The air in the Vault of Regret was heavy with an oppressive stillness, as though the room itself mourned the events it had held for so long. Coren and Lyra hadn't spoken much since the hologram faded. The weight of what they had seen—what they now knew—pressed down on them like an invisible force.
Coren sat on the edge of the platform, her Holopad clutched tightly in her hands. The holographic map was still displayed, glowing faintly, though the data they had recorded felt far more significant than any map. It was the recording. That moment. The downfall of humanity, encapsulated in an unbearable scream.
"What do we do now?" Coren asked, her voice breaking the silence.
Lyra leaned against the wall, arms crossed, her expression drawn and tense. She stared at nothing in particular, her mind clearly racing. "I don't know," she admitted. "This kind of knowledge… it's dangerous."
"Do we turn it over to the Association?" Coren asked hesitantly. "Let them… decide what to do with it?"
Lyra's lips pressed into a thin line. "You know how the Association works, Coren. If we hand this over, it'll be locked away—maybe forever. They'll decide it's too risky for humanity to know about. And maybe they'd be right."
Coren frowned, her fingers tightening around the Holopad. "But if we don't tell anyone, what was the point of all this? What's the point of digging up the past if we just bury it again?"
"That's the question, isn't it?" Lyra said, her tone sharp with frustration. She pushed off the wall and paced the room. "Do we let the world know? Do we release it and hope humanity can handle it? Or do we keep it hidden, like the Association would, and decide for ourselves who should know? Do we wait until we have the complete story?"
Coren felt a knot tighten in her stomach. There wasn't a good answer. Every option carried its risks. If they handed the information over to the Fieldwielders Association, it would vanish into bureaucratic secrecy. If they released it publicly, it could spark panic, or worse—chaos. And burying it… that felt like a betrayal of everything they stood for.
"Maybe…" Coren began, her voice hesitant, "maybe we're overthinking this. Maybe the truth is the truth, and people have a right to know it, no matter the consequences."
Lyra stopped pacing and looked at her. "Do they? What if knowing the truth about humanity's downfall breaks people instead of inspiring them? What if it turns into a weapon in the wrong hands? Information like this—it's power, Coren. And power is dangerous. What if we don't know the full truth, look at the assumptions we made about the bodies"
Coren's gaze dropped to the Holopad. "I know," she said softly. "But… what's the alternative? If we don't share it, aren't we just repeating the mistakes of the past?"
Lyra didn't answer immediately. Her jaw clenched as she mulled over Coren's words, the weight of the decision bearing down on her like an unbearable burden.
Lex and Sol floated back into the room, their light subdued, their movements uncharacteristically slow. Coren's eyes followed them, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. For all their knowledge, for all the mysteries they seemed to guard so closely, they never truly explained anything—not when it mattered most.
She clenched her fists, the urge to grab them and demand answers nearly overwhelming. She wanted to know what happened after the recording, why Sol and Lex had left during the most critical part, and why the hologram spoke in riddles instead of giving them the truth.
But she knew it was pointless. Neither of them would talk.
Coren glanced at Lyra and saw the same frustration mirrored in her mentor's expression. Lyra stood stiffly, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her brow furrowed in thought. Coren could tell she was holding herself back, just as Coren was—resisting the urge to interrogate the Companions despite knowing it would yield nothing.
"They'll never tell us, will they?" Coren said softly, breaking the tense silence.
Lyra exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "Not unless they decide we're 'ready,'" she said, the bitterness in her tone unmistakable. "And knowing them, that might be never."
Lex flickered faintly, his red light dimming for a moment as though he had heard her but chose not to respond. Sol, on the other hand, hovered silently at Coren's shoulder, his glow steady and unreadable.
"Why do they always get to decide?" Coren muttered, half to herself. She wasn't expecting an answer.
Sol's light dimmed, almost imperceptibly. "The truth," he said at last, his tone measured, "is not something that can simply be given. It must be uncovered, piece by piece. Understanding comes through the journey, not the answer."
Coren's jaw tightened, her temper flaring. "That's a convenient excuse," she snapped. "You're bound by some accord, aren't you? You can't interfere directly, can you? But Why?"
Sol's silence spoke volumes.
Lyra, who had been pacing the room, stopped abruptly and turned to Lex. "You're just as cryptic as Sol," she said sharply. "You knew what this vault contained. You knew. Why didn't you warn us before we stepped inside?"
