Chapter XIII
What Responds to Will
— What Was Never Yours
Arkath did not step back.
He took another step forward.
The core in his hand…
throbbed.
Thump.
This time—
stronger.
He did not open his eyes.
Instead, he continued.
Focused.
He extended his will toward those threads.
Toward the connections he had seen.
He did not touch them.
He…
entered them.
And in that same instant—
they responded.
Not like before.
Faster.
Stronger.
Hungrily.
His body trembled.
His grip tightened.
But he did not stop.
In a low voice, he said:
"I'm controlling it…"
But—
that was not true.
Inside—
he was not the one in control.
Something else was.
The energy within the core was not stable.
It was rotating.
Searching.
Comparing.
As if it were asking a single question:
"Is he… the right one?"
Zalrik spoke.
"Arkath… stop."
But Arkath—
did not hear him.
He merged with it even further.
Then—
THUMP!
The pulse exploded inside him.
His eyes opened.
But—
they were no longer the same.
The light within them—
stronger.
Unstable.
He whispered:
"I can see it…"
He looked at the ground.
At the air.
At Zalrik.
Then—
he smiled.
"Everything."
But—
in that very instant—
everything changed.
His body convulsed violently.
He dropped to one knee.
The core—
ignited.
Not with light.
But—
with fractures.
Black cracks spread across its surface.
Growing.
Splitting.
Zalrik immediately shouted:
"That's not control!"
But Arkath—
lifted his head with difficulty.
"I can…"
He stopped.
His voice broke.
"…stop it."
But—
inside—
he was stopping nothing.
He was being rejected.
The power was not his.
It did not recognize him.
It did not accept him.
Yet—
it did not fully reject him either.
Instead—
it was destroying him slowly.
And at that same moment—
the ground shook.
Not in response.
But—
in reaction.
The second core—
trembled violently.
Then—
a larger crack appeared across it.
Zalrik spoke at once.
"If it explodes…"
He stopped.
Then finished:
"This ends here."
Arkath raised his head.
His eyes were unfocused.
Then he said:
"It's not mine…"
Zalrik froze.
"What?"
In a slower voice, Arkath whispered:
"This… isn't mine."
Silence fell.
Then—
THUMP.
But this time—
it was not a pulse.
It was—
a warning.
Arkath's body trembled.
The core in his hand—
cracked further.
THUMP!
The pulse was unnatural.
An alarm.
He collapsed onto one knee.
His hand shaking violently.
His eyes unstable.
In a broken voice, he muttered:
"Not… mine…"
At that moment—
the guardian moved.
With a speed he had never used before.
He rushed forward.
Not to attack.
But—
to seize Arkath's arm.
With immense force.
He threw him away from the core.
Arkath crashed backward.
The connection was severed.
And in the same instant—
the core calmed.
The fractures stopped spreading.
Silence.
Zalrik froze.
He stared at the guardian.
Then slowly said:
"He wasn't trying to kill us…"
Then added:
"…he was trying to stop him."
The guardian stood between them and the core.
Still.
Silent.
As if he were…
protecting it.
Or—
protecting them from it.
But—
before anyone could move—
the air changed.
Suddenly.
The temperature dropped.
Everything stopped.
Even sound.
They froze.
Not from fear.
But—
by force.
Then—
he appeared.
He did not come from afar.
He did not emerge from darkness.
He was simply—
there.
Suddenly.
A man.
Standing among them.
Silent.
His presence alone…
was enough.
Pressure.
Weight.
Authority.
Zalrik stepped back.
For the first time.
In a faint voice, he asked:
"…Who is that?"
No one answered.
Because…
they could not.
The man moved.
Calmly.
He did not look at them.
Did not care.
He walked directly—
toward the core.
And everyone…
watched.
In silence.
He raised his hand.
And in the palm of it—
something appeared.
From nothingness.
A small black box.
No symbols.
No details.
Yet—
unnatural.
He sent it forward.
Slowly.
Toward the core.
It floated through the air.
Without force.
Without motion.
As though it already knew the way.
When it reached the core—
it opened.
Not like a box.
But—
like a mouth.
It swallowed the core.
Quietly.
Without resistance.
Then—
it closed.
And vanished.
Returning to his hand.
As though…
it had never existed.
Absolute silence followed.
The core…
was gone.
The guardian…
stopped moving.
Then—
disappeared.
As though his duty…
had ended.
No one moved.
No one spoke.
Until—
it happened.
A feeling.
Familiar.
Close.
A pressure…
yet different.
Arkath froze.
Slowly, he raised his head.
Looked.
Then—
he saw him.
Standing.
Behind that man.
Calm.
Still.
Exactly as he had been.
Years ago.
Arkath whispered:
"…Father."
The echo of the word had barely faded—
when he moved.
Arkath's father stepped forward once.
He looked directly at Arkath.
Then said in a steady voice:
"We don't have time."
Silence fell.
Heavy.
Then he added:
"You do not understand what is happening."
Arkath clenched his fist.
Took a step forward.
"Then explain—"
His father cut him off.
Calmly.
But firmly.
"Not now."
Arkath froze.
His father continued:
"Every moment you remain here…"
Then finished:
"…makes it worse."
Zalrik glanced around.
He saw no immediate danger.
But his instincts—
were unsettled.
In a low voice, he said:
"Something is moving…"
The father did not respond.
Instead, he stepped closer.
Raised his hand.
He did not touch them.
Yet the air—
collapsed inward.
Zalrik gripped his daggers.
But did not attack.
Because he understood.
This was not an attack.
The father said:
"Hold still."
And in the same instant—
the world vanished.
No darkness.
No light.
Only—
emptiness.
Everything stopped.
Then—
returned violently.
Arkath and Zalrik fell hard onto new ground.
Solid.
Different.
Zalrik inhaled sharply.
Raised his head.
Looked around.
Then muttered:
"…We're somewhere else."
Arkath did not answer.
He was looking around.
Searching.
In every direction.
But—
there was no one there.
Not his father.
Not the man.
Only—
silence.
Weight.
And the feeling…
that what had happened—
was not over.
Arkath clenched the hand that had held the core.
Then whispered:
"…You won't escape this time."
Arkath clenched his hand again—
where the core had been.
Then—
he shouted:
"We let him take the second core!"
His voice echoed through the place.
Sharp.
Angry.
Filled with delayed realization.
He looked around wildly.
As though expecting everything to return.
For the place to reopen.
For them to appear again.
But—
nothing happened.
Silence.
Then a voice came from behind him.
Calm.
Steady.
"Didn't you recognize him?"
Arkath froze.
He turned instantly.
His eyes widened.
"Father…"
He was there.
Standing exactly as before.
But this time—
closer.
Clearer.
Arkath asked:
"Who?"
His father did not answer immediately.
Instead, he looked at him.
Then at Zalrik.
As though waiting.
Zalrik spoke in a low voice:
"The same presence…"
He stopped.
Then continued:
"…the one we felt from the Entity."
Heavy silence followed.
Arkath looked at his father.
Waiting.
Trying to understand.
Or perhaps—
refusing to.
Then his father said—
with terrifying calm:
"It was him."
Arkath froze.
He did not understand.
Or—
did not want to.
Then his father continued:
"He has returned to his true form."
Every sound vanished.
As though the world itself—
had stopped.
Arkath looked down.
Then slowly raised his head again.
This time—
his eyes held more than shock.
They held realization.
In a faint voice, he said:
"…He was never a servant."
His father did not answer.
Because he did not need to.
End of Chapter XIII 🔥