The silence of the Nexus was broken by a palpable crackle, a disturbance deep within the veins of the world, as Darius stood at the center of the great hall, his eyes fixed on the shimmering threads of fate that had begun to weave around him. Celestia, Nyx, Kaela, and Azael's lingering spirit stood by his side, their presence heavy with the weight of the past.
Darius's hands trembled slightly as he reached out to grasp the cold, ancient tome in front of him, its cover inscribed with cryptic symbols that pulsed with forbidden energy. This was the Pact of Seven Wounds, a binding ritual that would not only tie the fates of his closest allies to his own but also grant him immeasurable power—at the cost of their past traumas.
"Are you sure?" Celestia's voice was soft but filled with an unspoken worry, her fingers brushing against Darius's. Her usual calm was gone, replaced by an apprehension that she had never shown before. "This path… it will change us forever."
