Four people remained.
After Sorrel's death, the atmosphere between them froze. Lugh could barely walk, and though Bianca tried to heal him with light magic, the wounds the creature had left were unusual.
It was as if his own flesh refused to heal.
The gate still stood. Still. But it seemed to breathe.
Alexander stood closest to it, gazing at the carvings that now glowed faintly red. The ancient words seemed alive—pulsing, slowly.
"Here begins a world without gods."
"This is no ordinary seal," he murmured.
"This is no prison."
Rina approached, her face pale. "If not a prison, then what?"
Alexander answered without turning around.
"This is the entrance. And we are not the first guests."
After a moment's scrutiny, Bianca found another symbol on the side of the gate. A deeply engraved circle, divided into eight sections. One of the eight segments was… open.
"Eight keys," he said. "And one has been used."
Lugh, now leaning against the rock, growled weakly, "So… someone has opened it?"
Alexander nodded slowly. "Reed. Or… who was with him."
There was a pause. The wind died. The whispers returned.
But this time they were clearer.
Not just meaningless murmurs—but a name.
"Alexander."
Everyone tensed.
Rina took a step back. Bianca gripped her sword tightly.
Alexander stood expressionless, staring at the gate.
"He knows I'm coming."
That night, in their humble camp outside the crater, Alexander lay awake alone.
He opened another ancient scroll—maps and records from before the kingdom of light.
One name kept coming back.
Val'Tareth.
A banished god. A traitor to heaven.
Now thought to be… back.
Alexander remembered when he had first learned the legend as an apprentice in the western library. He had laughed at it then.
But now?
He had seen the shadow himself.
Reed had changed. And that power—it was not human.
The night deepened. And as everyone slept, the voice came again.
But this time, it wasn't from the gate.
From within Alexander's mind.
"You can save them."
"Even Sorrel."
"You only need to open one more segment."
Alexander gritted his teeth.
"Silence."
But the voice was gentle. Full of conviction. Not pushy.
"The light will only burn you. But I can change you. Make you strong."
"Not a knight… but a king. Goblins? Humans? It doesn't matter. All will bow."
Alexander closed his eyes. But in the darkness, the shadow smiled.
And deep inside him, something began to stir.
Thirst.
A hunger he had never known before.
The next morning, he stood before the gate. Hand on the carving.
Bianca looked at him suspiciously.
"What are you doing?"
Alexander did not answer directly.
He just turned his head slightly and said, quietly:
"If I don't come back… don't look for me."
Then he pressed the carving that opened.
And the gate began to open by itself.
The light from the outside world vanished as Alexander passed through the gate. There was no sound from Bianca or Rina. No screams.
Just silence.
And a darkness that was not just the absence of light, but a solid substance that enveloped the body and mind.
His footsteps echoed like the last sounds in the dead world.
Beyond the gate, it was not hell as the priests had described it. No fire. No screams.
Just a plain of ash, a dark sky, and giant ruins.
A city that had died thousands of years ago.
Large buildings towered in the distance—made of black stone that didn't crack even though time eroded it.
In the center of the city, there is a tower.
And from that tower…
The whispers were heard again.
"You've come so far, Alexander."
"Leave them behind. Embrace the real you."
He ignored the voice. But his steps took him right to the center of the ruins.
There, embedded in the ground—an altar.
And above him, sat a robed figure, with his face hidden behind a mask made of bone and gold.
The voice stopped whispering.
Now speak directly.
"Welcome, the final legacy of light."
Alexander stared at the figure intently.
"Are you Val'Tareth?"
The figure stood slowly. His robes did not billow, but the shadows beneath him slithered like living fluid.
"I am not a name. I am the will of all those who have been cast aside, forgotten, and punished for their power."
"I am what will become of you, if you continue down this path."
Alexander gripped the hilt of his sword. But his hands trembled slightly.
Val'Tareth stepped down from the altar.
"You were born for this. They call you hope, but they want you to submit."
"Me? I will set you free."
Alexander swung his sword. But the blade of light stopped in midair—held back by an unseen shadow.
"Even your sword knows that resistance is futile."
Val'Tareth approached.
"I can give you the power to save your friends. To destroy Reed. To rule over everything."
"Or you can go back… and slowly lose everything."
"Bianca will die. Rina will be betrayed. The world will sink. And everyone will blame you."
Alexander took a deep breath.
"You don't know who I am."
"That's right. Because you don't even know who you are."
Val'Tareth raised his hand, and a mirror appeared.
Alexander looked into it.
But what he saw was not himself.
It was his other self—standing over the corpses of humans and goblins, with a crown on his head and eyes glowing purple.
"That's you… if you stop fighting."
Alexander closed his eyes.
And when he opened them again, he said:
"If this is my destiny… then I will fight it to the end."
Val'Tareth smiled.
"Good. I want to see how long the light can last… before it goes out."
And in an instant, the shadow swallowed everything.
Alexander drew his sword again.
And the battle between light and darkness began.