Lex's red glow pulsed faintly, his voice quieter than usual. "Because some truths must be experienced to be understood."
Lyra threw up her hands in exasperation. "You sound just like him!"
Coren sighed, running a hand through her hair. She wasn't sure if she was angrier at the Companions for their evasiveness or at herself for expecting a straight answer in the first place.
"We're just pawns in whatever game this is," she said as she stormed off towards the entry.
The two of them finally stepped out of the vault, the sunlight blinding after the dim, sombre interior. Coren shielded her eyes for a moment, her thoughts still swirling with the impossible choice before them.
The Wolfiger, which had been waiting patiently near the entrance, growled low in its throat.
Coren froze. The sound wasn't playful or relaxed—it was a warning.
"Lyra," Coren said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Lyra's head snapped up, her gaze following the Wolfiger's line of sight. Her eyes narrowed as she scanned the surrounding forest, her hand instinctively reaching toward the gauntlet on her arm.
And then she saw them.
Figures emerged from the trees, six in total, clad in the unmistakable black and gold armour of the Fieldwielders Association Enforcers. Each wore a gauntlet similar to Lyra's, but bulkier, modified for combat. Their expressions were hidden behind the reflective visors of their helmets, but their stances were rigid and aggressive.
The leader, a tall figure with a crest marking their rank, stepped forward, their voice amplified by a built-in speaker in their helmet.
"Fieldwielders Lyra Varik and Coren Drax," the Enforcer leader declared, their voice a frigid monotone that cut through the air like a blade. "You are in violation of Association Regulation 12-3.1: Unauthorized interference with a forbidden zone. Hand over all notes, recordings, and artifacts, and prepare to accompany us to Solvix-I for processing."
Coren's stomach twisted as the leader's words sank in. She glanced at Lyra, searching for reassurance, but doubt gnawed at her. Was this a genuine regulation? Or were they being strong-armed into silence? The timing felt far too convenient to be coincidental.
Lyra, however, didn't flinch. She stepped forward, her posture defiant, her voice steady but laced with iron. "I had clearance for this expedition from Commander Sammella herself," she snapped. "The Association doesn't control every dig site, and it certainly doesn't own humanity's history."
The leader's expression didn't waver, their response mechanical. "Your clearance does not extend to this sector. The knowledge within this location is classified, falling under Association jurisdiction. Hand over the data immediately, or we will confiscate it by force."
The other Enforcers shifted subtly, their stances turning predatory. Coren could feel the tension in the air, crackling like a storm about to break. Coren hadn't learned any offensive songs, leaving her feeling vulnerable and unsure how to defend herself against real Enforcers should a fight erupt.
Lyra's voice sharpened, her frustration boiling over. "This isn't about jurisdiction, and you know it! What we've uncovered here belongs to everyone, not just a select few. Do you even understand what's in that vault? Or are you too blind to care about what we've lost?"
The leader stiffened, their tone hardening. "This is your final warning. Comply, or we will use force."
Before Coren could react, one of the Enforcers raised their gauntlet, arcs of energy sparking to life along its surface. Lyra immediately stepped in front of Coren, her stance protective, her voice low and cutting. "Don't," she warned. "You don't want to do this."
The Enforcer hesitated for only a fraction of a second before raising their hand higher, a charge of energy building.
The ground beneath Coren's feet suddenly shimmered as a gate burst open with a blinding flash of light. The force tugged at her body, a sickening, disorienting pull as the Fields twisted around them. The edges of the clearing seemed to ripple like water, and the portal's vortex began to form.
But before the gate could stabilize, a feral roar shattered the moment. The Wolfiger leapt from the shadows, its massive frame colliding with Coren and Lyra, shoving them out of the gate's reach. The ground trembled as the gate collapsed with a final, echoing burst.
Coren hit the ground hard, scrambling to her feet as the Wolfiger planted itself protectively in front of her and Lyra. Its golden-striped fur bristled, and its glowing amber eyes locked onto the Enforcers with a lethal intensity.
The clearing fell deathly silent for a breath before low, guttural growls began to ripple through the forest. From the underbrush, smaller Wolfigers emerged, their sleek, muscular forms moving like shadows among the trees. Their glowing yellow eyes pierced the gloom, each one fixed on the Enforcers. A dozen, maybe more, surrounded the clearing, forming a deadly ring.
