CHAPTER 72 — WHEN THE VEINS BEGIN TO BLEED
The first sign wasn't the noise.
It was the silence.
Not the natural quiet of space or the peaceful hush between stars — this was a suffocating absence, a vacuum that swallowed even thought. Pearl hovered at the edge of the rift where the Warden had vanished, her wings unmoving, the energy around her dimmer now, as if the void itself was trying to hide from what was coming.
Ardyn drifted closer, his eyes scanning the darkness.
"Do you hear that?" he asked quietly.
Pearl shook her head. "That's the problem. I don't."
Around them, the void started to stain.
Thin lines of crimson light crept through the darkness like veins under skin — slow, pulsing, spreading in unnatural patterns across the fabric of reality. They glowed faintly, then stronger, each pulse like the heartbeat of something massive and wounded.
The Vein Gates were not opening yet.
They were bleeding.
Pearl's fragment vibrated so fiercely now it almost burned her palm. The ancient knowledge she had absorbed from the Sunken God-Archives woke inside her again, flooding her mind with visions that weren't entirely her own.
Massive doors forged from collapsed stars. Chains made of broken timelines. Guardians twisted by centuries of waiting.
And at the center…
A throne.
"And something is sitting on it," Pearl whispered.
Ardyn glanced at her sharply. "The Colossus?"
Her gaze darkened. "Something that was never meant to sit."
The crimson veins thickened, branching like roots, and then the void tore open wide.
A gateway formed before them.
Not a doorway of stone or metal — but of living reality. It was circular, spinning slowly, its edges made of writhing energy, like a wound in the universe that refused to heal. On the other side lay a realm of twisted constellations and dying stars, locked in an endless spiral.
The first Vein Gate.
It had awakened.
"You said we should reach it before he does," Ardyn said lowly. "That thing looks like it eats gods."
Pearl's wings flared slightly. "It only eats uncertainty."
She stepped forward.
The moment she crossed the threshold, the universe broke sideways.
Sound twisted.
Light reversed.
Time stumbled.
She and Ardyn were no longer floating in open void — they stood on a vast bridge stretching into endless darkness, formed from interlocking shards of broken realities. Beneath it, storms of cosmic energy churned and howled, and above them, enormous silhouettes drifted like forgotten titans carved from shadow.
"This place…" Ardyn muttered. "It's older than anything I've ever felt."
"It's older than memory," Pearl answered. "This is the corridor between decisions. Every step is a choice that never got taken."
Their feet echoed as they moved forward, each step sending tremors through the bridge. With every stride, the crimson veins stretched along the path, pulsing as if aware of her presence.
Then the gate manifested fully ahead of them.
Massive. Colossal.
Two intertwined structures of dark metal and glowing crimson stone, wrapped in chains of flickering golden energy. Ancient symbols coated its surface — forgotten languages carved by hands that had gone extinct.
At the center of the gates hovered a figure.
Small compared to the gates.
But horribly familiar.
"Another servant?" Ardyn said, lifting his weapon.
Pearl narrowed her eyes. "No… that's worse."
The figure turned.
It looked human.
Young.
But its eyes were wrong — glowing with pale crimson light instead of white or black. Veins of that same energy pulsed along its neck, its temples, its arms.
"You have arrived sooner than anticipated, Pearl," the figure said calmly.
Pearl felt a spike of shock.
"You're…" her voice faltered.
"One of the Moonbound."
The figure smiled sadly. "I was."
Ardyn stiffened. "What does that mean?"
"I was chosen before her," the Moonbound said quietly. "But I failed to hold the balance. And the Warden found me… just like he found so many others."
Pearl felt something twist in her chest. "He corrupted you."
"No," the young warrior replied. "He preserved me. I am the Gate's keeper now. Its voice. Its warning."
The crimson veins along the Gates brightened suddenly.
"You are not meant to pass until the third cycle," the keeper continued. "If you force the Gates… the Veins will rupture."
"And if I don't," Pearl responded coldly, "whole worlds burn because of him."
Silence stretched between them.
Then the keeper lifted a hand slowly.
"Then you must prove to the Gates that you are not here as destruction…"
His eyes locked with hers.
"…but as balance."
The bridge behind them vanished.
The path in front of them dissolved.
Only the Gates and the keeper remained.
"You want to test me," Pearl murmured.
"I want to see if the universe survives you," the keeper replied, voice echoing as power gathered around him.
The space around Pearl warped, refracting like shattered glass. Scenes from possible futures flashed into existence all around her:
— A city in flames, her silhouette towering above the ruins
— The Colossus kneeling… dead
— Ardyn falling into endless dark
— The Warden crowned in light made from her broken power
Each vision struck like cold lightning.
Pearl staggered, her breath hitching.
"Don't listen…" Ardyn growled across the distortion. "These are lies meant to trap you!"
"Not lies," the keeper said.
"Warnings."
The Vein Gate pulsed violently.
Pearl let out a slow breath and straightened.
"Then watch the real future."
Instead of resisting, she embraced the truth inside herself.
She was not flawless.
She was not pure.
But she was not destruction.
Her energy shifted — no longer silver alone, now threaded with faint gold, the balance of evolution and origin combined.
The visions began to crack.
The power around her steadied into something massive, contained, controlled.
She did not raise her voice.
"I am not here to rule," she said softly.
"I am here to prevent the wrong hands from ruling."
The keeper's expression changed.
Concern.
Then awe.
The Vein Gate reacted.
The chains around it rattled violently. Ancient sigils flared with blinding white and deep silver light. The cosmic storm below them recoiled, as if repelled.
"Impossible…" the keeper whispered. "You are doing what they never could…"
The Gates began to open.
Just slightly.
But enough.
A deep sound echoed across dimensions — not a roar, but the groan of something unsealed after eons.
Far away, beyond known space, the Warden turned his head.
And smiled.
"Good," he murmured to himself.
"Open it for me, Pearl…"
Back at the Gates, the keeper stumbled backward as energy poured from the opening.
"You don't understand!" he cried. "If you open them now, others will feel it — ancient things, lost things, things that feed on chaos!"
Pearl's wings burned bright.
"Let them come," she replied.
"I'm tired of waiting for this war to find me."
From deep within the opening Gates… something shifted.
A colossal shadow moved.
Something vast began to stir… and it was waking because of her.
Ardyn stepped beside her, eyes wide. "Pearl… whatever that is… it just noticed you."
Pearl stared into the growing opening.
Her face was calm.
But inside her, the storm had only begun.
"Then it's about to learn my name."
The Vein Gates opened wider.
And the universe, for the first time in eternity…
Held its breath.