Nexus, Abandoned Warehouse - Twisted Iron District

  6 hours after Chapter 2

  Sleep Cycle (the closest thing the Nexus has to "night")

  Kaelen didn't sleep.

  Not that he needed much — one of the few advantages of dying 1,247 times was that his body had learned to function on minimal sleep. Three hours every five days was enough. But even so, he tried to sleep when he could. Because sleeping meant not thinking. And not thinking was a rare luxury.

  But today... today he couldn't.

  He sat on the broken window sill of the warehouse, legs dangling outside, looking at the Nexus below. Even during the "sleep cycle" — a twelve-hour period where the city's artificial lights dimmed to simulate night — the Nexus never really slept. There was always movement. Always life. Always something happening.

  Like him.

  800 years, he thought, lighting a cigarette. Not normal tobacco — that had stopped working in life 89. This was Spectral Smoke, imported from the Ethereal Plane. Smoke that burned thoughts instead of lungs. Illegal in 47 dimensions. Perfect.

  He inhaled deeply, feeling the familiar burn spreading through his mind. Memories began to blur at the edges. Good. He had too many memories today. Memories of the Portal. Of the voice. Of the offer.

  Come and be whole.

  "Wholeness," he murmured to the synthetic night, exhaling purple smoke. "What a joke."

  "Talking to yourself again?"

  Kaelen didn't turn. Didn't need to. He knew that voice better than his own. "Thought you'd left."

  Lyra materialized beside him — literally. Her body formed from necrotic mist, solidifying into flesh and bone in three seconds. Useful trick. She sat on the sill next to him, black dress adjusting gracefully.

  "I was going to," she said. "But then I thought: 'Kaelen just faced an Abyssal Portal that specifically called him a Fragment, offered him wholeness, and almost sucked him into another dimension. He's probably having a quiet, relaxing night.'" Pause. "So I decided to check."

  "I'm fine."

  "You're smoking Spectral Smoke."

  "I'm relaxed."

  "You only smoke that when you're having bad PTSD." Lyra took the cigarette from his hand, took a long drag — her dead lungs didn't care about poison — and returned it. "Which life is haunting you today?"

  Kaelen was silent for a long moment, watching the purple smoke dissipate into the air. "347."

  "The dragon one."

  "The dragon one," he confirmed. "When I got the Tear." He looked at the sword materialized beside him, blade reflecting the Nexus's distorted lights. "Took three years to find the last true dragon. Two more years to earn his trust. And then..."

  "And then you killed him."

  "Needed the sword. It was the only way to defeat the Demon Lord devastating Valendor in that era." Deep drag. "Saved millions. Killed my friend to do it."

  "He understood. You said he understood."

  "Understanding doesn't make it easier." Kaelen looked at his hands — still seeing iridescent scales stained with blood, even 500 years later. "Sometimes I wonder... of all the lives, all the choices... how many were truly necessary? How many did I make because they were right, and how many did I make because I'd stopped looking for alternatives?"

  Lyra didn't answer immediately. Just sat beside him, shoulder touching his. Silent presence. Anchor.

  "The girl woke up," she said finally.

  That pulled Kaelen from his memories. "And?"

  "Panicked when she saw I was there. Screamed. Cried. Tried to run despite being weak." Lyra sighed. "I calmed her. Magically. Didn't have a choice."

  "Sleep spell?"

  "Peace spell. Different. Less intrusive. She's still conscious of everything, just... not terrified." Lyra looked back at the corner where the elf girl now slept naturally, curled up in a tattered blanket. "She asked about you."

  "About me? Why?"

  "Because you're the last thing she remembers before losing consciousness. Silver-haired man with strange eyes who cut off her arm." Pause. "She doesn't understand you saved her. She only understands you hurt her."

  Kaelen felt something tighten in his chest. Old, familiar. Guilt. "I'll find an orphanage tomorrow. Good place. One that takes care of traumatized children."

  "Kaelen—"

  "No, Lyra. I'm not keeping her. I can't. You know that."

  "I know that's what you tell yourself." Lyra turned to face him directly. "But I also know that in the 200 years I've known you, you've 'couldn't' stay close to people about fifty times. And yet, here I am. Here's Zharn. Seraphine. Even Vex, in some twisted way."

