Night fell over the Astor estate, wrapping the grand halls and lush gardens in an ominous silence. Shadows pooled in every corner, as if the darkness itself was alive. Vincent—or rather, Adrian—waited until the last flicker of candlelight disappeared from the windows of the mansion. Only when he was sure no one would disturb him did he don a dark cloak and slip out into the night.
The air outside was cold and damp, the kind that clung to your skin and sent chills down your spine. Adrian pulled the cloak tighter around his shoulders as he made his way through the estate's sprawling grounds. His destination was clear: the Obsidian Sanctum, a temple of immense power buried deep within the Evernight Forest.
He moved with purpose, his steps silent on the damp earth. Despite the chill, sweat clung to his skin. He wasn't just nervous—he was terrified. The memory of Vincent's failed summoning loomed large in his mind. In the game, this ritual was a turning point, a desperate act of defiance that only sealed Vincent's doom. But Adrian wasn't Vincent, and he had an advantage: knowledge of what went wrong.
The forest loomed ahead, its towering pines swaying gently in the breeze. Their needles whispered against one another, an eerie symphony that set Adrian's teeth on edge. Somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted, its mournful cry punctuated by the rustle of unseen creatures in the underbrush.
Adrian hesitated at the forest's edge. "This is it" he muttered under his breath, steeling his resolve. Then, without another thought, he plunged into the darkness.
The Evernight Forest was unnervingly silent. No birds, no insects—only the crunch of his boots on fallen leaves and the distant sigh of the wind. The further he ventured, the thicker the shadows became until even the moonlight was swallowed whole. But Adrian knew the way. He had programmed this forest himself, down to the smallest detail. He followed a winding, overgrown path until finally, the temple came into view.
The Obsidian Sanctum was a monolith of black stone, its surface glistening as if perpetually wet. Runes carved into its surface pulsed faintly, casting an otherworldly glow that illuminated the dense fog curling around its base. The entrance—a massive archway shaped like a dragon's gaping maw—loomed ahead, exhaling tendrils of shadowy mist.
Adrian's breath caught. Despite knowing what awaited him, the sheer presence of the temple was overwhelming. The air was heavier here, charged with an energy that made the hairs on his arms stand on end. He stepped forward, his boots crunching on the gravel path, and passed beneath the archway.
Inside, the air was damp and stifling, carrying the acrid tang of blood and decay. The walls of the sanctum seemed alive, shimmering with an unsettling, organic quality. At the center of the room was the altar, a massive circular slab of stone etched with intricate patterns and surrounded by deep grooves meant to catch blood.
Adrian swallowed hard. This was where it would happen. The Summoning of the Sovereigns was one of the most dangerous rituals in the game, but also one of the most powerful. The risks were high—failure meant death or worse—but success could change everything.
He approached the altar, his hands trembling as he retrieved a ceremonial dagger resting at its center. The blade was unnaturally cold, its blackened steel etched with runes that pulsed faintly in the dim light. Adrian's reflection stared back at him from the blade's polished surface, his violet eyes wide with determination—and fear.
"No turning back now," he whispered.
Taking a deep breath, Adrian pressed the dagger to his palm and drew it across in one swift motion. The pain was sharp and immediate, but he didn't flinch. Blood welled up, dripping onto the altar and filling the carved grooves. The runes on the altar flared to life, bathing the chamber in an eerie crimson glow.
He began to chant, his voice echoing off the walls. The words came naturally, even though they weren't his own:
"By my life and my will, I summon thee, Sovereigns of Eternity. Answer my call, gods who slumber beyond the veil. Bind yourselves to this mortal vessel, and grant me your strength!"
The air around him thickened, vibrating with a low hum that grew louder with each passing second. The ground beneath his feet trembled, and the temperature in the room plummeted. A blinding light erupted from the altar, forcing Adrian to shield his eyes. He felt a searing pain in his chest, like a brand pressed against his skin.
When the light subsided, Adrian staggered back, gasping for air. His heart pounded wildly as he tore open his shirt to inspect his chest. There, just above his heart, four faintly glowing stars had appeared, their light pulsating in time with his heartbeat.
Suddenly, a deep, guttural voice resonated in his mind.
"Mortal… you have awakened me."
Adrian spun around, his eyes widening as a colossal figure materialized before him. A dragon, its scales shimmering like liquid amethyst, filled the chamber with its immense presence. Its eyes burned with an unholy fire, and its wings stretched wide, casting flickering shadows across the walls.
"Vysindras," Adrian breathed, barely able to speak.
The dragon lowered its massive head, its eyes narrowing as it regarded him. "You dare summon me?" it rumbled, its voice shaking the very air. "Bold… and foolish. What do you seek, mortal?"
Adrian forced himself to stand tall, ignoring the trembling in his limbs. "I seek your strength," he said. "Not to destroy, but to change my fate."
Vysindras let out a low, rumbling laugh. "Do you understand the price of such power? My flames—Vysindras' Oath—will consume you as you are now. Your body is fragile, unworthy of my strength. But if you survive… if you prove yourself, I may lend you my power."
Adrian nodded, his resolve unwavering. "I'll survive."
The dragon's form shimmered, collapsing into a swirling vortex of violet flames that surged into Adrian's chest. Pain lanced through him as the stars on his skin burned brighter, their light briefly illuminating the chamber. Then, just as quickly as it began, the pain subsided.
Adrian collapsed to his knees, panting. He could feel Vysindras now—a presence in the back of his mind, watchful and waiting. But this was only the beginning. The power he had sought came with immense risks and limitations. Vysindras' Oath could burn through anything, but it would also burn through him if he wasn't careful.
As the room fell silent once more, Adrian pushed himself to his feet. His body ached, but he wasn't done yet. The summoning was only the first step. Now came the engraving of the Vritas Runes.
---