(Part 3 of 4 – The Blank Mask)
The blank mask stared back at her—smooth and unmarred. No cracks. No expressions. No judgment.
Just silence.
And in that silence, Syra heard her own heartbeat, fast and fragile, echoing in her ears like war drums.
Author stepped forward off his platform. He walked—not floated—as though the fractured air were solid ground beneath his boots. His presence didn't distort the realm. It corrected it.
"You're wondering if you should trust me," he said, voice calm. "That's fair. I wouldn't."
"Then why help me at all?" she demanded. "Why give me this journal? Why leave riddles? Why drag me into your war?"
Author stood still, then tilted his head slightly.
"Because this isn't my war. It's yours."
Riven stepped in front of Syra, hand on the hilt of his dagger. "If you knew her future, why not just tell her?"
Author turned slightly. "Would you have believed me?"
Silence.
"You don't change fate by knowing it," Author added, "You change it by choosing it."
He waved his hand toward the shattered mask of Ares.
"Your father chose. He chose you."
Syra stared at the pieces of her father's face. "And I… chose wrong."
"No," Author said. "You chose early."
A new ripple tore through the temple.
Another vision flared.
This time—Lucian.
VISION SEQUENCE:
Lucian stood before the Hell King, a monstrous titan cloaked in black fire and bone. On his wrist—three jagged fragments of the Heaven Key fused with corrupted metal.
Hell King: "With four, you become a god. With seven, you erase gods."
Lucian did not flinch. "I only want to rewrite the world. My way."
They stood before Vault IX—its seal broken. Screams echoed from within.
Lucian: "Syra is on her way."
Hell King: "Let her come. The seventh fragment flows through her veins."
Lucian smiled.
"Then I'll carve it out myself."
VISION ENDS
Syra gasped and fell to her knees. Her eyes were wet with something colder than tears.
"He's going to kill me," she whispered.
Author stepped forward again. His hand reached into his cloak and pulled out a golden pen.
"Not if you write the next chapter first."
She looked up at him.
"Is that… really how this works?"
"Stories are more dangerous than swords," he said. "But only if you finish them."
Suddenly the walls of the temple began to crack.
Riven yelled, "Something's coming through—real, not vision!"
Shadow erupted from the doorway.
A black figure cloaked in flame, wielding twin axes of bone—one of Lucian's elite.
"The Seeker," Author said. "Lucian's personal executioner."
Syra drew her blade. Riven readied his flames.
"No more riddles," she hissed.
"No more masks," Author said, vanishing into shadow. "This is your fight."
To Be Continued… in Part 4
CHAPTER 9: Temple of Reflections
(Part 4 of 4 – Flames and Echoes)
The Seeker stepped into the fractured temple, axes glowing with infernal symbols. Its cloak of black fire licked at the broken marble floor, melting stone with each stride.
Riven's voice dropped. "That's no scout. That's a judge."
Syra felt the ancient sword in her grip tremble—not with fear, but recognition. The Seeker wasn't just another of Lucian's enforcers. It had once been human. Kaelion once knew him.
"He was my father's student," she whispered. "He fell during the first breach... Lucian turned him."
The Seeker raised one axe and pointed it at Syra. No words, only breath like boiling acid.
Then he charged.
Steel clashed against bone-iron.
Syra dodged the first arc, her boots sliding across shattered tiles. Riven launched a blast of flame—hot, fierce, and red. It only staggered the Seeker.
"Syra!" Riven shouted. "He's warded—Hellstone skin. We can't brute-force him!"
"Then I'll outthink him," she growled, leaping atop the temple altar.
The Seeker threw an axe. It shattered part of the ceiling, sending divine dust cascading down.
Syra flipped midair, slashing with precision. The edge of her blade grazed the Seeker's mask, revealing a glimpse of warped human skin—scarred and scorched.
"There's still a man under there," she said, gritting her teeth. "And I can reach him."
Riven closed his eyes briefly, focusing his aura into blue fire—concentrated, pure. He hurled it at the floor beneath the Seeker's feet. The tiles exploded.
The creature fell to one knee.
Syra saw her chance.
"I know who you were," she shouted. "Eron! Ares trained you. You loved this world!"
The Seeker hesitated.
Just for a moment.
And in that moment, Author reappeared—only for Syra to see him cast a rune into the wall. A hidden seal activated, revealing a passage behind the altar.
"Go," Author said. "You can't kill him. Not yet. He's tied to the next seal."
"Then you stop him!" Syra yelled.
"I already have," Author replied cryptically, and vanished again.
Riven and Syra sprinted into the hidden tunnel. The roar of collapsing marble followed them, but the Seeker did not. He stood in the broken temple, staring at the blade that Syra had struck him with.
Something in him… remembered.
And he howled—not in rage, but in agony.
The tunnel descended into darkness. Glowing script lined the walls—ancient, celestial, but now fading.
"That fight wasn't to kill him," Riven said, panting. "It was to wake him."
"One day, he'll switch sides," Syra murmured.
Riven gave a tired smile. "Or kill us first."
They reached a vault door. Burned into the center was a symbol—one Syra hadn't seen before. Not one of the Seven Keys. Something else.
A question mark, formed from wings and chains.
"It's a new chapter," Syra whispered.
Behind them, echoes of the Seeker's howl still haunted the ruined halls. But ahead of them—only quiet.
And the sense that something ancient… was watching.
CHAPTER 9 END
Next: Chapter 10 – The Hollow Queen