"Coren!" Lyra shouted, vaulting onto the back of the larger Wolfiger. "Get on!"
One of the smaller Wolfigers crouched low beside Coren, its piercing gaze urging her forward. She hesitated only for a moment before grabbing a handful of its thick fur and climbing onto its back. The creature rose smoothly, its immense strength barely registering her weight.
The pack leader—Lyra's bonded Wolfiger—let out a bone-chilling howl, and the pack surged forward like a wave. They tore into the clearing, their movements impossibly fast, a blur of claws and fury. The Enforcers raised energy shields, their gauntlets sparking to life as they scrambled to defend themselves. The Wolfigers' relentless assault forced the Enforcers into a frantic retreat, their formations breaking apart under the onslaught.
"Hold on!" Lyra yelled, her Wolfiger bolting into the forest. Coren's mount followed close behind, weaving effortlessly through the trees. The forest blurred around them, the sounds of the battle fading into the distance.
Coren tightened her grip, her heart pounding in her chest as adrenaline surged through her. The Wolfiger's powerful strides felt like they could outrun anything, and for a moment, she allowed herself to believe they might actually escape.
The world became a blur of motion as the Wolfigers sprinted through the dense forest, their powerful limbs propelling them over roots and underbrush with ease. Coren clung tightly to her mount, her heart pounding as the adrenaline coursed through her veins.
Behind them, she could hear the distant sounds of battle—the growls of the Wolfigers, the crackling energy of the Enforcers' gauntlets, and the occasional roar of an explosion.
Lyra glanced over her shoulder, her expression tense but determined. "We can't go back to the base," she called. "They'll find us there!"
"Where do we go?" Coren shouted back.
Lyra didn't answer immediately. Instead, she urged her Wolfiger forward, her gaze scanning the horizon. "We'll figure it out," she said finally, her voice steady despite the chaos.
Coren bit her lip, her mind racing. The Holopad was still in her satchel, the recording and map intact. She thought of the choice they had been debating in the vault—the price of knowledge, the weight of the truth. Now, they didn't even have the luxury of deciding.
For now, all they could do was run.
And run they did.
The Wolfigers seemed tireless, their powerful legs eating up the distance with an almost effortless stride. Coren clung tightly to the thick fur of her mount, the wind rushing past her face as they plunged deeper into the forbidden zone. Her heart still pounded from the chaos they had fled, but as the rhythmic motion of the Wolfiger settled into a steady cadence, she began to notice something unusual.
They were no longer alone.
More creatures began to join their run, emerging from the shadows of the dense forest and the craggy outcroppings of rock that dotted the landscape. Coren blinked in amazement as she tried to make sense of the strange animals.
One was a hulking, feline-like creature with six muscular legs and a long, sinuous tail tipped with what looked like glowing quills. Its fur shimmered in the fading sunlight, rippling with patterns that seemed to mimic the terrain as it moved.
Another resembled a cross between a deer and a reptile, its sleek body covered in emerald-green scales that refracted light in a rainbow of colours. Its antlers branched out like crystalline spires, humming faintly as if vibrating with some unknown frequency.
A third was smaller but no less striking—a bird-like creature with wings that pulsed with light, leaving faint trails of phosphorescence in its wake. It darted overhead, its screeches echoing in the still air as though urging the group onward.
Coren couldn't help but stare in awe, her fear momentarily forgotten. "Lyra," she called out over the rush of wind, "what's happening? Why are they following us?"
Lyra, riding a few paces ahead on her Wolfiger, glanced back at her. Her face was set in a mixture of concentration and unease. "I'm not entirely sure," she admitted. "But my Wolfiger said something about the 'The watcher' wanting to talk."
"The Watcher?" Coren echoed, confusion etched across her face.
Lyra nodded, her grip tightening on her Wolfiger's fur. "I don't know who—or what—that is. But clearly, something's guiding them."
As they continued their relentless pace, the animals around them moved in harmony, forming a loose but cohesive group. It was almost as if they were being herded.
Eventually, the Wolfigers slowed to a walk, their earlier urgency giving way to a more measured pace. The surrounding creatures followed suit, their movements eerily coordinated, as though answering an unspoken command.
Coren scanned the forest, her senses on high alert. Despite the strange menagerie of creatures, there was no sign of the Enforcers.
"Do you think we've lost them?" she asked, glancing at Sol, who floated silently beside her.
