A Fateful Choice
Ascaris screamed as the Shard's energy surged into him, his body glowing with an unnatural light. The power was too much, tearing him apart even as it rebuilt him. His skin cracked, his veins glowing, and his voice became a distorted roar.
Kael knew what he had to do.
"Mira," he said, his voice calm but firm. "Get out of here."
"What? No, you can't—"
"Go!" he barked, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Mira hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. She disappeared into the shadows, leaving Kael alone with the Shard and the monster that Ascaris was becoming.
Kael stepped forward, the whispers growing deafening. The Shard's light enveloped him, and for a brief moment, the world seemed to freeze.
He saw visions—of cities rising from ashes, of green fields spreading across the wastelands, of people thriving under his protection. He saw himself, not as a man, but as a god, shaping the future with a mere thought.
But he also saw the cost: fire consuming the skies, oceans boiling, and the cries of those crushed under the weight of his power.
"You could save them," the Shard whispered. "Or you could destroy them all."
Kael's grip tightened on his blade.
"I don't need your power," he said through gritted teeth.
With a roar, he raised his weapon and brought it down on the Shard.
The chamber exploded in light and sound, the force of the impact tearing through the temple and sending shockwaves across the mountain.
When the light faded, Kael was on his knees, his blade shattered, and the Shard reduced to a pile of glowing fragments.
Ascaris was gone—his body obliterated by the artifact's destruction. The temple groaned and began to collapse around him, but Kael didn't move.
He'd won, but at what cost?