Night had fallen when Kairo and Zevrin reached the edge of Iridra—the once-thriving capital of the eastern empires, now a city of collapsed spires and cursed silence. The moon hung low behind ash-filled clouds, and the wind carried whispers—soft, almost melodic, like lullabies spoken by the dead.
Zevrin's tone was uncharacteristically quiet. "You feel it too, huh?"
Kairo nodded. The moment he stepped past the crumbling gates, a chill settled in his bones—not from cold, but from something else. Something watching. Waiting.
> "This city was destroyed seventy years ago," Zevrin said, walking through the fractured marble streets. "The bearer of the Emotion Fragment lived here. They called him the Empath."
Kairo glanced around at broken statues, shattered fountains, and faded murals on old buildings. "What happened to him?"
Zevrin's expression hardened. "He felt too much. Everyone's pain. Everyone's joy. Eventually… he broke. Took the whole city with him."
---
A haunting quiet draped over the ruins, broken only by the creak of ancient structures and the occasional ghostly echo of laughter—echoes that didn't belong in this world.
They reached the heart of the city: a ruined amphitheater, still eerily intact. The stone seats circled a wide arena, where a massive symbol was carved into the ground—a swirling spiral of weeping faces.
Kairo narrowed his eyes. "This is where it happened."
Zevrin crouched and pressed his hand to the symbol. A pulse of energy shot out, and the world shifted. The arena vanished—replaced by a memory.
People walked around them—specters from the past, joyful and oblivious.
> "This… is the Empath's last day," Zevrin murmured.
The crowd cheered for a performance. A boy stood center stage—young, golden-haired, his eyes glowing with unnatural light. Music rose, and with it, so did the emotions—bliss, sorrow, heartbreak, ecstasy. The audience wept, laughed, screamed.
Then… something cracked.
The boy clutched his head.
> "It hurts," he whispered. "Make it stop…"
And just like that, the crowd turned monstrous. Faces twisted in agony. Voices became cries for help. The emotion surged—unchecked, raw.
And then—
Everything exploded into white.
---
Kairo gasped as the vision faded. They were back in the arena. Alone.
Zevrin was pale. "The Emotion Fragment doesn't just feed on feelings. It amplifies them. If you're not strong enough, it consumes you."
Kairo stood. "So where is it now?"
A soft voice answered.
> "Right here."
They both spun around.
A figure hovered above the arena. A young man with long hair and sad, glowing eyes. His body was translucent, like a ghost, but the power radiating from him was very real.
> "I've waited… for someone who could carry it."
Kairo stepped forward. "You're the Empath."
He nodded. "I can't leave until someone accepts the burden. But be warned… once you take this Fragment, your heart will never be your own again."
Zevrin muttered, "This is dangerous. Even more than Chronos."
Kairo clenched his fists. He thought of everyone he'd lost. The betrayal. The pain. The desire to protect those who couldn't protect themselves.
> "Then it's time I learned to carry more than just my sword."
He walked into the center of the arena.
The Empath descended, placing a hand on Kairo's chest. A searing heat spread through him—burning, aching. Memories not his own flooded in. Wars. Loves. Deaths. Births. Joy so pure it hurt. Grief so deep it tore at the soul.
Kairo fell to his knees—but didn't scream.
He breathed.
He embraced it.
And when he stood again, his eyes shimmered—like stars born from tears.
---
The Empath smiled, finally at peace, and faded into light.
Zevrin walked to Kairo's side. "You good?"
Kairo nodded, eyes still glowing. "I can feel everything… every heartbeat in this city. Every broken dream. Every hope."
Zevrin raised a brow. "Useful. But dangerous."
Kairo's voice was quiet. "I know."
As they turned to leave Iridra, the city whispered behind them. The ruins were no longer cursed… just waiting.
Waiting for the next bearer.