Slum District of Veyrnthra – The Rat's Nest

The air reeked of rust and rot. Kael Veyrnn crouched atop a crumbling rooftop, his boots grinding against broken tiles as he stared down at the alley below. A gang of thugs—Blackscale Marauders—kicked a half-dead merchant, their laughter sharp as knives. The man's crime? Failing to pay "protection" fees to the slum's self-appointed kingpin, Razgar the Butcher.

Kael's jaw tightened. Not my problem, he told himself. Survival in the Rat's Nest meant looking away. But the merchant's wheezing cough echoed his father's last breaths—the night demons razed their village.

"Eidolon: Vengeance," he muttered.

Black chains erupted from his shadow, serpentine and hungry. The thugs barely turned before the chains speared their throats. Blood splattered the walls. The merchant scrambled away, but Kael didn't wait for gratitude. He rifled through the thugs' pockets, snatching a handful of copper sols and a rusted key.

"Should've stayed down, gutter rat," a voice sneered.

Razgar emerged from the alley's gloom, hulking and scarred, flanked by a dozen men. His Eidolon, Gluttony, manifested as a spectral maw dripping acid. "You've been thornin' my side too long, Kael. Time to die."

Kael smirked. "You first."

The chains lashed out—but Razgar's maw devoured them, dissolving metal into smoke. Kael dodged a spray of acid, the ground hissing where it landed. He was outmatched, outnumbered. Again.

Then the sky cracked.

Temple of Dawn – Celestial Spire

Liora Solis knelt before the altar, her silver hair shimmering under stained glass depicting the Sun God's triumph over the Void. The High Priestess anointed her brow with sacred oil.

"Blessed child of the Moon Vessel," the priestess intoned, "may your light guide us from darkness."

The congregation murmured reverence. Liora's title was honorary—a relic of her orphaned infancy, when the temple found her swaddled in starlit cloth. But lately, her dreams had been… wrong. Whispers of a shadow older than time, a voice hissing You are mine.

A novice burst into the sanctum. "Lady Liora! A Voidscape erupts near the slums!"

Gasps filled the chamber. Voidscapes were forbidden omens, wounds in reality where the Usvir's influence bled through. Liora rose, her Eidolon, Mercy, materializing as a halo of golden light.

"Prepare the chariot," she ordered. "And summon the Dawnblades."

As she strode out, the High Priestess gripped her arm. "The scriptures warn of a silver-haired vessel and the Infinite Shadow. Do not linger in that Voidscape, child."

Liora's smile was serene. "Faith will shield me."

But as her chariot soared over the slums, she felt the Usvir's gaze—cold, curious—piercing her soul.

Convergence – The Voidscape

Kael stumbled as the world unraveled. Cobblestones floated upward. A fish with human eyes swam through the air. Razgar's men screamed, their bodies twisting into grotesque sculptures. The Voidscape.

"Fool! You triggered it!" Razgar roared, his maw Eidolon disintegrating as the corruption spread.

Kael's chains flickered. Reality here defied rules—Infinatum, the Usvir's power. A shard of obsidian hovered before him, whispering: Take it. Make them pay.

He reached—

"Don't!"

A blast of light repelled the shard. Liora descended, her halo scorching the corruption. Behind her, armored Dawnblades clashed with Razgar's mutated thugs.

"Touch the shard, and you'll die," she warned Kael.

He snarled. "What do you care, princess?"

"I care about closing this Voidscape before it consumes the city." Her eyes narrowed. "Help me, or I'll arrest you after."

A guttural roar shook the ground. Razgar, now a pulsating mass of teeth and tentacles, lunged. Liora's halo flared, shielding them both, but the corruption seeped into her light, staining it violet.

Kael laughed bitterly. "You're infected too."

He grabbed the Usvir shard.

Agony. Power. His chains turned black, piercing Razgar's core. The Voidscape shuddered, collapsing—but Kael's arm blackened, veins glowing like cracked lava.

Liora stared in horror. "You're… marked."

He collapsed, vision fading. The last thing he saw: her silver hair, bright as a star against the filth, and her whispered vow:

"I'll save you. Even if you don't want it."