The moment Zami crossed the threshold of the Withering Spire, a shift occurred. The air grew colder, denser, and heavy with an unnatural energy that clung to his skin. He took a step forward, his boots echoing in the vast emptiness around him.
Suddenly, a chain reaction ignited. One by one, the unlit lanterns and torches lining the colossal chamber flared to life, each bursting with an ethereal white flame. The light danced wildly, casting sharp shadows across the towering walls and high ceilings, which disappeared into darkness above.
The room was massive, unlike anything Zami had ever seen before. It felt more like an ancient cathedral than the interior of a tower. Rows of cracked, marble-like pillars extended endlessly in both directions, their surfaces engraved with spiraling, alien symbols similar to those on the gate. The floor beneath him was smooth and reflective, made of black stone streaked with faint veins of glowing white, resembling a frozen river of starlight.
Zami paused, his silver eyes scanning his surroundings, every sense heightened. He couldn't help but feel that the Spire itself was alive, watching his every move. The silence was deafening, broken only by the faint crackle of the white flames and the soft hum of energy emanating from the very walls.
Karesh spoke, his voice cutting through the oppressive stillness.
"This place is old," he murmured, his tone laced with unease. "It holds power—ancient, twisted power. Be wary, Zami. The Dominion will not welcome you."
Zami gripped his katana tightly, his knuckles whitening.
"I didn't expect a welcome," he muttered under his breath, his voice low and steady.
He ventured deeper into the chamber, his movements cautious but purposeful. Every step echoed ominously, and the farther he went, the more he felt the oppressive weight of the Spire pressing down on him. It was as though the tower was testing him, probing his resolve.
At the center of the massive room stood a raised platform, its surface engraved with runes that pulsed faintly in rhythm with the flames. Above it hung a colossal, circular symbol etched into the ceiling, faintly illuminated by the white light. It resembled a fractured, distorted version of the vessels' marks he had seen before, radiating an aura of malevolence.
Zami's eyes narrowed as he approached the platform. He felt a tug at the edge of his mind, a faint whisper that was almost too quiet to discern. It wasn't Karesh—it was something else, something tied to the Spire.
"What is this place?" Zami asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.
Karesh was silent for a moment before answering.
"A threshold," he said gravely. "A place where the barrier between realms grows thin. This tower… it's a gateway, and Shattered Dominion is its keeper."
Zami clenched his jaw, the enormity of the Spire's purpose settling heavily on his shoulders. If the Withering Spire truly was a gateway, then the battle ahead would not merely be against the vessel—it would be against the tower itself.
Taking a deep breath, Zami stepped onto the platform, the runes glowing brighter as he did. He didn't know what awaited him at the heart of the Spire, but one thing was certain: there was no turning back now.