Lex's red glow dimmed faintly, his tone cautious as he answered instead. "It's not that you've lost them," he said. "They simply won't come here."
Coren frowned, turning her gaze back to the forest. "Why not? Nothing's seemed dangerous so far."
Lex didn't answer immediately, and his hesitation was enough to unsettle her.
Lyra, overhearing, spoke up. "It's not about what we've seen, Coren. It's about what we haven't." She gestured to the forest around them. "Think about it. This place has been labelled the forbidden zone for generations. It's supposed to be unlivable—full of danger. But so far, it's been… quiet. Too quiet."
Coren couldn't argue with that. The forest, for all its strange creatures and mysterious atmosphere, didn't feel dangerous. If anything, it felt… guided. As though an unseen hand were ensuring their safe passage.
They walked for hours, the animals surrounding them maintaining a respectful distance but never straying. Coren's Wolfiger occasionally glanced back at her, as though silently reassuring her that all was well.
Finally, the group came to a halt at the base of a towering mountain, its rugged, imposing face stretching into the sky like an unyielding sentinel. The jagged rock cast long, foreboding shadows in the dim light of the fading sun, the golden hues of dusk painting the surface in stark contrast to its cold, uninviting edges.
"It's a dead end," Coren said, dismounting from her Wolfiger and stepping closer to the sheer wall of stone. Her boots crunched against the loose gravel, the sound echoing faintly against the mountain. Her voice, tinged with frustration, faded into the silence, swallowed by the oppressive stillness of their surroundings.
"Not quite," Lyra replied, her tone cautious but certain. She slid off her Wolfiger with practised ease, her gaze sweeping the area. The tension in her movements was subtle but unmistakable, a reflection of her wariness.
Coren hesitated, closing her eyes as she reached out with her senses. And then she felt it—a ripple. It was faint, almost imperceptible, like a whisper in the air, but it was undeniably there. A thread of energy that didn't belong, woven into the natural flow of the Fields.
"You feel that, don't you?" Lyra asked, stepping beside her, her voice calm but laced with curiosity.
Coren nodded slowly, her focus still on the anomaly. "It's subtle, but it's there. Someone… or something…has changed reality here permanently."
Her words hung in the air, and she felt a chill creep up her spine. Changing reality permanently wasn't supposed to be possible. For someone to change it indefinitely—it was beyond anything Coren had ever imagined. The power it would take to sustain such an effect was staggering.
Lyra stepped closer to the mountain, placing a hand against the rock face. The cold, rough texture contrasted with the faint warmth of the lingering energy pulsing beneath it. Her fingers traced the uneven grooves as though they might reveal some hidden truth. Her brow furrowed, her expression unreadable, but Coren could sense the undercurrent of unease in her movements.
"This mountain isn't just a mountain," Lyra said quietly, her voice barely carrying over the stillness. Despite her calm tone, Coren caught the tension that lay beneath it—subtle, but enough to make her own unease grow.
Coren stepped closer, her heart pounding in her chest. "What is it then?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Lyra hesitated, her fingers lingering on the rock, as though drawing strength from it. Her Wolfiger, standing behind her, let out a low growl, its glowing amber eyes fixed on the mountain with an almost unnatural intensity. Its massive form seemed to vibrate with suppressed energy, its fur bristling slightly as though it could sense something they could not.
Sol finally spoke a single sentence. "It's a prison."
Coren froze, her breath catching in her throat. "A prison? A prison for who?"
"Looks like we're about to find out," Lyra said, her voice steady despite the palpable tension that radiated from her. She placed her other hand on the mountain and closed her eyes, her connection to the Fields deepening as she prepared to uncover what lay hidden within.
Coren's breath caught as she placed her hand on the rock face alongside Lyra. The moment her palm touched the stone, the world around her dissolved into a rush of heat and colour.
When Coren opened her eyes, she was no longer standing at the base of the mountain. Instead, she found herself in a vast, fiery red expanse. The air shimmered with heat, and the ground beneath her feet seemed to pulse faintly, like the heartbeat of a giant beast. The sky above was a swirling inferno of crimson and black, and the oppressive heat wrapped around her like a suffocating blanket.
She looked around, relief washing over her when she spotted Lyra standing a few feet away. Lyra's gaze was sharp, her stance tense, as though she were bracing herself for a fight.
"This is… different," Coren murmured, wiping a bead of sweat from her brow. She tried to steady her breathing, the heat making her light-headed. "Do you think these mental spaces were the norm pre-severance to exchange information?"
