The Blood Sands of Xerxis
The Landing
The Celestial Drake descended through Xerxis's crimson atmosphere, its hull groaning under the weight of the sandstorm raging outside. Kael pressed his face against the observation window, watching as the dunes below shifted like a living, breathing beast. The planet was a graveyard of forgotten wars—its sands littered with the skeletal remains of ancient war machines, half-buried and rusted under twin suns.
"This place is cursed," Lira muttered, tightening the straps of her environmental suit.
"Cursed pays well," Captain Ryn shot back, her cybernetic eye flickering as she scanned for landing coordinates. "That Vorthax beacon we picked up? It's coming from deep underground. Whatever they left here, it's valuable."
Kael's grip tightened around Dawnbreaker. The sword had been silent since they left Selene's Fracture, but he could feel its energy humming beneath the metal, reacting to something unseen.
The ship touched down with a shudder, kicking up a plume of red dust. The moment the ramp lowered, the heat hit them like a furnace blast.
"Welcome to hell," Ryn said, grinning.
The Wyrms' Call
They trekked across the dunes, following the signal to a massive sinkhole where the sand spiraled downward like a drain. At its center stood a ruined archway, covered in Vorthax glyphs.
"Soul Harvester," Lira translated, her voice grim. "This isn't just a weapon. It's a feeding ground."
Before Kael could ask what she meant, the ground trembled. A deafening screech tore through the air as the sand erupted—a sand wyrm, its segmented body gleaming with crystalline scales, lunged at them.
Kael barely rolled aside as its maw, lined with jagged teeth, snapped shut where he'd stood.
"Scatter!" Ryn yelled, firing her plasma pistol. The bolts glanced off the wyrm's hide like rain.
Lira pulled out a handheld device, her fingers flying over the controls. "Their scales are energy-resistant! Aim for the gaps between segments!"
Kael raised Dawnbreaker, and for the first time since Luminis, the sword flared to life, its edge glowing with starlight. The wyrm recoiled, hissing.
It remembers this light.
The thought came unbidden, as if the sword had whispered it to him.
Then—another tremor. A second wyrm burst from the dunes.
"We're outmatched!" Ryn barked.
Kael's pulse roared in his ears. He didn't think—he acted.
He slammed Dawnbreaker into the sand.
A pulse of cosmic energy rippled outward. The wyrms froze, their massive bodies shuddering as if caught in a trance. For a heartbeat, the entire desert held its breath.
Then, as one, the creatures retreated, burrowing back beneath the sands.
Silence.
Lira stared at him. "What… was that?"
Kael exhaled shakily. "I don't know."
"You commanded them," Ryn said, her voice sharp with suspicion.
Before he could respond, the ground gave way beneath them.
The Underground Tomb
They fell into darkness, landing hard on cold metal. Kael groaned, pushing himself up—and froze.
They stood in a massive underground chamber, its walls lined with thousands of glass pods. Inside each one, a humanoid figure floated in stasis, their faces twisted in silent screams.
"Soul storage," Lira whispered, horrified. "The Vorthax have been stockpiling them."
At the center of the room stood the Soul Harvester—a monstrous machine, its surface writhing with black tendrils that pulsed like veins.
Ryn let out a low whistle. "That's not just a weapon. It's a battery."
Kael stepped closer, his skin crawling. The machine recognized him. The tendrils twitched in his direction, reaching—
"Don't touch it!" Lira yanked him back.
Too late.
A voice echoed through the chamber—mechanical, yet alive.
"Starborn detected. Initiating transfer protocol."
The machine activated, its core splitting open like a grotesque flower. A beam of violet light shot out, slamming into Kael's chest.
He screamed as his vision whited out—
The Vision
He stood in a void between stars, before a monstrous shape—a planet-sized engine, its surface covered in screaming faces.
The God-Engine.
"You are the key," a voice hissed. "The last bridge between flesh and the infinite."
Images flashed—
A fleet of burning ships.
A knight with his own face, falling to a blade.
The Celestial Drake, broken in half, its dragon soul screaming.
Then—pain.
Kael gasped as he was ripped back into reality, collapsing to his knees. The machine's light faded, its core sealing shut.
"Kael!" Lira grabbed his shoulders.
He couldn't speak. His hands were glowing, his veins alight with cosmic energy.
"What did it do to you?" Ryn demanded.
"It… showed me," he panted. "The Vorthax aren't just harvesting souls. They're feeding them to the God-Engine."
A beat of silence.
Then—the walls shook.
Alarms blared as the chamber's defense systems activated.
"We've overstayed our welcome," Ryn growled.
"We can't leave this thing intact!" Lira argued.
Kael forced himself up, his body still humming with unstable power. "Then we destroy it."
Ryn smirked. "Finally, something fun."
The Escape
They planted explosives at the machine's core, then ran as the chamber collapsed around them.
The wyrms, agitated by the tremors, resurfaced—but this time, they ignored the group, instead slithering toward the crumbling ruins.
"They're protecting something," Lira realized.
"Not our problem!" Ryn shouted, shoving them onto the Drake's ramp.
The ship launched just as the entire sinkhole imploded, the Harvester's destruction sending a shockwave that rippled across the dunes.
Kael watched from the window as the sands turned black, the wyrms letting out one final, mournful cry before vanishing beneath the surface.
"What now?" Lira asked quietly.
Kael looked at his hands. The glow had faded—but the visions lingered.
"Now," he said, "we find the Astral Forge before the Vorthax do."
The Celestial Drake roared into the void, leaving the blood sands behind.