Morgan's breath was shallow as he stepped deeper into the vast stone chamber, its ceiling obscured by darkness that seemed to close in as they ventured further. His hand brushed against the cold, uneven surface of the wall, and he couldn't shake the sensation that the walls themselves were watching him. Jamie was close behind, his gaze darting around as if he expected something to lunge from the shadows.
At the center of the room, bathed in an unnatural glow, floated the orb. It looked almost like a simple sphere, yet its surface undulated, shifting in unsettling patterns of light and shadow, as though it concealed something alive within. The air felt charged, prickling against Morgan's skin. Every instinct told him to keep his distance, yet he felt compelled to draw closer.
Jamie's voice broke the silence, wavering. "Morgan… maybe we shouldn't."
But Morgan was already moving forward, his hand extending toward the orb. His fingertips hovered just above its dark surface, and he could feel its energy—a cold, biting force that seemed to sink into his skin even without contact. He felt a pull, like invisible threads wrapping around him, drawing him closer despite every fiber of his being screaming to stop.
Finally, he touched it.
A violent surge of energy shot through his arm, cold and burning at once, like needles piercing every nerve. His vision went white, and his body convulsed, but he couldn't pull away. The orb pulsed, and something within it responded to him, as if it had waited a lifetime for this very moment. His surroundings disappeared, swallowed by darkness, and he was left alone, suspended in an endless void.
Then, a presence made itself known—familiar, yet wholly alien. Morgan's mind trembled under the force of it, a relentless pressure bearing down on him, sifting through his thoughts as though he were nothing but a curious specimen under a magnifying glass. He could feel his mind fracturing, shards of his own memories scattering, rearranging, as something foreign forced its way in.
The pressure intensified, and then, from the depths of his consciousness, a voice spoke, its words smooth and calm but laced with a deadly undercurrent. "Morgan… you have awakened me."
It was Elias. But this wasn't the voice of a man seeking guidance or sympathy; it was hard, relentless, with a dark resolve that tightened around Morgan's mind like a vice. There was no mercy here, no warmth, only a single-minded determination that clawed its way through his thoughts.
"You will finish what I could not, I will help you." The words came again, echoing within his mind, burrowing deeper. Each syllable tore at his consciousness, wearing down his resistance.
Morgan's body jerked, his eyes widening, breath coming in ragged gasps. "Elias… what… what are you?"
"I am all that remains of a purpose unfulfilled, of a journey cut short." The words slithered through his mind, filling him with fragments of images, broken memories spilling over into his thoughts. He saw Elias's life flash by in disjointed scenes: the desperate pursuit of something precious, the relentless search for an artifact—the World Stone—one of unimaginable power. Morgan felt Elias's anguish, the determination that had driven him, the utter obsession that had ended in ruin.
The visions didn't stop. Elias's memories surged, a forceful tide of horrors, triumphs, and failures washing over Morgan's mind. He saw The Forgotten Realm—a place of shadows and mist, its landscape both beautiful and brutal, deadly creatures lurking at every turn. And within that realm, pieces of the World Stone lay hidden, shards of a weapon so powerful it had the potential to reshape reality.
"You have inherited my purpose, whether you desire it or not," Elias continued, his voice unyielding, carrying the weight of centuries. " The Forgotten Realm is no place of wonder. It is a prison—a dark world where time itself has no meaning, where hope dies."
Morgan's knees buckled, and he fell to the stone floor, his head pounding, his vision swimming with Elias's memories. He felt Jamie's hands on his shoulders, grounding him, but barely. Morgan's gaze remained fixed on the orb as it continued to pulse with dark energy, each beat resonating through him, entwining Elias's desires with his own thoughts.
"There is no turning back now," Elias said, his voice growing softer, but no less insidious. "The World Stone can be restored, and with it, you can wield unimaginable power. Power that can save or destroy, power that I failed to claim in my time."
Morgan wanted to scream, to rip Elias out of his mind, but the grip was too strong, like a thorned vine snaking through his consciousness, embedding itself deeper and deeper. He saw flashes of Elias's last moments—the desperation in his eyes as he failed to piece together the artifact, his final regret as he realized he would never save the one person he had fought for.
"My sister," Elias's voice was colder now, edged with an icy resolve. "I sought the shards to save her. Now you will do what I could not. Find the remaining pieces. Forge the World Stone anew. Bring her back."
The words settled heavily in Morgan's mind, as if they were carving themselves into his very soul. He felt Elias's need, his desperation, twisting and merging with his own sense of purpose, warping it. It wasn't simply a mission to gather the shards. It was a demand, a compulsion forced upon him by Elias's spirit.
The presence of Elias retreated slightly, but its hold remained, lingering in the shadows of Morgan's mind. He could feel the ache of it, the wound left behind by its departure, but there was a residue, an invisible chain binding them together. He knew, without question, that Elias could return whenever he wished, that he was watching, waiting for the next step.
As the vision faded and the real world seeped back into focus, Morgan found himself trembling on the cold stone floor. Jamie's hands gripped his shoulders, worry etched deeply into his face.
"Morgan? Are you…?"
But Morgan didn't answer. His eyes locked onto the orb, now dim and lifeless, as if its purpose had been fulfilled, its energy spent. He felt the lingering presence of Elias like a chill at the base of his skull, a weight that refused to lift. And with it, an unshakable sense of dread, knowing that Elias's demand would not be ignored.
The air in the chamber felt colder, the shadows deeper. The walls, once silent, seemed to throb in time with Morgan's heartbeat, mocking him, reminding him of the presence that now lurked within. Jamie helped him to his feet, and he clutched the other man's arm, the feel of something real and solid grounding him, though he knew that nothing could banish the feeling gnawing at his core.
"Jamie… we need to get out of here. Now."
Jamie nodded, casting one last wary glance at the orb. As they stepped away, Morgan could almost feel its gaze lingering on him, a malevolent awareness watching his every move, as if Elias's spirit had left a piece of himself there, a silent guardian of his twisted legacy.