Lyra's gaze flickered to her, but she didn't answer. Coren got the sense that Lyra didn't trust herself to speak yet.
Before either of them could say anything more, a figure began to emerge from the horizon, its silhouette hazy and distorted by the heatwaves.
As it came closer, Coren felt an immediate sense of wrongness. The figure was humanoid, but its proportions were off—its arms just a little too long, its gait slightly too fluid. When it came into focus, Coren's eyes were drawn to its face.
Its eyes were too large, with slit-like pupils that flickered like embers, and its skin had a faint, ashen hue that reminded her of scorched metal. He was a member of Valtau Empire.
The figure stopped a few paces away, tilting its head as it studied them. When it spoke, its voice was cracked and jagged, like the grinding of stone on stone.
"Visitors," it said, its lips curling into a twisted grin. "It's been so so long. Too long infact."
It turned its gaze to Coren, its flickering, ember-like eyes locking onto hers. For a moment, she felt as though it was staring straight through her—peering into the deepest parts of her soul. Its grin widened, sharp and predatory.
"Ah… the Chosen One," it said, its voice dripping with twisted delight. "Bonded to him, I see. Part of his Companion resides within you. How… fascinating. He took my companion, did you know they could do that? Just remove your companion from you"
Then, its unnerving gaze shifted to Lyra, the grin twisting further into something manic. Its eyes narrowed as it tilted its head, studying her like a predator sizing up its prey.
"And you… who are you?" It sniffed the air theatrically, before its grin split into a jagged, unhinged smile. "Ahhh, you're his bonded this time." It let out a low, cracked laugh, the sound echoing like a blade scraping across metal. "How amusing. I can't believe I get to see you again"
Coren stiffened, her confusion mounting. "Who are you? And what do you mean, 'his Companion'? Who is he?"
The figure let out a sharp, jagged laugh, the sound echoing unnaturally in the fiery expanse. "He goes by many names, most of them forgotten now. But we—my people—called him The Reaper."
Coren's breath hitched, her pulse quickening. "The Reaper…" she echoed, the words tasting like ash on her tongue.
Lyra stepped forward, her voice sharp. "Why are you here? Why were you imprisoned?"
The figure's grin faltered slightly, replaced by a gleam of bitterness in its flickering eyes. "Imprisoned?" it repeated, its tone dripping with venom. "No, child. I was condemned. Condemned by him. He trapped me here—bound me here to suffer for eternity."
Lyra's jaw tightened. "Why?"
The figure tilted its head again, its grin returning, though this time it was far more unhinged. "Because I had the audacity to fight back. To challenge the notion that humanity should bow to weakness. You see, humans are special. Masters of the Fields. We should rule this galaxy, not coddle it. The Empress…" Its voice turned venomous as it spat the word. "She was in our way. A symbol of unity. A false prophet who would have led humanity into servitude."
Coren felt a chill despite the searing heat. "You were behind the attack," she said softly, realisation dawning on her.
The figure chuckled darkly. "Yes. The attack was my plan. My masterpiece I landed the final blow. But The Reaper… He did so wonderfully well… better than expected. If only I wasn't caught" It gestured to the fiery expanse around them. "This. This is my punishment."
Coren glanced around, unease prickling at her skin. "This… this is your prison?"
The figure's grin twisted into something almost grotesque. "This is nothing, child. My body is the prison. My mind resides here, but my body…" It let out a harsh laugh, its voice trembling with madness. "My body is frozen in a single moment. Every nerve on fire, every muscle screaming in agony. He made sure of that. He wanted me to suffer. Forever."
Coren's stomach churned, and she took a step back.
Lyra's expression hardened, but her voice remained steady. "And the creatures outside? The Wolfigers, the others… they're your creations?"
The figure nodded, a faint spark of pride lighting up its unhinged gaze. "Oh yes. My children. The Reaper allows them to guard my prison, to keep out intruders like you. But you… you are different. The chosen one Companion chose you. That means my time has come."
"What do you mean, 'your time has come'?" Coren asked, her voice rising slightly.
The figure's smile stretched wider, a terrifying sight against the backdrop of fire. "You'll see soon enough, Chosen One."
Before either of them could respond, the fiery plane began to collapse, the ground splitting and crumbling beneath their feet. The figure's laughter echoed in their ears as the world dissolved into darkness.