As Maraak walked away from the bleak mountains and back into the wastelands, the twisted shadows of Nithrax-7 lay silent behind him. Shadows stretched across the ground as the crimson sky grew darker, as though the earth itself shrank away from him. The air felt lighter when Voraak was destroyed, but Maraak's soul remained restless. He gained strength from each soul he claimed, but it was never sufficient.
Softly, Veilsunder, newly energized, murmured. "Maraak, there are more in the Black Expanse, farther out. We are awaiting the Blood Eternal. Like a plea from an addict, the blade's voice sounded silky yet had a tinge of urgency. The blade's ravenous need mixed with Maraak's as he sensed its pull toward the far-off darkness.
He was walking when a thin, shrouded figure with sharp eyes that gleamed dimly under a hood appeared out of the dust. Veilsunder lifted a single hand in peace as Maraak tightened his hold on him, ready to attack.
The stranger said, "Maraak, the Blood Reaver," in a soothing, lilting voice that made him feel as if he were meeting an old friend. You are called upon by the Blood Eternal. The traditional methods require it.
Maraak squinted his eyes. His tone was stern as he said, "The Blood Eternal has not made contact since my last mission." "Now what is it requesting from me?"
A smile twisted the figure's lips. The change has been noticed by the Blood Eternal. The passing of Voraak has not gone ignored. You now possess a fragment of something ancient, Maraak, and power appeals to power. When the Blood Eternal notices this, it calls you to its very center.
Something stirred inside Maraak. Killers, assassins, and those who sought atonement via death all worshipped the Blood Eternal, an evil force that was silent and all-seeing. However, it rarely spoke to its adherents directly; instead, it sent them dreams and visions. It was uncommon for it to send a messenger in human form, and it indicated that a significant matter was involved.
With a low rumbling in his voice, he asked, "And if I refuse?"
The stranger's smile faded, replaced by a cold stare. "Refusal is no option, Maraak. The Blood Eternal's claim on you is absolute. You have killed in its name, reaped souls for its purposes. You are bound to its will as surely as you are bound to that blade. You have no path but forward."
Knowing that the words were accurate, he gritted his teeth. "Where?" he finally inquired.
The stranger's response to this was, "The Void Spire awaits." The figure moved, causing a tiny gem to glow gently crimson. Your spacecraft will be guided to the Spire by doing this. Your fate will become clear there. The visitor vanished again into the night, leaving Maraak alone with the crystal and the burden of his inevitable fate.
The crystal pulsed softly in Maraak's hand as he looked at it back aboard his ship. It was a steady thumping that sounded oddly light, like Veilsunder's own pulses. As he entered its coordinates into the ship's system, it projected spooky shadows over his face in the cabin's darkness. As its engines roared to life, the ship trembled as it raced away from Nithrax-7 and toward the icy emptiness outside.
The only sounds to accompany the ride were Veilsunder's soft whispers and the distant hum of equipment. As he meditated and let the power of Voraak's soul to settle within him, the days went by in a blur. However, as he drifted farther, he became increasingly aware that there was something—a piece of Voraak's essence, a dark, echoing rage.
Veilsunder, sensing his thoughts, spoke in a whisper. "Voraak's soul lingers within you. Do not fear it, Maraak; it will only strengthen you, if you let it."
Maraak scowled, feeling the deity's shadow inside his own mind, like a faint heartbeat that wasn't his own. He snarled, "Voraak's will is poison." "He will never have my power, but I will use his."
The sword gave a low laugh. "Power has two sides to it. Make good use of it.
The spacecraft finally reached the Black Expanse's edge. Before him, looming against the backdrop of endless stars, stood the Void Spire. It was an immense, spiraling monolith of dark metal, covered in ancient runes that glowed with a dim red light. As he drew closer, he could feel the Spire's power seeping into the ship, reverberating in his bones. It was a relic of another age, a remnant of the Blood Eternal's earliest days, rumored to be a place where those chosen could commune with the force itself.
Docking the ship, he stepped into the Spire's depths, the air thick with silence and a faint metallic taste. The corridors were dark, and the walls seemed to pulse, almost alive, guiding him deeper. His footsteps echoed as he descended into the heart of the Spire, and with each step, he felt Voraak's presence stirring, an unwilling passenger in his soul.
At last, he reached a vast chamber at the Spire's center, an empty expanse where shadows twisted and swirled, drawn to a faint red glow emanating from a stone pedestal. As he approached, the air grew heavy, suffused with the weight of countless souls bound to the Spire. The crystal he had been handed was smaller and less beautiful than the one on the pedestal. It surged with the same red brightness of a heartbeat.
He was pulled into the shadows as soon as he touched the crystal.
Images flooded his mind: worlds ravaged by war, stars consumed in fire, and figures cloaked in shadow, their eyes watching him, endless and unblinking. He saw himself standing on mountains of bones, Veilsunder raised high, an instrument of destruction.
And then he felt it—a vast, engulfing presence that filled the void. The Blood Eternal itself, a force as ancient as the stars, reached out to touch him.
His mind was overwhelmed with the deep, booming voice, "You have done well, Maraak." "By reaping the souls of thousands in my name, you have fed the blade that keeps you together. But now your inner strength is greater than mere obedience. You have the essence of a god, the soul of Voraak. You are more than just my servant now. You're a vessel.
Maraak felt the weight of that declaration, and his body stiffened. "I am nobody's ship," he growled. "I have authority. I am not its slave.
The tone of the Blood Eternal darkened to one of laughter. However, Maraak, power is what links you to me. As long as you hold that blade in your hands and desire the souls it consumes, you are mine. But I give you a choice: fully embrace the darkness, harness the power of Voraak, and you will soar to unimaginable heights. Or resist it and allow it to take over.
For a moment, Maraak was silent. He felt Voraak's fragment writhing within him, its will pressing against his own, a poison that threatened to erode his mind. But he also felt the weight of every soul he had taken, each kill that had brought him closer to strength. If he could harness this power, he could rise beyond anything he had ever dreamed.
"I accept," he murmured, his voice a low growl. "I'll take this power and make it mine."
The Blood Eternal's laughter filled the chamber, resonating through his mind. "Then go forth, Blood Reaver. Embrace your fate, and know that there are no limits for those who walk my path. The cosmos is filled with souls, each one a step to ultimate dominion."
The visions faded, and Maraak found himself back in the chamber, hand resting on the crystal. Veilsunder trembled in his grip, pulsing with renewed hunger.
He left the Spire, his steps heavy with new purpose. He was more than a reaper now; he was a harbinger. The path ahead was dark, but Maraak no longer feared the shadows. They were his allies, his cloak, and his legacy.
As he returned to his ship, he felt Voraak's presence stir one final time, a faint whisper of rage that was quickly silenced. Veilsunder's whispers rose, pleased, and the blade's hunger melded with his own.
There were other worlds, other gods, and an eternity of souls waiting to be claimed.