The first light of dawn spilled over the mountains, casting long shadows across the jagged terrain. The temple loomed in the distance, its outline sharp and ominous against the pale sky. Kiran and Drayk broke camp silently, the tension between them as heavy as the mountain air.
"Stay alert," Drayk warned as they started their ascent. "The closer we get, the more unstable things will become."
"Unstable how?" Kiran asked, gripping his machete tightly.
"You'll see," Drayk muttered, scanning the path ahead.
The climb was treacherous. Loose rocks shifted underfoot, and the fog seemed to thicken unnaturally as they neared the temple. Kiran couldn't shake the feeling that the mountain itself was alive, watching them with unseen eyes.
The sigil on his wrist pulsed faintly, a steady rhythm that seemed to guide his steps. He stumbled once, narrowly avoiding a sharp drop, and Drayk caught him by the arm.
"Focus," Drayk snapped. "The Key might be helping you, but it won't save you from stupidity."
Kiran glared at him but bit back a retort. Instead, he focused on the sigil's rhythm, using it to steady his breathing and calm his nerves.
As they climbed higher, the air grew colder, and the wind carried strange sounds—low whispers that seemed to come from nowhere.
"Do you hear that?" Kiran asked, glancing around nervously.
Drayk nodded, his expression grim. "Residual echoes. The temple's been exposed to the rift for centuries. The energy leaves… imprints."
"Imprints of what?"
Drayk didn't answer, and Kiran decided he didn't want to know.
The whispers grew louder as they reached the temple's entrance, a massive archway carved into the mountainside. The stone was ancient, covered in glowing runes that shifted and writhed as if alive.
"This is it," Drayk said, his voice low. "Stay close."
They stepped inside, the air immediately cooler and heavier. The interior of the temple was vast, its walls lined with more shifting runes. Pillars stretched toward a ceiling that disappeared into darkness, and the faint hum of energy filled the air.
The sigil on Kiran's wrist flared brightly, its light illuminating the chamber.
"It's reacting," Kiran said, holding up his arm.
Drayk nodded, his eyes scanning the room. "The Key recognizes this place. It was probably forged here—or somewhere like it."
"Forged?" Kiran echoed.
Drayk opened his mouth to reply but froze, his hand going to his blade. "We're not alone."
The shadows shifted, and a low growl echoed through the chamber. From the darkness emerged a massive creature, its body a chaotic mass of Rift energy. It had no clear form, its shape constantly shifting as if reality itself couldn't contain it.
"What is that?" Kiran whispered, his heart pounding.
"A Rift Warden," Drayk said, drawing his blade. "Guardians left behind to protect places like this. It sees us as a threat."
"Great," Kiran muttered, raising his machete. "What do we do?"
"Survive," Drayk said, charging forward.
The Warden roared, its form expanding as it lashed out with tendrils of energy. Drayk dodged the first strike, his blade slicing through one of the tendrils, though the creature barely seemed to notice.
Kiran hesitated, the sigil on his wrist pulsing erratically. He could feel the Key urging him forward, but fear rooted him in place.
"Kiran!" Drayk shouted, narrowly avoiding another attack. "Snap out of it!"
Taking a deep breath, Kiran focused on the sigil. The energy surged through him, and he charged at the Warden, his machete glowing with Rift power. He slashed at the creature, the strike leaving a searing wound that pulsed with light.
The Warden howled, its form convulsing as it turned its full attention to Kiran.
"Bad idea," Kiran muttered, backing away.
The creature lunged, and Kiran barely managed to dodge, the force of the attack sending him sprawling. Drayk seized the opportunity, driving his blade into the Warden's side.
"Kiran!" Drayk yelled. "Focus your energy! The Key can disrupt it!"
Kiran scrambled to his feet, raising his arm. The sigil flared brightly, and he felt the energy build to a crescendo. A beam of light shot from his wrist, striking the Warden and freezing it in place.
"Now!" Drayk shouted, delivering a final, devastating blow.
The Warden let out a deafening roar before dissolving into particles, its energy dissipating into the air.
Kiran collapsed to his knees, his body trembling from the effort.
"You did good," Drayk said, helping him up. "But don't get cocky. That was just the beginning."
"Beginning of what?" Kiran asked, his voice shaky.
Drayk gestured toward the far end of the chamber, where a massive doorway stood, its runes glowing faintly. "The temple's heart. That's where we'll find answers."
Kiran swallowed hard, the sigil on his wrist pulsing as if in anticipation.
"Let's get this over with," he muttered, following Drayk toward the doorway.
As they stepped through the door, the air grew heavier, and the hum of energy became deafening. The room beyond was circular, with a pedestal in the center. On it rested an object that pulsed with the same light as Kiran's sigil—a shard of crystalline energy, floating above the pedestal.
"That's it," Drayk said, his voice reverent. "A Rift Core. The source of the temple's power."
Kiran approached cautiously, the sigil on his wrist glowing brighter with each step. As he reached out to touch the Core, the whispers returned, louder this time, forming words he could almost understand.
"Kiran, be careful," Drayk warned, but it was too late.
The moment Kiran's hand touched the Core, the world shifted. The room dissolved into darkness, and Kiran found himself standing in a void, surrounded by flickering images of other worlds.
"Bearer of the Key," a voice echoed, deep and resonant. "You stand at the threshold of destiny. Will you embrace your role, or will you fall as others have before you?"
Kiran swallowed, his heart pounding. "Who are you?"
The voice didn't answer. Instead, the void began to collapse, the images spinning faster and faster until Kiran felt like he was being torn apart.
And then, everything went black.