**
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Sora sat motionless on the floor of the temple, his hands resting on the cold stone beneath him. The pulse had settled within him, no longer a raging torrent but a steady rhythm, like the heartbeat of the universe itself. His thoughts were clouded, still reeling from the battle with the Keeper, the overwhelming surge of power that had nearly consumed him. But now, in the aftermath, the pulse felt different—calmer, as though it recognized him as its conductor, its chosen vessel.
The chamber around him was silent, the faint glow from the altar casting long shadows across the walls. The Keeper's presence had dissolved, leaving only the quiet hum of the pulse behind. But Sora knew that the battle was far from over. The Keepers might have been driven back, but their influence was far-reaching. They would not stop until the pulse was sealed away forever, kept hidden from those who sought to understand it.
Sora stood up slowly, his body aching from the energy he had just absorbed. He felt different now, changed in ways he couldn't fully comprehend. The pulse had left its mark on him, not just physically but spiritually. He could feel its rhythm in every fiber of his being, its power flowing through him like a current he could no longer ignore.
*"We must leave,"* the ship's voice broke through his thoughts, sharp and insistent. *"The Keepers will not relent. They will send more forces to reclaim the pulse. We are no longer safe here."*
Sora nodded, his resolve hardening. He knew that staying on Nyxaris would be a mistake. He had to move—fast. The Keepers would not stop until they had regained control of the pulse, and the knowledge it contained. But where would he go? What was the next step in this journey? He didn't have all the answers, but he knew one thing for certain: he had to keep moving forward.
The ship hummed in agreement, its systems powering up as the ship's landing gear retracted. The walls of the temple, once vibrant with the pulse's energy, were now quiet, drained of their life force. But Sora knew that he could not linger. There was still so much left to uncover, so many pieces of the puzzle that were missing.
As he made his way back to the airlock, he glanced one last time at the altar. The pulse had not abandoned him—it had chosen him. He could feel it now, guiding him, urging him to move toward something greater, something beyond the temple and the ruins of Nyxaris. The first temple had been only the beginning, a fragment of a larger mystery that stretched across the stars.
With a final breath, Sora stepped into the airlock, the door sliding shut behind him. The ship's engines roared to life, and the vessel lifted off the ground, breaking through the atmosphere of Nyxaris. The nebula surrounding the planet seemed to pulse with an eerie glow as they ascended, but Sora did not look back. There was nothing left for him here.
The stars outside the ship's windows were distant, but their light called to him, a beacon of hope in the infinite darkness of space. His heart quickened, the pulse inside him matching the rhythm of the cosmos, as if the universe itself was waiting for him to unlock its secrets.
*"Where are we going?"* Sora asked, his voice steady despite the uncertainty that lingered in his mind.
*"I have analyzed the data from the pulse,"* the ship responded. *"There is another temple—one that holds more answers. It is located on a world known as Xantheon. Its coordinates are already programmed. The pulse's energy is strongest there, but it is also a place of great danger. The Keepers will be on high alert. We must reach it before they do."*
Sora's gaze hardened. Xantheon. He had heard whispers of it—an ancient world, rich in both mystery and power, a place where the pulse had once been worshipped as a divine force. But the whispers also spoke of its destruction, of a catastrophic event that had torn the planet apart. If the Keepers were drawn to Xantheon, it could only mean one thing: they were desperate to reclaim the pulse, to control it before it could fall into the hands of those who would use it for their own ends.
*"How long will it take to reach Xantheon?"* Sora asked, his mind racing with possibilities.
*"Approximately four days,"* the ship answered. *"But we must remain vigilant. The Keepers may already be on their way, and their forces are vast. We cannot afford to be caught unprepared."*
Sora nodded, his eyes scanning the stars outside the ship. Four days. He had time—barely. But it was enough. He had learned to trust the ship's guidance, and if the pulse was leading him to Xantheon, then that was where he would go. But he couldn't ignore the nagging feeling in the back of his mind. There was something about Xantheon, something he couldn't quite place, that made him uneasy.
As the ship cut through the vastness of space, Sora's thoughts drifted back to the pulse. He had felt its power, had seen the truth it held within its song. But there was still so much he didn't understand. The architects had created it, but for what purpose? Why had they buried it on forgotten worlds, hidden away in temples and ruins? And what role did he play in all of this?
Sora didn't have all the answers, but he knew that he couldn't turn back. The pulse was calling him, and he had to follow its rhythm to its end. Whatever awaited him on Xantheon, he would face it. The Keepers might have been powerful, but they were not the only ones who understood the pulse. He had learned that much during his time with the ship. The pulse was a living force, and if anyone could unlock its secrets, it was him.
As the ship sailed through the stars, Sora closed his eyes and let the pulse's rhythm wash over him. It was more than just energy now. It was part of him, and he was part of it. He didn't know what the future held, but he knew one thing for sure: the journey was far from over.
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