Darkness.
Then a scream.
Not from his mouth—but from the air itself. From the world. From reality.
Kairo stumbled backward, clutching the newly acquired Fourth Fragment, its pulse thudding like a second heartbeat in his hand. His vision was warping, bending—the chamber around him twisted like it was underwater.
Then he saw them.
Eyes.
Dozens. Hundreds.
Not physical—celestial. Some glowed gold, others silver. One, a deep, endless void.
They stared at him from above the world, beyond the veil of stars. Some held curiosity. Others, amusement. But most shimmered with wrath.
> "What… are those?" Zevrin whispered beside him, breath trembling.
> "The gods," Kairo said, his voice barely a whisper. "They've seen me now."
A thunderclap echoed through the chamber—despite there being no sky.
Words burned themselves into the stone walls in a language Kairo had never seen, but somehow understood.
> "The Fourth Has Fallen. The Trial Begins."
Then the Fragment vanished from his hand—no, not vanished—it fused.
Into his chest.
Kairo screamed, collapsing.
---
His body convulsed. Energy poured into his soul like molten light. His veins lit up, his heart thundered. Every nerve in his body screamed, not in pain—but in ascension.
Visions came again.
Not from the Oracle.
But from the Fragment itself.
He stood in a ruined palace above the clouds. Corpses of gods littered the floor—golden ichor staining the stone. A single figure stood atop the throne, cloaked in shadow, holding five Fragments.
The figure turned.
It was him.
Then everything went black.
---
Kairo awoke gasping, drenched in sweat. The chamber was quiet again. The mist had vanished. Even Eromos' broken form was crumbling to dust.
Zevrin sat nearby, his gun across his lap, watching.
> "You were out for three hours."
> "Three?"
> "Yeah. And while you were napping, the walls started glowing. Like… a warning beacon."
Kairo sat up, groaning.
He could feel it—all of it.
His senses were sharper. He could hear the heartbeats of insects in the rocks. Feel the temperature of the wind. The Fourth Fragment hadn't just added to his strength—it had transcended something.
But it had also invited danger.
Big danger.
> "We have to move," he said.
> "Agreed."
> "Where's the next one?"
> "I don't know yet. The Fragments aren't whispering anymore."
Zevrin gave him a long look.
> "You sure you're okay?"
Kairo didn't answer. Instead, he stared upward—through the cracks in the mountain above.
He could still feel their gaze.
Watching.
Waiting.
---
They left the Forgotten Vale under a bruised sky. The clouds above swirled unnaturally, as if the world itself was reacting to Kairo's growth.
By the time they reached the next outpost, rumors were already spreading.
> "Did you hear? The ground split in the Vale."
> "Some say a god was reborn."
> "The Watchers have moved."
The Watchers.
Kairo had heard that name only once—from the Oracle.
Beings that served the gods directly. Enforcers of divine law. Each one stronger than a nation's army.
And now, they knew he existed.
---
Inside the outpost tavern, the room fell silent when Kairo entered. His aura was different now—too sharp, too wild. Even the bravest mercenaries moved out of his path.
> "We'll need supplies," he told Zevrin. "And contacts. We're not hunting in the dark anymore."
> "Where to next?"
Kairo stared at the flames in the hearth.
> "South. The Iron Sanctum. That's where the Fifth Fragment is hidden. But it's also where the Church of Light reigns."
Zevrin groaned.
> "Great. Fanatics with divine artillery."
> "And if I'm right… that's where the first Watcher will come for me."
---
That night, Kairo couldn't sleep.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw that throne.
Himself, draped in power.
The world on fire.
But was it a prophecy… or a warning?
> "You're afraid," a voice said.
He turned sharply—sword half-drawn.
But no one was there.
Then he looked at his reflection in the window—and it spoke.
> "Afraid of what you're becoming."
> "You're not real," Kairo whispered.
> "Not yet."
The reflection smiled.
And vanished.