The Void Nexus had awakened, and the world of the Ebon Starline Clan buzzed with anticipation. For weeks, the anomaly had dominated every council meeting, every whispered conversation, and every ambitious scheme. Now, with the fleet gathered in the skies above Elythar, the culmination of their preparations was at hand.
On the observation platform overlooking the armada, Rynor Valcairn stood with his usual air of nonchalance. The fleet was an impressive sight. Hundreds of golden warships hovered in perfect formation, their hulls gleaming under the distant starlight. Below, cultivators moved in precise ranks, their synchronized energy radiating through the air in waves of heat and light.
He watched silently, his faint smile betraying none of the thoughts that churned behind his dark eyes. A voice cut through the air behind him.
"You shouldn't be here."
Without turning, Rynor recognized his elder brother, Darian. It wasn't just the sharpness of the tone that gave him away—it was the weight of his presence, the quiet hum of authority that accompanied him wherever he went.
"Why not?" Rynor replied, not bothering to look back. "This is a historic event. Surely, I deserve to witness it like everyone else."
Darian stepped forward, his golden aura flaring faintly. He stopped beside Rynor, gazing out at the fleet as if trying to decide whether the view or his brother annoyed him more. "The Void Nexus isn't a stage for games or theatrics. This is serious. Stay out of my way."
Rynor turned slightly, his smile widening. "Games? The thought never crossed my mind. I'm just here to admire your handiwork. A fleet like this—it's almost enough to make me believe you'll succeed."
Darian's jaw tightened. "You'd do well to remember your place, Rynor."
"I always remember my place," Rynor said, his tone light but his gaze unyielding. "The question is, do you?"
Darian gave him one last look before turning away, his robes flowing behind him like a banner. He strode back into the chaos of the platform, issuing orders to the officers and cultivators gathered there. Rynor watched him go, tilting his head slightly.
"Confidence can be such a dangerous thing," he murmured to himself.
The fleet began to ascend soon after. One by one, the ships rose into the sky, their golden hulls glowing as their engines ignited, leaving trails of radiant light in their wake. The cultivators followed, their synchronized movements forming shifting patterns in the air as they vanished into the horizon.
Rynor lingered on the platform, his hands resting lightly on the railing. The departure was a spectacle meant to inspire awe, but all Rynor saw was a meticulously orchestrated gamble. The Void Nexus was a crucible, and everyone entering it would be tested. Whether Darian was prepared for the trial was another matter entirely.
He turned away, the faint echo of energy still resonating in the air as he left the platform.
The palace halls were quieter than usual, the bustle of preparation having died down. Rynor moved through the Eastern Spire with unhurried steps, the faint smile still fixed on his lips. Every now and then, a servant or minor noble passed him in the hall, offering bows and murmured greetings. He returned them all with an easy nod, his outward demeanor relaxed and unbothered.
"Rynor."
The voice stopped him mid-stride. Turning, he saw Ferrin Velroth stepping out of a side corridor. Dressed in crimson robes with his hands clasped behind his back, Ferrin's expression was calm, though his sharp eyes betrayed a flicker of curiosity.
"Ferrin," Rynor said smoothly. "Come to offer me your wisdom, or just enjoying the quiet now that the fleet's gone?"
Ferrin stepped closer, his gaze steady. "I came to see if you're actually staying behind this time."
"Of course I am," Rynor said, spreading his hands. "Darian has everything under control. Why would I need to get involved?"
Ferrin studied him for a moment, then sighed. "You always play this game, pretending you don't care. But you're not fooling me, Rynor. You always have a plan."
Rynor chuckled softly, his expression not shifting in the slightest. "If only everyone saw me the way you do. My reputation might actually improve."
"Don't deflect," Ferrin said, his voice quiet. "Just… be careful. The Nexus isn't like the other games you play. People are going to die."
For the first time, Rynor's smile faltered, though only slightly. He reached out, clapping Ferrin lightly on the shoulder. "I appreciate the concern. Truly. But everything will work out. You'll see."
Ferrin sighed again, shaking his head. "You're impossible."
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Rynor alone in the dim corridor. Rynor's faint smile returned, though there was a sharpness in his eyes now. He resumed his steps, his pace slightly quicker as he moved toward his quarters.
By nightfall, the palace had fallen into stillness. Rynor sat in his chambers for a moment, letting the silence settle around him before rising to his feet. Crossing to the far wall, he pressed his hand against a hidden panel. The door slid open without a sound, revealing a narrow staircase that descended into darkness.
The sanctuary below was a stark contrast to the luxury of the palace above. The walls were bare, etched with glowing glyphs that pulsed faintly with energy. At the center of the room stood a black mirror, its surface rippling like liquid.
"Verath," Rynor said, his voice low.
The glyphs on the floor brightened, and the dark energy coalesced into the spectral form of a hooded figure. Verath bowed deeply, his shadowy presence flickering faintly.
"My lord," Verath said.
"Report."
"Lord Darian's fleet has departed," Verath replied. "Our operatives are in place. They will ensure that no relics fall into the wrong hands."
"And the others?"
"The Abyssal Coalition is mobilizing," Verath said. "The Celestial Dominion remains silent, but their forces are watching closely. The Sovereign Shadows have yet to act, but they are always unpredictable."
Rynor nodded slightly, his gaze fixed on the mirror. "Keep me informed. The Void Nexus will draw them all eventually, but we must stay hidden until the moment is right."
"As you command."
The projection faded, leaving Rynor alone. He stepped closer to the mirror, raising his left arm and pulling back the sleeve to reveal the Abyssal Sigil etched into his skin. The mark pulsed faintly, its dark energy coiling through his veins like smoke.
The curse's presence pressed against his mind, a whispering tide of power and destruction. He regarded it calmly, his thoughts unmoving even as the sigil flared briefly with light.
"Not yet," he murmured. "Not yet."
The shadows around him thickened, closing in like a shroud, but he stood firm, his control unyielding. The silence in the sanctuary deepened as the sigil's light dimmed, leaving only the faint glow of the glyphs.
Rynor turned and ascended the staircase, the faint scent of incense meeting him as he returned to his chambers. Moving to the balcony, he gazed out at the city below. Elythar stretched endlessly into the distance, its towers glittering under the light of distant stars.
He clasped his hands behind his back, his expression unreadable. The Void Nexus would change everything, and he intended to be ready.