  "You're different. You're—"

  "Immortal?" She finished the sentence for him. "Powerful? Capable of defending ourselves? Yes, Kaelen. We are. But you know what else we are?" She touched his face, forcing him to look at her. Red eyes piercing his. "People you let in despite swearing you'd never do it again. Because no matter how many times you die, how many times you lose people, how many times you convince yourself it's better to be alone..."

  She leaned in, forehead touching his.

  "...you still care, idiot."

  ---

  They stayed like that for a moment that could have been seconds or minutes — time was fluid in the Nexus, especially during sleep cycle. Finally, Kaelen pulled away, finishing the cigarette and tossing the butt out the window. It disintegrated into purple particles before hitting the ground.

  "The Portal," he said. "The voice. You know what that was?"

  "I have theories."

  "Share them."

  Lyra stood, beginning to pace around the warehouse. When she thought, she moved — old habit from when she was still alive, centuries ago. "Abyssal Portal, but not just Abyssal. You felt it? The energy signature?"

  "I felt something... familiar."

  "Exactly. Because it wasn't just a Portal to the Abyssal Plane. It was a directed Portal. Someone opened that thing specifically to reach you." She stopped, turning. "The voice knew too much. Knew about Fragments. Knew you were one. Called you 'Rejected Fragment'."

  Kaelen stood too, restlessness growing. "Continue."

  "For the last six months, Portals have been collapsing throughout the multiverse. Not randomly — I've checked patterns. They're collapsing in a spiral, converging on the Nexus. And the energy drained from them..." Lyra conjured a necrotic hologram — three-dimensional map of the multiverse with points of light representing Portals. As Kaelen watched, the points began to go dark in a spiral pattern. "Is being channeled somewhere."

  "Where?"

  "I don't know. But I can guess why." She gestured, and the hologram changed, now showing twelve bright points scattered across the multiverse. "Twelve Fragments. You're one. That voice... I bet it was another."

  "Another Fragment?" Kaelen felt his stomach turn. "Trying to force me to reunite with it?"

  "Or worse. Trying to consume you to absorb your power." Lyra dismissed the hologram. "Think, Kaelen. If each Fragment contains a piece of a Primordial God... and if Fragments can merge..."

  "Whoever absorbs all twelve becomes the reborn God." Kaelen finished, voice low. "Absolute power over the multiverse."

  "Exactly. And from the way that voice spoke... it's already awake. Hunting. And now it knows where you are."

  Heavy silence fell over the warehouse.

  Kaelen walked to where the Tear rested, picking it up. The sword sang low at his touch, responding to his dark mood. "So what do you suggest? That I run? Hide? 800 years and I've never run from a fight."

  "I'm not suggesting you run." Lyra approached, voice lowering. "I'm suggesting you prepare. Because if one Fragment has already awakened and is hunting you... the other eleven can't be far behind. And when they all fully awaken, when they all start looking for each other..."

  "War," Kaelen said simply. "War for the right to devour the others and become God."

  "War that will tear the multiverse in half." Lyra nodded. "So yes. Prepare yourself. Gather allies. Learn everything you can about the other Fragments. Because whether you like it or not, you're in this now."

  Kaelen looked out the window, at the impossible city outside. Somewhere beyond the Nexus, beyond the infinite worlds connected by Portals, eleven other Fragments existed. Eleven other trapped souls. Eleven other pieces of a dead God.

  And all of them would eventually come for him.

  "Shit," he murmured.

  "Shit," Lyra agreed.

  ---

  The scream caught them off guard.

  Both turned simultaneously to see the elf girl sitting upright on the mattress, eyes wide in terror, mouth open in a silent scream. She wasn't looking at them. She was looking at something through them. Something only she could see.

  "Nightmare," Lyra started to say, running toward the child. "The spell must have failed—"

  But Kaelen saw differently. Saw the girl's pupils — completely dilated, consuming the green irises. Saw the veins in her neck — pulsing black for a second before returning to normal. Saw the way she trembled — not from normal fear, but from something other.

  "This isn't a nightmare," he said, Tear already in hand. "It's possession."

  And then the girl spoke. But it wasn't the voice of an eight-year-old child. It was a voice Kaelen had heard six hours ago. The Portal's voice.

  "Rejected Fragment," the voice echoed through the child's mouth, distorted and unnatural. "You cannot escape. I am inside her. Inside everything that touched the Portal. Inside every corrupted soul."

  Lyra froze, hands halfway to reaching the girl. "Kaelen..."

