Aetheron moved deeper into the ruins.
The glow from the ancient inscriptions pulsed faintly, casting strange shadows against the stone walls. The air was thick with something old—not just dust, but a presence.
A feeling of being watched.
His steps were silent. The Sovereign's blade rested at his side, still humming faintly from his last battle. The clash with the shadowed figure had left him with more questions than answers, but he had no time to dwell on it.
Something was here.
And it wasn't just history.
A Door to the Unknown
After what felt like an eternity, the passageway opened into a massive chamber.
Aetheron stopped at the threshold, his gaze sweeping over the scene before him.
A monolithic stone door stood in the center of the room, towering over everything else. Its surface was etched with the same glowing inscriptions, but these were different. More intricate. More alive.
They shifted and moved, as if whispering something in a language long forgotten.
Aetheron approached cautiously. He could feel it—the energy radiating from the door.
This wasn't just an entrance.
It was a seal.
Something was locked away behind it.
The Voice in the Dark
As he reached out, a voice echoed through the chamber.
"You are not meant to open it."
Aetheron turned sharply.
The voice came from everywhere and nowhere. Deep. Hollow. Ancient.
Then—a figure materialized.
A tall, armored warrior, draped in a tattered cloak, face obscured beneath a darkened helm.
Aetheron didn't lower his sword. "Who are you?"
The figure didn't answer immediately. Instead, it slowly stepped forward, boots scraping against the stone.
"A guardian." A pause. "One who stands between mortals and what lies beyond."
Aetheron's grip tightened. "What's behind that door?"
The guardian tilted its head slightly. "A question better left unanswered."
Aetheron wasn't in the mood for riddles. "Move."
The air shifted.
The temperature dropped.
Aetheron barely had time to react before the guardian vanished—
—then reappeared behind him.
The Clash Begins
Aetheron spun just as the guardian struck.
Fast. Faster than the misted figure from before.
Their weapons clashed, sending a shockwave through the chamber.
Aetheron gritted his teeth as he pushed back. The sheer weight behind the guardian's strike was immense.
This wasn't just a test.
It was a warning.
The guardian's blade swung again. Aetheron dodged, sliding beneath the arc and countering with a swift upward slash.
But—his sword hit nothing.
The guardian had already moved.
A Battle of Ghosts and Steel
Aetheron exhaled sharply.
This wasn't like his usual fights.
The guardian's movements were unnatural. Not teleportation, not speed—something else.
Aetheron shifted his stance. If he couldn't follow its movements, he'd have to force it into a corner.
He lunged forward, blade cutting through the air in a rapid flurry of attacks.
Each swing was precise, aimed at limiting the guardian's movement.
The guardian blocked, dodged, and countered, but Aetheron kept closing in.
Then—
Aetheron feinted left.
The guardian took the bait.
In that split second, Aetheron twisted, shifting his weight—and drove his sword forward.
The blade pierced through the armor.
For a moment, everything froze.
The guardian looked down at the sword embedded in its chest. The inscriptions along the walls pulsed wildly.
Then—it laughed.
Aetheron's eyes narrowed. Why was it laughing?
The guardian grabbed his wrist.
Aetheron's body seized.
And suddenly—
Visions of a Forgotten War
His mind was no longer his own.
The chamber vanished.
He was standing somewhere else.
A battlefield. Ruined. Burning.
Bodies littered the ground. The sky was cracked, split by golden rifts.
And at the center of it all—
A figure stood.
A king. A ruler. A Sovereign.
Draped in royal armor, his presence drowned everything else.
His gaze was locked on a towering shadow across from him—
An entity. A being of pure destruction.
Aetheron's breath caught. This… was the battle.
The one from the vision before.
The one the Sovereign lost.
Aetheron tried to move, but he wasn't in control. He was watching through another's eyes.
The Sovereign raised his blade.
The entity laughed.
And then—
The war resumed.
The Moment of Defeat
The Sovereign fought like nothing Aetheron had ever seen.
His strikes split mountains. His movements warped reality itself.
And yet—
He was losing.
The entity's power was limitless. It didn't fight with technique. It fought with raw destruction.
Every strike shattered the land.
Every movement erased existence.
And then—
The Sovereign faltered.
For the first time.
For the last time.
The entity's attack landed.
Aetheron felt the impact. Felt the moment history was rewritten.
The Sovereign's blade fell from his hands.
And as he collapsed—
The vision ended.
The Truth Unveiled
Aetheron gasped as he was ripped back to reality.
The guardian still held his wrist. But now—its grip was loose.
Aetheron staggered back.
His mind reeled from what he had just witnessed.
The guardian exhaled, taking a step away. "Now you understand."
Aetheron's hands clenched into fists. "That thing… it's still out there."
The guardian nodded. "Waiting. Watching. And one day… it will return."
Aetheron's gaze snapped to the sealed door. "That's why this exists."
The guardian said nothing.
Because the answer was obvious.
Aetheron wasn't just looking at a door.
He was looking at a prison.
And something inside was still alive.