The storm hadn't stopped when the Herald vanished.
If anything, the sky seemed angrier—as if reality itself mourned his departure. Or feared what was coming next.
Kael stood frozen, Eira's name still echoing inside his mind.
> Azherah.
That one word had dropped like a blade into their lives.
And the silence that followed was even heavier.
Eira's breathing grew ragged as she stumbled back, clutching her chest. Her skin pulsed faintly, as though invisible veins of light danced beneath the surface. Her eyes, normally calm pools of soft amber, now burned faintly with something deeper. Something older.
Kael reached for her arm, steadying her before she collapsed entirely. "Eira—no—Azherah… what's happening to you?"
"I—I don't know," she whispered. "That name... I know it. But I don't remember it."
Her voice cracked like thin glass. A single tear slid down her cheek—not from pain, but from something more terrifying: recognition without memory.
Like staring at a locked door inside her own mind.
---
The Ruinweaver approached slowly from behind. His massive frame was silent but impossible to ignore. He tilted his head toward Kael, his voice still heavy with a tone that sounded both ancient and almost… mournful.
> "The name is a key, Commander."
Kael swallowed hard. "A key to what?"
The Ruinweaver's glowing eyes never blinked.
> "To what she was. And to what she may still become."
Kael's hand instinctively went to the hilt of his sword, not from threat—but fear. Fear of what was inside her. Of what they might have just awakened.
Vireya broke the tension first, voice flat but sharp.
"Well, that's wonderfully cryptic. Can someone here explain what the hell that means, or are we all just going to stand around watching her implode?"
Eira's breath steadied slightly. Her trembling slowed. She wiped her eyes, looking at Kael—her voice suddenly steadier than anyone expected.
"Don't be afraid of me."
"I'm not," Kael lied.
But his grip on her arm said otherwise.
---
The Vault beneath them let out a deep mechanical groan, as if reacting to their emotions. The glyphs pulsed stronger.
Arion ran his hands over the control glyphs on the command podium, his fingers darting through complex sequences. His brow furrowed as new alerts flared to life.
> "Kael," he said sharply, "something's wrong with the Vault."
"Its containment systems are destabilizing."
"Because of the Herald?" Kael asked.
Arion shook his head. "No. Because of her."
Kael turned to Eira again, his voice gentler this time.
"Eira... listen to me. Did the name awaken something? Are you feeling... pulled?"
Eira hesitated.
Then finally whispered:
> "Yes."
---
The Ruinweaver's voice came again, softer now.
> "Her blood is calling back to the origin. The Devourer does not only consume worlds. He archives souls. Every fragment remembers its master."
Vireya grimaced. "So what, she's some kind of... living artifact?"
The Ruinweaver nodded.
> "More than that. She was once bound to Him. Or perhaps… she still is."
Kael clenched his jaw, stepping between them protectively. "I don't care what she was. She's not His anymore."
But even as he said it, a cold pit formed in his stomach.
The Herald hadn't been lying.
The Devourer wanted Eira—or Azherah—not simply for her power.
He wanted her because she belonged to him once.
---
For the first time since the battle, Eira stepped forward on her own, standing taller despite the tremble still in her hands.
"No more running. If there's something inside me... I want to face it."
Kael's eyes met hers. He saw something there—a strange blend of courage and hopeless terror.
"We'll face it together," Kael promised. "You won't be alone."
Arion's voice cut in quickly. "That might not be so simple. The Vault's integrity won't last long if her resonance keeps rising. We either stabilize her now or risk a full Vault breach."
The Ruinweaver added:
> "There is one option."
Vireya narrowed her eyes. "Which is?"
> "The Chamber of Remembrance."
Arion's face drained of color. "That place is off-limits for a reason."
The Ruinweaver's voice was grim.
> "Because it was meant for moments like this."
---
The Chamber was buried beneath even the Ninth Level. A place sealed in secrecy, designed not for prisoners or enemies, but for those caught between existence and obliteration.
It was not a place of safety.
It was a place of reckoning.
---
The team prepared quickly.
They had no choice.
Kael led Eira down the winding black stairwell, torchlights igniting automatically as they passed.
The deeper they went, the colder the air became—not temperature, but something worse. Like walking into a place untouched by time.
Eira's voice trembled as she whispered, "Kael… what if I lose myself down here?"
Kael didn't answer at first. He reached out and held her hand tightly.
"Then I'll bring you back."
Vireya walked behind them, muttering, "We've seen stranger things, right? How bad can it be?"
The Ruinweaver, always silent behind them, finally spoke:
> "You cannot comprehend how bad it can be."
---
At the bottom of the stairwell, a giant obsidian door waited.
It pulsed softly, breathing almost.
The glyphs etched into it twisted and shifted, forming strange patterns as they approached.
Arion activated the interface reluctantly. "Once we open this… it can't be closed until the rite finishes."
Kael looked at Eira one last time. "You sure?"
She nodded. "I have to know who I am."
The door opened with a grinding moan.
A blinding silver light poured out.
---
As they stepped inside, the light swallowed them.
And then—
A voice.
Soft. Ancient.
Feminine.
> "Azherah... you've finally returned."
Eira froze mid-step, eyes widening as something familiar yet terrifying pulled at her very soul.
The Chamber of Remembrance had begun.