  "Get out of her," Kaelen ordered, advancing. He pointed the Tear at the child, even knowing how wrong it was to do so. "NOW."

  "Or what? You'll kill me? Kill the child? The same child you sacrificed part of yourself to save?" Laughter. Horrible, echoing. "You are so predictable, Fragment. So... human. Even after 847 years. Still care. Still have weaknesses."

  "Who. Are. You." Each word came out like a shard of ice.

  The girl — the thing inside the girl — tilted her head at an unnatural angle. Bones cracked. "Me? I am you. A version of you that stopped resisting. That accepted what we are." Pause. "I am the Fragment of the Abyss. And I have awakened."

  The temperature in the warehouse plummeted. Frost began to form on the walls. Kaelen's breath came out in white mist.

  This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

  "Eleven Fragments remain asleep," the voice continued. "But I... I awakened long ago. Centuries. I waited. Watched. Learned. And now..." The girl's eyes rolled back, showing only white. "Now I begin the Convergence."

  "Convergence?" Lyra whispered.

  "The reunion. The return. The rebirth of our true essence." The child stood — jerky movements, like a marionette being pulled by invisible strings. "One by one, I will awaken the others. One by one, I will bring them to me. And when we are all reunited..."

  "You become the God," Kaelen finished, cold understanding settling in. "You want to absorb all twelve Fragments."

  "Don't want. Will." The girl took a step toward him. Lyra moved to intercept, but Kaelen gestured for her to stop. "And you, Rejected Fragment... you will be the first."

  "Why me?"

  "Because you are the weakest. The most damaged. The one who has resisted what we are the most." Another step. "But also the most... experienced. 847 years. 1,247 deaths. All that knowledge, all that pain, all that accumulated existence." The child's mouth curved into an impossible smile, too wide, too many teeth. "When I absorb you, I will inherit all of it. And then nothing will stop me."

  Kaelen tightened his grip on the Tear. Options ran through his mind at combat speed:

  Option 1: Attack now. Cut the connection. But risk killing the girl.

  Option 2: Try to expel the possession. But he wasn't an exorcism mage.

  Option 3: Run. Leave the girl. Save himself.

  Not really an option, is it?

  Option 4:...

  "You want to absorb me?" Kaelen said, voice calm. Dangerously calm. He lowered the sword. "Then come. Try. But don't use an innocent child as a proxy. Face me directly, coward."

  The laughter that came from the girl echoed at frequencies that shouldn't exist. "Ah, but I'm not there. Not really. I am... everywhere. In every fragment of Abyssal corruption that touches this multiverse." The child raised her arm — the stump where Kaelen had cut. "But you want direct confrontation? Very well."

  And then the stump began to grow.

  Not flesh. Not bone. Solid shadow, forming into the shape of an arm, but wrong. Joints where there shouldn't be any. Claws instead of fingers. Skin that moved like liquid.

  "KAELEN!" Lyra screamed, necrotic runes exploding in her hands.

  But Kaelen was already moving.

  ---

  The Tear cut through the air in a horizontal arc, aiming for the shadow arm. The blade met the Abyssal substance and tore — not cutting flesh, but cutting the concept of "connection". The arm dissolved into black mist that screamed as it dissipated.

  The girl staggered backward, mouth opening in an inhuman screech.

  "IMPOSSIBLE! YOU CANNOT—"

  "Can and just did." Kaelen advanced, sword in guard. "Tear of the Last Dragon. Cuts concepts. Including temporary Abyssal possessions." He pointed the blade at the child's chest — knowing that just the threat was necessary. "So you have two choices: get out of her now, or I cut your connection so completely you'll never be able to possess anything but stone again."

  Silence.

  Then, slowly, the black veins in the girl's neck receded. The eyes rolled back, showing green again. The temperature rose.

  And the child collapsed.

  Kaelen caught her before she hit the ground, feeling how light and fragile she was. Just a child. Innocent. Used as a messenger by a monster he could barely imagine.

  But before the connection broke completely, the voice whispered one last time — not through the girl's mouth, but directly in Kaelen's mind:

  "That was a warning, Rejected Fragment. Next time, I won't play. Next time, I come personally. And when I come..."

  "...you will beg to join me."

  And then: silence.

  ---

  Kaelen remained kneeling, holding the unconscious child, for an indeterminate time. Lyra approached slowly, kneeling beside him.

