The journey from the monolith was marked by a heavy silence, broken only by the soft crunch of their boots against the uneven ground. The shard and sphere pulsed faintly in Vero's possession, their light subdued but ever-present. Levin occasionally glanced at them but said nothing, his expression unreadable.
The plains stretched endlessly before them, the shifting colors of the sky casting long, distorted shadows. Ruins loomed in the distance—some broken and forgotten, others standing defiantly against time.
Vero's mind was a storm of thoughts. The Sentinel's trial had left him with more questions than answers. The figure he had faced—the one that seemed to know him better than he knew himself—had whispered truths he couldn't fully grasp. The word "Veredian" echoed in his mind, a fragment of a puzzle that refused to fit.
Levin finally broke the silence. "So, are we going to talk about what happened back there? Or are you planning to keep brooding until we stumble into the next death trap?"
Vero glanced at him, his expression thoughtful. "What do you want to know?"
Levin shrugged, his usual smirk making a brief appearance. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe why you were glowing like a festival lantern? Or why the big scary Sentinel seemed so eager to let you play hero?"
"I'm not a hero," Vero said quietly.
"Could've fooled me," Levin muttered. "Look, I get it. You've got the shard, the sphere, and now some weird memory orb. You're special. But I've been in this game long enough to know that 'special' usually comes with a price. So, what's yours?"
Vero hesitated. He hadn't considered the cost of his journey—not fully. The shard had chosen him, but for what purpose? And what would it demand of him in return?
"I don't know," he admitted.
Levin snorted. "Well, that's comforting. Guess we'll just keep walking and hope the next glowing thing doesn't try to kill us."
---
As they pressed on, the terrain began to change. The plains gave way to a dense forest of towering, crystalline trees that shimmered with an otherworldly light. The air grew colder, and the sound of distant whispers carried on the wind, too faint to decipher.
Levin shivered, his hand resting on the hilt of his dagger. "I don't like this place. Feels like we're being watched."
Vero nodded, his senses on high alert. The forest was unnervingly quiet, the usual sounds of wildlife replaced by the faint hum of energy emanating from the trees.
They moved cautiously, their footsteps muffled by the soft, moss-like growth covering the ground. The shard's glow became more pronounced, casting faint shadows that danced eerily among the trees.
"Why is it glowing more?" Levin asked, his voice low.
Vero shook his head. "I'm not sure. But it's not random. The shard reacts to... something. Maybe it senses danger."
"Great," Levin muttered. "Just what we need—another warning system that doesn't come with instructions."
---
They came to a clearing where the trees formed a natural archway, their crystalline branches interlocking overhead. In the center of the clearing stood a stone altar, its surface covered in ancient runes that glowed faintly in the dim light.
The shard's glow intensified, and the whispers in the air grew louder, as though urging them forward.
Vero approached the altar cautiously, the sphere in his hand vibrating slightly. He placed the shard and sphere on the altar, and the runes flared to life, their light filling the clearing.
Levin took a step back, his daggers drawn. "Uh, Vero? I've got a bad feeling about this."
Before Vero could respond, the air around them shimmered, and a figure materialized atop the altar. Unlike the Sentinel, this figure was smaller and more human-like, its form composed of shifting shadows and flickering light.
"Bearer of the shard," the figure said, its voice a mix of anger and sorrow. "You walk a path of ruin. Do you understand the destruction you leave in your wake?"
Vero frowned, stepping closer. "I don't understand. What destruction?"
The figure's form shifted, its edges blurring. "The shard is not a gift. It is a burden—a weapon forged from the Echo's deepest scars. Every step you take brings you closer to a truth that should remain hidden."
Levin stepped forward, his daggers glinting in the light. "All right, shadow guy, enough with the cryptic warnings. If you've got something to say, spit it out."
The figure turned its gaze to Levin, and for a moment, the air seemed to freeze. "And you, the watcher who hides behind jest. You think yourself immune to the Echo's pull, but you are wrong. Your fate is bound to his."
Levin's smirk faltered, replaced by a look of unease. "Yeah, well, I didn't sign up for this, so maybe let me go my own way?"
The figure ignored him, its attention returning to Vero. "The shard is both your salvation and your undoing. To wield it is to invite betrayal, for those you trust will turn against you, and the truth you seek will demand a price you cannot pay."
Vero's chest tightened. "Who are you? And why are you telling me this?"
The figure's form flickered, its edges dissolving into light. "I am a fragment of what was lost. Heed my warning, bearer, for the path you walk is treacherous. Trust sparingly, and question everything."
With those final words, the figure vanished, and the light from the altar faded, leaving Vero and Levin standing in the dim glow of the shard.
---
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Levin was the first to break the silence, his voice unusually subdued. "So... that was cheerful. Got any brilliant ideas on what to do next?"
Vero picked up the shard and sphere, his mind racing. The figure's warning had shaken him, but it had also strengthened his resolve. He didn't know what lay ahead, but he couldn't afford to hesitate.
"We keep going," he said firmly. "The next pillar, the next fragment—it's the only way forward."
Levin sighed, sheathing his daggers. "Of course it is. Lead the way, shard-boy. Let's see how much worse this can get."
As they left the clearing, the whispers in the air grew softer, fading into the distance. But Vero couldn't shake the feeling that the figure's warning would haunt him for a long time to come.