The Titan's Gate loomed before them, its colossal stone pillars pulsing with an ancient energy that sent shivers through Raine's spine. The golden runes that had flared to life after their trial were still glowing, casting flickering shadows across the ground.
The air was thick with power. Not just magic, but something older—something alive.
Raine exhaled, shaking out his hands. His fingers still tingled from the battle against his past self in the Veil. The lightning within him felt different now—not just a force that erupted when he needed it, but a part of him. Something he could call upon at will.
A weapon.
He glanced at Sylara, who stood beside him, her silver hair swaying slightly in the charged air. She looked calm, but he knew her well enough now to see the tension in her stance. She, too, had faced a battle within the Veil—a battle against herself.
She met his gaze. "So. What now?"
Seraphis stepped forward, her eyes fixed on the Gate. "The path is open. The Rift lies ahead."
The Rift.
Just hearing the name made Raine's pulse quicken. He had seen it from a distance, its swirling mass of golden light and endless darkness hovering in the sky like a wound in reality. But now, they were about to step into it.
He let out a slow breath. "We're really doing this, huh?"
Sylara smirked. "You scared?"
Raine snorted. "I'd be an idiot if I wasn't."
She didn't argue.
Seraphis raised her staff, the golden runes along the Gate flaring brighter. The energy in the air tightened, as if reality itself were holding its breath.
Then, with a deep, resounding rumble, the Gate opened.
The Threshold of Worlds
Raine had expected something dramatic—a portal tearing through the sky, a tunnel of light, something.
Instead, the air simply split open.
A seam in reality unraveled before them, revealing a swirling mass of golden mist. Beyond it, a new world stretched into infinity—a realm suspended between existence and oblivion.
The Rift.
Sylara exhaled. "Well. That's unsettling."
Seraphis turned to them. "The Rift is unstable. Once we enter, the path will shift constantly. We must not stray from our course, or we may never find our way back."
Raine frowned. "And where exactly is our course?"
Seraphis's gaze darkened. "To the Sanctuary of the Lost. The last remaining bastion of those who remember the world before the divide."
"Sanctuary of the Lost?" Sylara repeated. "Never heard of it."
"You wouldn't have," Seraphis said. "It does not exist in a single place. The Rift moves it. Hides it. Only those who are meant to find it… do."
Raine exhaled sharply. "Great. Love that for us."
Seraphis stepped forward. "Stay close. Do not fight the Rift. Let it take you."
She stepped into the mist—and vanished.
Raine's throat tightened. He looked at Sylara. "You ready for this?"
She smirked. "Nope."
Then, without another word, she walked forward and disappeared.
Raine sighed. "Here goes nothing."
And then he stepped into the Rift.
A World Without Rules
The first thing Raine noticed was the silence.
Not an absence of sound, but an absence of everything.
No wind. No breath. No heartbeat.
For a terrifying moment, he felt disconnected from his own body, as if his very existence was unraveling.
Then, suddenly—
He was standing on solid ground.
Except… there was no ground.
Raine looked down. His feet stood on what looked like a river of stars, an endless current of silver light flowing beneath him. Above, the sky swirled with colors that did not belong, shifting from deep violet to a golden glow, then blackness dotted with countless, shifting moons.
Sylara stood beside him, her eyes wide as she took in the impossibility around them. "This place is…"
"Not real," Raine finished.
Seraphis stood ahead of them, unshaken. "The Rift is real. It simply does not follow the rules of our world."
Raine glanced around. There was no visible path. No markers, no direction. Just… endless existence.
"So… where do we go?"
Seraphis closed her eyes. Then, she stepped forward.
And the Rift moved.
The space ahead of them shimmered, and suddenly, a path formed—a bridge of golden light, stretching toward a distant tower, floating in the void.
"The Rift responds to those who understand it," Seraphis said. "Follow me."
Raine and Sylara exchanged glances before stepping onto the bridge.
Echoes in the Dark
They walked for what felt like hours… or minutes.
Time did not exist here.
Raine tried not to think about what would happen if they lost sight of Seraphis. Something told him wandering off in the Rift was a death sentence.
But even as they walked, something felt… off.
Then—he heard it.
A voice.
"Raine."
He stopped.
The voice was familiar.Too familiar.
He turned sharply—but there was nothing there.
Sylara frowned. "What's wrong?"
Raine's hands clenched. "Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
Seraphis didn't stop walking. "The Rift speaks," she said. "It will show you things. Try to pull you away from the path."
Raine's jaw tightened. "That voice… it was my mother's."
Sylara's expression flickered. "Raine—"
"I know she's not here," he cut in, his voice harder than he intended. "I'm not an idiot. But I still heard her."
Seraphis sighed. "The Rift does not lie. It simply reflects."
Sylara glanced at him. "We keep moving."
Raine exhaled, forcing his hands to relax. Whatever this place was, it wanted him to falter.
He wouldn't.
Arrival at the Sanctuary
The tower ahead grew larger, its structure shifting as if refusing to settle into a single form. It was old. Ancient.
And waiting for them.
Seraphis halted before the entrance, placing a hand on the stone. The walls shuddered—then slowly, the massive doors opened.
Inside, a massive hall stretched endlessly, lined with glowing orbs suspended in midair. Each orb flickered with images—memories, histories, moments frozen in time.
Sylara exhaled. "What is this place?"
Seraphis stepped forward. "The Sanctuary of the Lost. The last refuge of those who still remember… what came before the divide."
Raine stared at the floating orbs, each one whispering secrets long forgotten.
For the first time, he truly understood.
This wasn't just a journey.
This was a war for the past, the present, and the future.
And he and Sylara were at the center of it.