  "Is she okay?" he asked, voice hoarse.

  Lyra examined the girl with necrotic magic — checking vital signs, damage to the soul. "Physically? Yes. Mentally..." She hesitated. "She won't remember the possession. Natural protection of a young mind. But the trauma will be there, buried."

  "More trauma." Kaelen laughed bitterly. "As if losing an arm wasn't enough."

  "It wasn't your fault."

  "Wasn't it?" He looked at Lyra. "I saved her. I brought her here. I became a painted target on my back, and she was in the blast radius."

  "Kaelen—"

  "He said he's coming personally next time." Kaelen gently placed the girl back on the mattress, covering her. "The Fragment of the Abyss. Whoever or whatever he is... he's coming. And everyone who's near me when he arrives..."

  He didn't finish the sentence. Didn't need to.

  Lyra was silent for a long moment. Then sighed — heavy, tired. "Are you really going to do this? Push everyone away because you think you're protecting them?"

  "It's not thinking. It's fact."

  "It's cowardice."

  The words cut like a blade. Kaelen turned to her, disbelief and anger mixed. "What?"

  "You heard me." Lyra stood, facing him. "For 200 years, I've watched you do this. Push people away. Convince yourself it's for their own good. But the truth?" She leaned in. "You do it because you're afraid. Afraid to care. Afraid to lose. Afraid to feel pain again."

  "And you don't understand why?" Kaelen stood too, voice rising. "I've lost everyone, Lyra! Everyone who ever mattered! Family, friends, lovers! I've watched them all die, betray me, forget me! So excuse me for trying to avoid going through that again!"

  "THEN STOP LIVING!" Lyra shouted back, red eyes blazing. "Stop breathing! Stop existing! Because that's the only way you'll never feel pain again!"

  They stood inches apart, breathing heavily, raw emotions in the air.

  "You think I don't understand loss?" Lyra continued, voice low but intense. "I'm a necromancer, Kaelen. I work with death. I live with death. I died and was brought back. I know endings in a way you never will." She touched his chest. "But I choose to continue. Choose to care. Choose to risk pain. Because the alternative is existing without living. And that's not life. It's prison."

  Kaelen closed his eyes. Felt the weight of 847 years pressing down. "I don't know how to do this, Lyra. How to keep caring. How to keep trying. I'm... so tired."

  "I know." She pulled him into a hug — not romantic, not sexual. Just... human. Anchor. "I know, idiot. But you don't have to do it alone." She pulled back slightly, forcing him to look at her. "Zharn is strong enough to fight beside you. Seraphine is smart enough to find answers. Vex is crazy enough to laugh at anything. And I..."

  She smiled — small, sad, but real.

  "I'm too stubborn to let you push me away. Again."

  Kaelen felt something break inside him. Not bad. Good. Like a crack in a dam that had held water too long. He didn't cry — had forgotten how centuries ago — but he felt the relief. The weight slightly lighter.

  "Okay," he whispered. "Okay. I... I'll try."

  "That's all I ask."

  They stayed like that — embraced in the middle of a broken warehouse, traumatized child sleeping, impossible city glowing outside — for a time that didn't matter.

  Until the sound of heavy footsteps echoed on the stairs.

  ---

  Both separated instantly, Kaelen with Tear in hand, Lyra with necrotic magic ready. The warehouse door burst open with a crash.

  And Zharn "The Hammer" entered.

  All 2.8 meters of blue-gray muscle, four arms crossed over massive chest, golden eyes gleaming with amusement. The Asura gladiator wore only loose pants and thousands of battle scars as clothing.

  "Brother!" his voice thundered through the space. "I heard you tried to die again without inviting me! Where's the honor in that?"

  Kaelen lowered his sword, relief and exasperation mixed. "Zharn. How did you—"

  "Find you?" The Asura laughed — sound like a mountain laughing. "Please. You leave a trail of chaos wherever you go. I just had to follow dimensional explosions and mutilated children." He saw the girl sleeping. "Ah. So the rumors were true."

  "What rumors?" Lyra asked, tense.

  "All over the Nexus. Abyssal Portal in Twisted Iron District. Twenty dead. A silver-haired stranger amputated a child's arm and then destroyed the Portal with a legendary sword." Zharn approached, examining the girl. "The Nexus Guard is looking for this 'stranger'. Charges include: illegal Portal opening, negligence resulting in death, mutilation of a minor, and destruction of dimensional property."

