The air in the grand hall was thick with tension. Mordrek, shrouded in the oppressive weight of his obsidian armor, stood at the head of the room. His every movement was calculated, deliberate, as though each step echoed the dark power he wielded. Faction leaders from across the realms of Eidolon gathered around him—players who had once sworn loyalty to others now found themselves under his dominion.
The heavy wooden table, carved with intricate designs of battle and chaos, bore witness to the decisions that were about to unfold. A stark contrast to the dying virtual world outside, the hall remained eerily silent as all eyes turned to Mordrek. Some watched in awe, others with concealed hatred. He could feel their stares, each glance a reminder of the fragile balance of power.
"Why have you summoned us?" a voice rang out from one of the leaders. Alric, a man known for his ambition and tendency to question authority, spoke with impatience. Mordrek noted the flicker of fear in his eyes.
Mordrek's lips curled into a cold, humorless smile beneath his helm. He had long learned to detect fear masquerading as defiance. It made them weak.
"The Void stirs," Mordrek began, his voice a low rumble that seemed to make the walls tremble. "You feel it, don't you? This world is ending." He let the words hang in the air, allowing their weight to settle into the minds of those around him. A faint ripple of unease passed through the room. The mention of the Void always carried the promise of power... but also danger.
"I have gathered you here," he continued, "because the time has come for us to seize what remains. The factions beyond these walls are weak, fractured. We will crush them and rise from the ashes as rulers of the Void itself."
The hall remained silent, but Mordrek could sense shifting emotions—some hungry for power, others wary of what he promised.
"But the game is shutting down," a softer, more measured voice interjected. Kaelyn, leader of the Silent Shadows, was one of the few who still remained neutral to Mordrek's growing influence. "What good is conquering a dying world?"
Mordrek turned his head slowly to face her, his expression unreadable behind the dark helm. "Dying or not, Kaelyn, the Void exists beyond this game. Eidolon may be a playground, but those with vision understand that true power transcends worlds." His voice lowered as though sharing a dangerous secret. "The Void will still be there when the servers shut down. And I will be the one to claim it."
The revelation sent a ripple of shock through the room. The Void was not just another in-game mechanic—it was something else entirely. Few had even heard of its existence, and fewer understood what it was. But Mordrek, it seemed, possessed knowledge none of them had. Was he telling the truth? The leaders exchanged uncertain glances.
Mordrek watched their reactions carefully, noting the shifting loyalties and fears among them. Good. Let them doubt. Let them hesitate. In hesitation, he saw his opportunity to dominate.
As the factions mulled over his words, Alric leaned forward, challenging once again. "And why should we follow you into this Void? What proof do we have that you can deliver on these promises?"
The room fell into a tense silence. Mordrek's eyes, hidden behind the black visor, bore into Alric. His grip tightened slightly on the hilt of his sword, feeling the surge of power that had become his signature. He could crush Alric here and now, make an example of him. But no… that would be too easy.
"Proof?" Mordrek's voice was a chilling whisper, yet it carried throughout the room like a death knell. "I owe you no proof, Alric. You follow because you know what happens to those who do not." His hand rested lightly on the hilt of his sword, a subtle but unmistakable reminder of his strength. "Doubt is the death of power. Follow me, or I will show you what it means to be truly forsaken."
The room seemed to shrink around them. Alric flinched, the defiance in his eyes faltering for the briefest of moments before he bowed his head slightly. He would not challenge Mordrek again. Not today.
Mordrek turned his back to the table, allowing the tension to simmer. His gaze fell on the flickering notification in the corner of his vision. 30 days. The server shutdown loomed like a shadow over everything. Time was running out. But time was always an illusion, wasn't it? Power was what truly mattered.
In the stillness, a new thought emerged, gnawing at the back of his mind since learning of the shutdown. He couldn't stop the end of Eidolon, but he could control how it ended. He could carve his name into its very foundation, ensuring that long after the servers blinked into nothingness, players would still remember the reign of Mordrek the Forsaken. His legacy would outlast the game itself.
He turned back to the faction leaders, his voice colder than before. "There are no other options. We move swiftly, striking at the heart of those who remain. Anyone who opposes us will be obliterated. You either conquer with me, or you burn with the rest."
The leaders shifted uneasily but remained silent. They knew, as did Mordrek, that their fates were now tied to his. There was no escape from the grip he held over them, just as there was no escape from the Void.
As the meeting drew to a close, Mordrek's thoughts drifted, not to the faction leaders or their alliances, but to memories of a different life. The world outside of Eidolon—a world where he had once been known as Lucian Emberthorn, the esports champion. But Lucian was gone, swallowed by the persona of Mordrek. And the more time passed, the harder it became to remember where one ended and the other began.
But that didn't matter anymore. Soon, Eidolon would fall. And with it, everyone who had ever stood in his way.
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Words of the Forsaken
"In the shadows, alliances are forged, but trust is a blade that cuts both ways. Choose wisely, for betrayal is often hidden in plain sight." ~ Lucian