**
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The stars blurred into streaks of light as the ship hurtled through the void. Sora sat in the cockpit, his hands gripping the controls, his mind racing with the journey ahead. Xantheon was close now, its coordinates locked in. The ship's hum resonated through the floor, a constant reminder of the pulse's power, still surging within him. It had become an extension of him, a part of his very being—one he could neither ignore nor control fully.
*"We are approaching the outskirts of Xantheon's orbit,"* the ship's voice broke through his thoughts, calm but with an undercurrent of urgency. *"I am detecting anomalies in the planet's atmosphere. The pulse's energy is unstable here. We must be cautious."*
Sora nodded. Xantheon was a place steeped in mystery, and if the pulse had chosen this world to reveal its secrets, there was no telling what dangers awaited. His heart thudded in his chest, but he pushed the fear down. There was no turning back now. He had come too far.
The planet came into view, a once-beautiful world now scarred by its violent past. Great cracks ran across its surface, visible even from space—remnants of a cataclysmic event that had shattered the world's once-thriving civilization. Ancient cities, long forgotten by time, littered the planet's surface, their skeletal remains buried under layers of dust and debris. But there, amid the ruins, was something else—something Sora couldn't explain, something calling out to him.
*"There,"* Sora murmured, his eyes narrowing as he spotted the faint glow near the planet's surface. A subtle pulse of light, barely perceptible, flickering in time with the rhythm inside him. It was coming from an ancient temple, buried deep within one of the shattered continents. The pulse was strongest there, and that was where he needed to go.
*"I have adjusted course,"* the ship's voice replied. *"Landing in the nearest clearing in five minutes. Prepare for descent."*
Sora braced himself, his fingers lightly touching the pulse embedded within his chest. He could feel it reacting to the ship's approach, its power thrumming in sync with the vessel's own energy. This was it. This was the moment that everything had been leading up to. He could feel the answers waiting just beyond the horizon.
As the ship descended through the planet's thick atmosphere, the ship's systems flickered momentarily, a strange interference scrambling the data. The atmosphere was unstable, charged with energy from the pulse itself. Sora's heart raced as the ground grew nearer, the remnants of ancient stone structures becoming more distinct in the light. The ship touched down gently, the landing gear crunching against the dry earth.
*"We have arrived,"* the ship said. *"Proceed with caution. There are traces of energy residue—likely from the pulse's previous use."*
Sora stood and made his way toward the airlock, the tension in the air palpable. He could sense something was wrong, something just out of his reach. The world outside seemed still, too still. No wind, no movement—just the silence of a planet long forgotten. Yet the pulse called to him, its rhythm vibrating deep within him, urging him to step outside and uncover its secrets.
As the airlock doors opened, Sora stepped out onto the barren ground of Xantheon, the air thin but breathable. He took a deep breath, his senses heightened. The planet felt alive, its energies swirling in the air, as though the land itself was waiting for him to unlock its mysteries.
The temple loomed ahead, a structure of massive stone columns and shattered walls, half-buried in the dust of centuries. It was a marvel of ancient architecture, but its grandeur had long since faded. The pulse's glow was stronger here, its rhythm clearer in the quiet. It was undeniable now—this was the heart of the world, the source of Xantheon's ancient power.
Sora approached the temple, his footsteps crunching on the cracked earth. As he drew closer, a sudden wave of energy washed over him, and he froze. It was the pulse, but it was different. Darker, more erratic, like a distorted echo of the song he had been following. It sent a shiver through his spine.
*"What is this?"* Sora whispered, looking around. The pulse within him responded, thrumming in time with the energy that surrounded him. The temple was alive, pulsing in unison with the rhythm that had guided him across the stars. But something was wrong. It was as if the pulse had been twisted, corrupted by something darker.
The ship's voice crackled through the comms. *"Sora, you need to be careful. There are traces of something else in the pulse. Something... foreign."*
Sora didn't respond. His eyes were fixed on the entrance to the temple. The door, a massive stone slab, was cracked open slightly, as if inviting him in. But as he stepped forward, he saw it—a figure, cloaked in darkness, standing in the shadows of the temple's archway.
It was a Keeper.
Sora's pulse quickened, the rhythm within him speeding up. He had not expected them to find him here, not so soon. The Keepers had been waiting for him, but how had they gotten here so quickly? He had thought he was the only one who could sense the pulse, the only one who could follow its call.
The Keeper stepped forward, its face obscured by a dark hood, but its eyes glowed with an unnatural light, fierce and cold. It spoke in a voice that echoed like the rumble of thunder.
"You have no idea what you are meddling with, boy," the Keeper said, its voice low and threatening. "This planet—this temple—it is not meant for you. The pulse was never meant to be wielded by someone like you."
Sora's heart raced as the Keeper stepped closer, the air growing colder with every step it took. He could feel the weight of the Keeper's power pressing down on him, the darkness surrounding them both like a suffocating fog.
"I won't let you control it," Sora said, his voice firm despite the fear clawing at him. "The pulse belongs to no one. It is not a tool for destruction. It's a force of creation, and I'll use it to set things right."
The Keeper's lips curled into a smile, though it was devoid of warmth. "You are a fool. The pulse is nothing but a weapon. A song that can tear apart worlds. You cannot control it. You will be consumed by it, just like the architects before you."
Sora's pulse throbbed within him, louder now, as if reacting to the Keeper's words. He could feel the power building within him, the rhythm of the pulse now in perfect harmony with his own heartbeat. The Keeper may have been right about one thing—the pulse could destroy, but it could also heal. And if he could learn to harness its true power, perhaps he could stop the destruction that the Keepers sought to bring.
Without another word, the Keeper lunged, its dark figure moving with unnatural speed, and Sora was thrust into the fight of his life.
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