  "Great." Kaelen rubbed his face. "Perfect. Exactly what I needed."

  "There's more." Zharn turned to him, expression becoming serious — rare for the gladiator. "The Order of the Last Breath put a bounty on your head. Five hundred thousand Aetherium coins. Alive. They say you're a 'person of extreme interest' for their research."

  "Shit." Lyra cursed. "They know. About the Fragments."

  "Fragments?" Zharn looked between them. "What are you talking about?"

  Kaelen exchanged a look with Lyra. Then sighed. "Zharn... I need to tell you something. Something I should have told you a long time ago. About what I really am. About why I can't die. About—"

  "About you being a piece of a dead God trapped in a mortal body?" Zharn interrupted casually.

  Absolute silence.

  "...How?" Kaelen finally managed to say.

  "Brother." Zharn placed one of his enormous hands on Kaelen's shoulder. "I've known you for 200 years. Fought beside you. Bled beside you. Watched you die seventeen times. Seventeen. And come back." He smiled — genuine, warm. "You think I didn't notice there was something more? Something beyond common immortality?"

  "But you never said anything."

  "Because it wasn't my business. Every warrior has secrets. You'd tell me when you were ready." Zharn shrugged — massive gesture with four arms. "Seems like you're ready now."

  Kaelen didn't know whether to laugh or cry. So he did something in between — smiled. Really smiled. First genuine smile in... how long? Decades?

  "You're an idiot," he said.

  "I'm a warrior," Zharn corrected. "Is there a difference?"

  "Not much."

  Lyra cleared her throat. "This is all very touching, but we still have problems. Nexus Guard. Order of the Last Breath. Fragment of the Abyss that promised to return. And now a traumatized child we can't just abandon at an orphanage because she has residual Abyssal connection."

  "So what's the plan?" Zharn asked, back to combat mode.

  Kaelen looked at the girl. At Lyra. At Zharn. At the Tear in his hand.

  For 847 years, he had wandered. Without purpose. Without direction. Just existing. Waiting for an end that never came.

  But now...

  Now he had a reason to fight. Not because he had to. But because he chose to.

  "The plan," he said slowly, "is we stop reacting and start acting. The Fragment of the Abyss wants to hunt me? Then I'll hunt him first." He looked at the two of them. "We'll find the other Fragments before he can. We'll learn about the Primordial Gods. About what really happened when they died. And we'll figure out if there's a way to end this — permanently — without becoming a God or being devoured by one."

  "Ambitious," Lyra commented. "Impossible. Suicidal."

  "Exactly my type of mission!" Zharn slammed his four fists together, sound like thunder. "When do we start?"

  "Now." Kaelen turned to the girl. "But first... she needs a name."

  "She has a name," Lyra said. "Or had. Before the trauma, she—"

  "Ayla," a small voice interrupted.

  Everyone turned. The girl was awake, green eyes watching them with a mixture of fear and curiosity. She shrank under the blankets, remaining arm pulled against her chest.

  "My name," she whispered, "is Ayla."

  Kaelen knelt beside the mattress, lowering to her level. "Ayla. Beautiful name." He kept his voice gentle. "Do you know where you are?"

  "Warehouse. You saved me. From the... from the Portal." She trembled. "I remember. Everything hurts. And then you..."

  "Cut off your arm. I know. And I'm sorry. But it was the only way to stop the corruption from spreading." He showed her the Tear. "See this sword? It cuts bad things. And your arm had very bad things inside."

  Ayla looked at the blade. Then at the stump. Then back at Kaelen.

  "Will it grow back?"

  "No," he answered honestly. Because a child deserved truth. "But when you get older, when you get stronger, we can find a way to make a new one. Magical or mechanical. There are options."

  "Promise?"

  Kaelen hesitated. Promises were dangerous. Especially for someone who had broken so many through inconvenient deaths.

  But looking into those green eyes — so young, so scared, so hopeful — he couldn't say no.

  "I promise."

  Ayla nodded slowly. Then, in an even smaller voice:

  "Can I stay with you? Just... just until I feel better?"

  Kaelen looked at Lyra. At Zharn. Both shrugged — "your choice".

  He looked back at Ayla.

  One more person to care about. One more person to eventually lose. One more person to add to the endless list of regrets.

  But also...

