Mordrek stood alone in the war room, his gaze fixed on the fading projection of the world map that hovered before him. The digital rendering of Eidolon was starting to fracture, showing territories he had yet to seize and alliances he had yet to crush. Soon, all of it would be irrelevant. In thirty days, the servers would shut down. But power doesn't vanish; it transcends. The Void would remain. And so would he.
His hand flexed over the hilt of his sword, feeling the familiar surge of energy from the artifact he wielded. It was a reminder of what he had sacrificed to possess such strength. The faction leaders had already dispersed, but their presence still lingered in the air, thick with their fears, doubts, and uncertainty. They're weak, Mordrek mused. Every one of them. He recalled their whispers, their hesitations during the council meeting, and their unwillingness to act decisively.
He stared at the fractured map. Weakness is a disease. One I will purge.
As he remained lost in thought, a familiar flicker of memory threatened to resurface. Lucian Emberthorn. The name surfaced in the far corners of his mind, like an old photograph kept hidden. Flashes of the past crept in—the blinding lights of the esports stage, the deafening cheers of the crowd as his name echoed in the arena. But it was all meaningless now. Lucian had been a champion in that world, but what was the fleeting glory of an arena compared to being a master of fate? A ruler of the Void?
Yet, why did that name still claw at his mind? What is it about the past that lingers so stubbornly?
A vision interrupted his thoughts: an old tower, crumbling under the weight of time. Somewhere deep within its depths lay an ancient book, covered in dust. The vision vanished as quickly as it had appeared, leaving him unsettled. What is it? It felt important yet distant, like a dream slipping through his fingers. Something he should remember.
Mordrek's hand curled into a tight fist, chasing away the distracting thoughts of Lucian Emberthorn. There is no Lucian. Only Mordrek. The Void was calling, and he had no time for nostalgia.
A knock on the door pulled him back to the present.
"Enter," his voice echoed coldly.
Kaelyn, leader of the Silent Shadows, stepped inside with her usual quiet grace. She was always one step ahead of others, a trait Mordrek respected and despised in equal measure. There was something unreadable about her—layers he had yet to fully peel away.
"You were right," Kaelyn said without preamble. "The Void isn't just a game mechanic. Our scouts... found something beneath the Great Spire."
Mordrek's gaze sharpened, locking onto her words. The Great Spire had long been considered an inaccessible region of Eidolon, shrouded in mystery and legend. He had sent scouts before, but none returned with any useful information.
"What did they find?" His voice was low, a growl of anticipation.
Kaelyn hesitated, clearly weighing her words. Mordrek had little patience for hesitation. The tension in the air thickened, swirling around them like a brewing storm.
"An artifact," she finally said, her eyes dark with something he couldn't quite place. "It predates the game's coding. It shouldn't exist, but it does. It's something real, Lucian—"
The use of his real name sent a shock through him, though Mordrek didn't let it show. Few people knew that name, and fewer still dared to use it in his presence. His past was supposed to be buried. But here Kaelyn was, digging it up with ease.
"You tread dangerous ground," he said, his voice deadly calm. "Speak clearly, or speak not at all."
Kaelyn's expression shifted, unreadable as always. "Forgive me," she said softly before continuing. "The artifact is tied to the Void. It's not like anything we've seen before. It's... sentient, in a way. It spoke to me."
Mordrek's interest deepened. The Void was still an enigma, even to him, but the idea of a sentient artifact connected to it? That changed everything. What if this is the key to unleashing the true potential of the Void?
Later, alone once more in his quarters, Mordrek replayed Kaelyn's words in his mind. The Great Spire. The artifact. It all fit too perfectly. Could this be connected to the vision he'd had earlier? Was the tower he saw the Great Spire? And if so, why had it appeared in his mind now, after all this time?
He opened his interface, but the notifications from his lieutenants and the faction leaders held no meaning compared to the questions swirling in his mind. He was no longer concerned with minor squabbles over territory or the countdown to the server shutdown. These were distractions. There was something far more significant at play, something that could change the very fabric of Eidolon.
A new notification flickered at the top of his screen, one he hadn't expected:
"New objective: Discover the truth of the Great Spire."
Mordrek's lips curled into a smile. So, the game itself acknowledges this. The puzzle pieces were starting to fall into place. There was power waiting to be seized, and he would be the first to claim it. No one else will stand in my way.
"A ruler does not simply seek power; they become the embodiment of it. The world is a chessboard, and I will control every piece." The thought echoed in his mind, a mantra he had adopted in his pursuit of dominance. He envisioned himself orchestrating every move, manipulating every player, while remaining two steps ahead of them all.
As he closed the interface, another flicker of vision overtook him. This time, it lingered—red, glowing eyes, watching him from the shadows of the ancient temple. They weren't part of the vision. They were something more. Something beyond Eidolon.
Mordrek shook his head, dismissing the image. First, I conquer this world. Then I will find the truth behind the Void.
He stood from his seat, the weight of Lucian Emberthorn's past feeling lighter. There was no Lucian anymore.
There was only Mordrek.
---
Words of the Forsaken
"In a world where shadows whisper and intentions twist, remember: knowledge is a weapon, and the Void holds the key."
~ Kaelyn