The night sky above the Ruined Forge was fractured—its once-unwavering canvas of stars now flickering like dying embers. Something was wrong. Something beyond the physical realm.
Ashen Sky stood at the heart of the battlefield, the shattered remains of Malric the Hollow Flame at his feet. The Hollow Crown, once a symbol of tyranny and immortality, lay in fragments, its dark power vanquished. But even in victory, the fire inside Ashen refused to settle.
The Infernal Forge burned hotter than ever, surging within his core, whispering to him in a voice both ancient and familiar.
A weapon must be forged.
The world had not been saved.
It was merely waiting to be remade.
---
Echoes of the Past, Whispers of the Void
Elyndra Vale was the first to break the silence, stepping beside Ashen, her grip firm on Moonveil. The battle had left its marks—cuts along her arms, her once-pristine armor marred by blood and dust—but her presence remained unshaken.
"You saw it, didn't you?" she asked, her voice quieter than usual.
Ashen nodded, his fingers tightening around the hilt of Emberfang, the blade still humming with the energy of fallen warriors. "The Chain of Eternity is breaking."
Joran Ironfist let out a heavy sigh, his massive form looming like an unmovable mountain. His shattered war hammer, Titanbreaker, rested against his shoulder. "Damn it, Ashen. I thought taking down Malric was the hard part."
Vael Shadowmark chuckled from where he leaned against a fallen statue. His Obsidian Fang twirled effortlessly between his fingers, but his usual smirk lacked amusement. "When is it ever that simple?"
Ashen turned back to the battlefield. The shadowed figure he had seen before—a being of void and whispers—was gone. But its words still coiled around his mind like a viper.
"The Hollow Crown was a seal, child. And you destroyed it."
He had thought killing Malric would end this war. Instead, it had only unlocked something far worse.
---
A Rift Between Worlds
The air shifted.
The embers scattered across the battlefield flickered—not from wind, but from something unseen, a ripple in the fabric of reality itself.
Then, a tear opened in the sky.
A jagged, black wound, stretching across the heavens, pulsating with an otherworldly energy. The land trembled beneath their feet as something ancient and unknowable stirred.
From within the darkness, a voice spoke, neither male nor female, neither kind nor cruel.
"The Forge has awakened. The final weapon must be shaped."
Elyndra's breath hitched. "Tell me that's not coming from inside you."
Ashen exhaled slowly, closing his eyes for a moment. The Forge was speaking.
It was no longer just a power within him.
It had become a presence—a will that stretched beyond time itself.
---
The Pilgrimage to the Last Forge
Ashen turned to his companions, his voice steady. "I know where we need to go."
Joran crossed his arms. "Let me guess. Somewhere incredibly dangerous?"
"The First Forge," Ashen said. "The one where all weapons were first created. The place where the gods themselves once shaped the fate of the heavens."
Vael's eyes darkened. "That's a myth. No one knows where it is."
"The Forge knows," Ashen replied, placing his hand over his chest. "And now, so do I."
Elyndra frowned. "And you're just going to listen? What if this is a trap? What if the Forge isn't what you think it is?"
Ashen met her gaze. "What if I don't have a choice?"
The wind howled around them, and for a moment, none of them spoke.
Then, Joran sighed, rolling his shoulders. "If this is how we die, at least it'll be spectacular."
Vael chuckled. "I'll admit, I'm curious to see how this ends."
Elyndra's lips pressed into a thin line before she finally nodded. "Then we do this together."
---
The Journey into the Unknown
They traveled for three days.
Through broken lands where the sky wept embers. Across rivers of blackened steel, where the echoes of fallen warriors still lingered in the rusted armor beneath the water's surface.
Every night, Ashen felt the Forge's call growing stronger.
He dreamed of flames hotter than the sun, of an anvil carved from the bones of titans. He dreamed of a weapon that should not exist.
And each morning, as they pressed forward, he could feel the weight of destiny pressing against his chest.
Until, finally, they stood before it.
The First Forge.
A colossal structure, buried deep within the heart of a forgotten mountain. Its walls were carved with ancient sigils, glowing faintly as if they remembered the touch of divine hands. The great anvil in its center pulsed with a heartbeat that did not belong to the living.
And waiting for them in the shadows—
Was something else.
---
The Keeper of the Forge
A figure stepped forward, emerging from the depths of the ancient chamber. It was not human, not entirely, its form shifting like molten metal. Its face was hidden beneath a hood woven from threads of time itself.
It spoke with a voice like a dying fire.
"You have come to finish what was started."
Ashen met its gaze, feeling the weight of something far older than Malric, older than the Void itself.
"I've come to forge a weapon," he said. "The last one."
The Keeper tilted its head. "A weapon is not just steel and fire, child. It is intent. It is sacrifice. Are you willing to give what must be given?"
A cold dread settled in Ashen's chest.
"What price?"
The Keeper raised a hand, and suddenly, Ashen saw—
Flashes of what could be.
A blade capable of sealing the Void forever, but at the cost of his own soul.
A weapon of pure annihilation, one that would render all cultivators powerless, resetting the world to before cultivation ever existed.
A sword that would make him a god—but at the cost of his humanity.
The Forge did not demand metal.
It demanded him.
---
The Choice That Would Shape the World
Ashen took a step forward, placing his hand on the ancient anvil.
He could feel it.
The power.
The final forge, waiting to be shaped.
Elyndra stepped forward, her voice quiet but firm. "Ashen… whatever you choose, we're with you."
Joran nodded. "But don't forget who you are."
Vael simply smirked. "Try not to burn down existence, will you?"
Ashen exhaled, gripping Emberfang tightly.
This was it.
The moment everything had led to.
The choice that could not be undone.
He raised his hammer—
And struck the anvil.
The world shattered.