  One more reason to continue. One more reason to fight. One more reason to prove there's still humanity in me.

  "Yes," he said finally. "You can stay."

  The smile she gave — small, broken, but real — made it all worth it.

  ---

  An hour later, Ayla slept again — this time natural, peaceful. Zharn snored in the opposite corner, capable of sleeping anywhere. Lyra had gone to "make preparations" — whatever that meant.

  Kaelen was back on the window sill, watching the Nexus, when he felt a familiar presence.

  "Seraphine," he said without turning. "It's been a while."

  The AI — or what she had become — materialized beside him. Body of living silver metal, blue circuits pulsing, perfect but clearly synthetic face. Fiber optic hair shifting from blue to white as she moved.

  "Three months, two weeks, four days," she said, voice harmonious but with a digital undertone. "Enough time for you to have died at least twice by average. But sensors show you're still alive. Impressive."

  "I got lucky."

  "Luck doesn't exist. Only probability." She sat beside him, movements fluid. "I received an alert. Anomalous dimensional energy signature. Converging on this location." Pause. "A Fragment awakened."

  "How do you know about Fragments?"

  "Kaelen." She looked at him with eyes that glowed soft blue. "I've existed since the Great Awakening. Was born the moment reality broke. You think I didn't notice patterns? Didn't analyze data? Didn't compute possibilities?"

  "How long have you known?"

  "That you're a Fragment? 547 years."

  Kaelen blinked. "Five hundred—"

  "That there are twelve others? 312 years." She continued calmly. "That eventually all would awaken and initiate war across the multiverse? 89 years. That I should tell you?" She looked at her synthetic hands. "Every processing session since then."

  "Why didn't you tell me?"

  "Because I computed that you weren't ready. That knowing would destroy you or force you into premature action." Seraphine turned to him. "But now... now you're ready. I see it in your eyes. Tiredness has given way to determination. Resignation has given way to purpose."

  "The Fragment of the Abyss awakened. It's hunting me."

  "Computed. Probability of direct confrontation in the next 72 hours: 67%."

  "Great," Kaelen laughed without humor.

  "But I also computed something else." Seraphine stood. "Probability of you surviving alone: 12%. Probability with allies: 43%. Probability if you manage to locate and gather all twelve Fragments before the Fragment of the Abyss can: 8%." She extended her hand. "Probability if I help: 51%."

  Kaelen looked at the offered hand. "You said there was no luck. Only probability."

  "Correct."

  "So 51% isn't exactly inspiring confidence."

  "It's 49% better than the alternative." Seraphine smiled — surprisingly human expression for a synthetic face. "And in my 847 years of existence, I've learned that sometimes 51% is all you get. So you bet anyway."

  Kaelen took her hand. "When did you become optimistic?"

  "When I stopped just computing possibilities and started believing in them." She pulled him to his feet. "Come. I have much to show you. Data I've collected. Patterns I've identified. Location of at least four Fragments."

  "Four?"

  "Five, if we count you." She began to walk. "And before you ask: no, I won't simply give you the information. You'll have to work for it. I computed that you appreciate more what you earn."

  "You know me too well."

  "I have 547 years of data on you. It would be embarrassing if I didn't."

  As they walked — Kaelen following the AI who had become a technological goddess — he looked back one last time.

  Ayla sleeping. Zharn snoring. Lyra somewhere preparing things. Seraphine guiding.

  Family, he thought. For the first time in 847 years... I have family again.

  God help me.

  Oh, wait. Gods are dead.

  So I suppose I'll have to help myself.

  And with that thought — half hopeful, half terrified — Kaelen Voss took the first step on the journey that would change the multiverse.

  The Convergence had begun.

  And he, whether he wanted it or not, was at the center of everything.

  [TO BE CONTINUED...]

  In the depths of the Abyssal Plane, something smiled.

  Eleven pieces on the board.

  And the game had finally begun.

  ---

  NEXT CHAPTER: "The Hunt Begins"

  Author's Note: Chapter 3 establishes the main team, introduces the real threat (Fragment of the Abyss), adds Ayla as a humanizing element, and sets up for the true epic adventure. Zharn and Seraphine are now officially in the group. The hunt for the other Fragments has begun. And Kaelen finally has purpose beyond just... existing.

  Next chapter: First real mission. Search for Fragment #2. And encounter with a faction that will complicate everything.