finish. She didn't need to.
Ryan looked down at his hands, flames flickering faintly in his aura. He wanted to believe he was in control. But the whispers still echoed in his mind.
Child of twin blood. You are the spark.
---
Morning came gray and heavy. They approached the Obelisk again, Lyra leading.
"This ruin," she said, "isn't just a monument. It's a remnant of the first war — when the void first breached our world. The Obelisks were their anchors. Gates." She ran her fingers over the runes. "Most were destroyed. But this one survived. Barely."
Ryan felt the shard thrum harder as she spoke. "And now it's waking up again."
Lyra nodded. "Because of the shard you carry."
Silence pressed in. The truth hung heavy between them.
Theron finally broke it. "So what now? We smash it to rubble?"
Lyra shook her head. "We can't. Destroying it recklessly might tear the rift wider. No… we seal it. And to do that, we need resonance." Her eyes turned to Ryan. "Your resonance."
Ryan blinked. "You want me to… connect with it?"
Kaelin's hand went to her bow. "That's madness. If he links with that thing, it could consume him."
Lyra's tone was firm. "Or it could lock it away for centuries more."
Ryan's chest tightened. The shard's pulse grew faster, almost eager. He remembered the Herald's words. Return it… or burn with it.
Maybe this was what it meant.
He looked at his friends — Lyra's determination, Theron's wary silence, Kaelin's guarded fear. Then at the Obelisk, looming like a wound in the earth.
"Alright," Ryan said, stepping forward. "Let's find out what it wants from me."
He pressed his hand to the stone.
The world shattered.
---
Visions engulfed him. Flames and shadow, armies clashing beneath broken skies. He saw titans of fire and beasts of void, locked in endless war. He saw gates tearing open, worlds colliding. And in the heart of it — a figure. A warrior crowned in both flame and fang, holding twin blades that burned brighter than suns.
The shard pulsed in his chest. The warrior turned — and Ryan realized, with cold shock, the face was his.
The vision ended in fire.
Ryan staggered back, gasping. The Obelisk's runes dimmed, then went dark, sealed by the shard's resonance.
But its whispers lingered.
You are not the first. You will not be the last.