Kael didn't trust Lyrik, but trust wasn't a luxury he could afford. The man had just saved his life, and the weight of his sword—a weapon unlike anything Kael had ever seen—spoke of a skill and power that couldn't be ignored.
"Keep up," Lyrik barked over his shoulder as he led Kael through the ruined streets of Vorrath. His movements were swift but controlled, his eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of movement.
Kael clutched the ornate box tightly to his chest, his breathing still ragged from the chase. "Where are we going?"
"To safety," Lyrik replied curtly. "Though that's a relative term these days."
They moved quickly, weaving through crumbling alleys and collapsed buildings. Every noise—every distant creak or shifting stone—set Kael on edge. The Phantom's attack had left him shaken, but it wasn't the first time he'd faced death. Life in Vorrath rarely allowed for peace.
The two eventually reached a narrow stairwell hidden beneath the remains of an old temple. Lyrik descended first, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Kael followed hesitantly, the darkness swallowing them whole as they descended deeper underground.
At the base of the stairs, a large iron door barred their path. Lyrik produced a key from a pouch at his waist and unlocked it with a series of deliberate movements. The door creaked open, revealing a cavernous chamber lit by flickering blue crystals embedded in the walls.
Kael stepped inside, his eyes widening at the sight. The room was a makeshift armory, lined with weapons and armor that looked far more advanced than anything he'd ever seen. Voidsteel blades, runed shields, and strange contraptions hummed softly with energy.
"You're one of them," Kael muttered, realization dawning on him.
Lyrik turned, his expression hard. "One of what?"
"A Voidbreaker," Kael said, his voice tinged with awe and fear. "I thought they were all dead."
Lyrik's gaze darkened. "Most are. The rest… aren't exactly living." He gestured for Kael to sit on a nearby bench. "Now, tell me about that box you risked your life for."
Kael hesitated, clutching the box even tighter. "I don't know what it is. I just… saw it."
Lyrik frowned, stepping closer. "You don't scavenge in Phantom territory for something you 'just saw.' Hand it over."
Reluctantly, Kael placed the box on the table between them. Lyrik examined it carefully, tracing the intricate carvings with a gloved finger. His expression shifted from curiosity to concern as he studied the object.
"This isn't ordinary craftsmanship," he muttered. "These markings… they're Riftscript."
"Riftscript?" Kael echoed, unfamiliar with the term.
"Language of the ancients. The ones who built the Riftstones," Lyrik explained. "This box is tied to the Veil. And if you found it, the Phantoms will keep coming for you."
Kael's stomach twisted at the thought. "Why me? I didn't ask for this!"
Lyrik sighed, his voice softening slightly. "The Rift chooses. It doesn't care about what you want." He glanced back at the box, his jaw tightening. "This complicates things. I was already tracking a surge in Phantom activity near Vorrath, but this changes the game."
Before Kael could respond, a deafening crash echoed through the chamber. The iron door they had entered through shuddered violently as something massive struck it from the other side.
"Phantoms," Lyrik growled, unsheathing his sword.
The door buckled under another impact, the metal warping inward. Kael scrambled to his feet, panic surging through him.
"What do we do?" he asked, his voice trembling.
"We fight," Lyrik said simply. "Stay close, and don't get in my way."
The door finally gave way, exploding inward in a shower of twisted metal. A massive Phantom stepped through the wreckage, its form far larger and more imposing than the one Kael had encountered earlier. Its body was a swirling mass of shadow and jagged energy, its claws dripping with a corrosive substance that hissed as it hit the ground.
Lyrik moved first, his blade slicing through the air with precision. The Phantom roared, its claws meeting the Voidsteel sword in a clash of sparks and energy. Kael could only watch in awe as Lyrik fought, his movements a blur of practiced efficiency.
The Phantom struck with savage speed, its claws raking across the walls as it tried to pin Lyrik down. But the Voidbreaker was faster, ducking and weaving around each attack. His blade flared with blue fire as he struck back, carving deep into the Phantom's form.
"Don't just stand there!" Lyrik shouted, his voice sharp. "Find something to fight with!"
Kael's eyes darted to the weapons lining the walls. He grabbed a small dagger that glowed faintly with the same blue energy as Lyrik's sword. The weapon felt strangely light in his hand, its surface warm to the touch.
The Phantom let out a bone-rattling screech as Lyrik landed another blow, its form beginning to destabilize. But it wasn't finished. With a surge of energy, the creature lashed out, sending Lyrik crashing into the wall.
Kael's heart raced as the Phantom turned its attention toward him. The creature lunged, its claws slicing through the air. Kael reacted on instinct, diving to the side and slashing wildly with the dagger.
To his surprise, the blade connected, carving through the Phantom's arm. The creature howled in pain, its form flickering as if struggling to maintain its shape.
"Not bad," Lyrik grunted, pushing himself back to his feet. He charged forward, his sword striking the Phantom's core in a final, decisive blow. The creature let out a piercing scream before dissolving into nothingness, its energy dissipating into the air.
Kael collapsed to the ground, his chest heaving. His hands were still trembling from the adrenaline coursing through him.
Lyrik sheathed his sword and looked down at the boy. "You've got potential," he said grudgingly. "But if you want to survive, you'll need more than luck and a sharp blade."
Kael glared up at him. "I didn't ask for this."
"None of us did," Lyrik replied, his tone cold. "But if you don't learn fast, you'll end up like the rest of Vorrath—dead or worse."
He turned toward the ruined door, his expression grim. "Come on. We need to move before more of them show up."
Kael hesitated, his grip tightening on the dagger. He didn't trust Lyrik, but the man was right about one thing: the world wasn't going to wait for him to catch up.
"Fine," he said, forcing himself to stand. "But you'd better start explaining what's going on."
Lyrik smirked faintly. "I'll explain when you stop slowing me down."
Together, they disappeared into the darkness, leaving the wreckage of the chamber behind. The fight for survival had only just begun.