In the days following Kiyan’s ghost broadcast, Sera Voss and Elara moved their operations to a secure, abandoned lighthouse along the storm-battered northern coast of Riven. The sheer distance from Aethelgard offered protection, and the powerful, ancient beacon structure provided a stable anchor for Elara's exotic receivers.

  ?Sera paced the circular room, the scent of salt and ozone heavy in the air, while Elara was consumed by her consoles. The stress of the past week had settled into a grim, focused energy.

  ?“Vane is three days ahead of us, minimum,” Sera stated, reloading the power cell on her crossbow. “We need a jump point. Where is the Architects’ Gate?”

  ?Elara ran her fingers over a holographic projection—a dizzying, unstable cloud of geometric shapes. This was the fading energy signature Kiyan had provided, cross-referenced with the Black Atlas data stolen from the Vexian Customs House.

  ?“The data on the Gate is scattered, mythic, and terrifying,” Elara said, her voice strained. “The Vexian Imperium was only interested in the Gate as a transit system. But according to the fragmented Aethelgard religious texts and Elora's historical archives… the Gate is not a place, Sera. It’s a sequence.”

  ?Elara brought up a simplified visualization: four distinct, interlinked symbols. “The Architects’ Gate is a network of four specific portals, only one of which can be active at a time. It’s a failsafe system created by a pre-Riven civilization, designed to hide something of immense power by making it accessible only via a long, controlled relay.”

  ?“So Vane didn't jump to his destination,” Sera realized, her eyes widening. “He jumped to the first Gate in the sequence. He still has to complete three more jumps to reach the core.”

  ?“Exactly. And the sequence is not random. It is activated by proximity to massive spiritual energy, like Kiyan’s Astral Dire Wolf soul. Vane knew Kiyan would follow. He is using Kiyan as an unwitting, external timer. Kiyan opens the first Gate, Vane completes the jump to the second, and so on.”

  ?Sera gripped the railing, staring out at the turbulent sea. “Then Kiyan is chasing him across four active portals, and we have to decode the destination of the fourth Gate to intercept him.”

  ?Elara nodded grimly. “The final destination is the ultimate goal of the ancient Architects—a place called the Vault of Creation. It is rumored to hold the source code of Riven’s reality. If Vane reaches the Vault of Creation and feeds it Vexian arcana, he won't just conquer Riven; he will fundamentally rewrite it in the Imperium's image.”

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  ?One hundred feet beneath the swirling violet haze, Kiyan Ren began his hunt. The collapse of the Nexus of the Lost Souls was accelerating; thin, luminous cracks were spider-webbing across the fungal ground, occasionally snapping open to reveal raw, chaotic void beneath. The air was frigid, thin, and metallic.

  ?He moved with the practiced, controlled stillness of the Silent Walk, not to hide, but to conserve energy. His eyes constantly scanned the bizarre environment—the gigantic, decaying fungi stalks were crumbling, showering down dark, heavy spores that could obscure his path or hide a threat.

  ?He was using the residual pulse of the Glyph-Rune embedded in his shelter wall as a divining rod. The rune’s violet energy felt cool and steady, and it throbbed faintly whenever he passed a concentration of the same obsidian material.

  ?The Obsidian Hand is the key. The key must have fragments.

  ?Kiyan descended into a canyon floor formed by two collapsed fungal giants. The area was a toxic marsh, smelling of ammonia and decay. He tracked the energy pulse toward a large, stagnant pool of iridescent, toxic water.

  ?He immediately detected a hostile presence. Sirus Vane had anticipated the Last Wolf's resourcefulness. Floating in the center of the pool, pulsing faintly, was a shard of dark, smooth obsidian—the first Key Fragment. But guarding it was a shimmering, almost invisible Arcane Barrier, a silent alarm Vane had activated on his escape.

  ?Kiyan approached the edge of the pool. The air pressure shifted minutely, indicating the Barrier was not physical, but psychic—designed to stun and drain a Primal Soul upon contact, leaving the victim helpless.

  ?He couldn't rely on the Astral Dire Wolf; the fusion would be instantly targeted by the psychic filter. He had to be purely human.

  ?Kiyan closed his eyes, forcing his breath into the deep, controlled rhythm taught by Thane. He found the seam of the barrier not with his eyes, but with the infinitesimal change in the flow of the arcana around him.

  ?He reached into his pack and pulled out a simple, iron climbing pick—a mundane tool. He coated the pick in a thin, controlled layer of his Primal Infusion—just enough to act as a focused electrical conductor, not enough to trigger the psychic filter.

  ?He threw the pick. It sliced through the air and impacted the invisible barrier. The iron immediately sparked, but the power surged through the iron and into the caustic water, short-circuiting the surrounding psychic energy field for a critical moment.

  ?Kiyan sprinted, leaping over the electrified water and grabbing the Obsidian Key Fragment. The shard was cold, the same color and texture as his necklace. As he grabbed it, the fragment did not feel like metal or stone, but solidified thought.

  ?He turned and bolted back to safety just as the psychic barrier sputtered back to life, the entire pool now humming with lethal, charged energy.

  ?The Key Fragment, now clutched in his hand, gave off a new, faint humming. It had absorbed the psychic charge, and Kiyan suddenly felt a surge of strength—the first true sense of recovery since he entered the Nexus. He had the first piece, and the energy it released would sustain him.

  ?He looked up at the collapsing dimension, his eyes determined. He knew his mission now: collect the remaining fragments of the Obsidian Key and jump through the Architects' Gate before Vane could reach the Vault of Creation.

  Thank you very much for reading and welcome to the journey of the The last wolf