The journey through the Abyssal Spire was far from what Caelum had imagined. The deeper they ventured, the more the air grew thick with malevolent energy. The walls of the spire, once a symbol of hope and power, now felt like a tomb, an ancient graveyard of lost souls. The shifting shadows clung to the stone, whispering in voices long silenced, urging them to turn back.
Caelum's steps were slow, deliberate, as if each one took him further from the man he had once been. The Shadowforge Blade, strapped to his back, hummed with dark energy, its influence growing stronger the closer they came to the heart of the spire. The temptation was constant, a constant tug at his soul, urging him to wield its power to break through the trials ahead.
Lyra, walking just ahead of him, seemed to sense his growing inner turmoil. She didn't turn to face him, but her voice reached him nonetheless. "Caelum, we can't keep going like this. You're losing yourself to the blade. It's too much for you to bear."
He clenched his jaw, fighting the surge of rage that rose within him. He wanted to snap at her, to tell her that she didn't understand—that she couldn't understand what he was going through. But instead, he swallowed his anger, forcing himself to speak calmly.
"I have no choice, Lyra. This is the only way to stop the cult. To stop the Shadow King. You saw what happened at the village. We can't afford to fail."
She stopped in her tracks, turning to face him, her expression a mixture of frustration and sadness. "And what about you, Caelum? What happens when the blade consumes you? What will be left of you then?"
He could feel the heat of her gaze, the weight of her words. He knew she was right. But what was he supposed to do? He had made his choice. There was no going back now.
"I'm doing what needs to be done," Caelum replied, his voice cold, distant. "You knew the risks when you agreed to follow me."
Lyra's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, the air between them crackled with unspoken words. Then, with a soft sigh, she turned away. "I knew the risks, Caelum. But I didn't know it would cost you your soul."
The words cut deeper than any blade ever could, and Caelum felt his resolve crack for just a moment. But he didn't let it show. He couldn't afford to show weakness—not now.
They continued their descent into the spire, their journey growing more perilous with each passing step. The deeper they went, the more the shadows seemed to reach for them, whispering promises of power, of victory. And with each whisper, Caelum felt the pull of the blade grow stronger.