The earth continued to shake as Arthur and Nyra stumbled away from the heart of the Fracture. In their wake, the sky glowed with its own reverse colors—violet and viridian lightning tearing through the clouds where the Primordial's anger showed itself. Arthur's fresh wounds pounded within him with every step, the parasite now an ongoing whisper in his head instead of a distinct voice.
Nyra spat, clearing blackened blood from her lips. Her eyes—streaked with the same nothingness-light as Arthur's—fluttered uncertainly. "What the fuck did you do to me there?"
Arthur prepared to answer when the ground bucked and heaved. There was a cacophony of a thousand breaking mirrors as a broken shadow peeled away from the bleeding sky.
The First Sanctum had come.
A crystalline island hung suspended above Veridia City, its base crowded with obsidian spikes. Bizarre shapes glowed across its face, solidifying and melting like mist congealing on glass. Arthur felt the draw even from leagues off—the same harmonic thrum that had enticed him to the Fallen Temple.
The parasite awakened. "A testing ground. The first of many."
Nyra's fire automatically climbed to create a shield. "That thing's emitting more magic than the whole Ignis Guild complex."
Arthur's night vision identified ant-like beings scurrying along Veridia's sides. Storm Guild flags unrolled as enforcers mobilized. "They'll seal it up. Keep everyone out."
A harsh laugh erupted from Nyra. "Like that'll dissuade the other guilds. Look."
To the east, red flares marked Ignis scouts moving forward. To the west, earth mages lifted stone bridges toward the flying monolith. The air itself began to ripple as unseen forces coalesced—the faint aura of Mind Guild operatives camouflaging their approach.
The parasite scanned the patterns. "They don't comprehend what they're handling. The sanctums punish the unworthy severely."
Arthur's scars throbbed in rhythm with the far-off crystal's radiance. "We must arrive first."
Veridia's Western Slums – 3 Hours Later
City walls towered ahead of them, guarded by double the normal sentries. Arthur estimated seventeen Storm enforcers on the closest battlement alone, their silver-threaded coats identifying them as Silver-rank—veterans all.
Nyra knelt beside a corroded water tower, her black-rimmed flames well controlled. "Front gate's suicide. Even with your. enhancements."
Arthur curled his fingers, seeing purple energy spark between them. The parasite's information provided options—sewerways, guard shifts, even the resonant frequency required to shatter the wards. "There's a blind spot around the artisan quarter. Old drainage tunnel."
They navigated through darkness become abnormally deep at Arthur's soft orders. The parasite's new incorporation provided terrifying accuracy—each pilfered breath, each step immaculately hidden. A patrol walked by and stopped when a pebble hit the ground close by, their faces turning just long enough for two silhouettes to get past.
The sewage tunnel smelled of decaying algae and something more acrid—ozone. The walls were scarred with fresh burns.
"Lightning wards," Nyra grunted. "New ones."
Arthur set his hand against the wet stone. The senses of the parasite stretched along the mineral veins, tracing the pattern of the enchantment. "Frequency-based. Simple to break if—"
A snarl reverberated from the tunnel in front.
Something huddled in the shadows—a human form with too many joints, its skin covered in writhing crystals. Yellow eyes flickered open, reflecting nonexistent light.
"Hollowborn," the parasite named. "A failed host.
The monster moved in jerky, unnatural haste. Arthur just managed to lift his arm in time as crystal claws screamed against his hardened flesh. Nyra's fire lit up the abomination in full—a once-human creature, now half-devoured by jagged mineral growths, its mouth stretched too wide in a scream that was silent.
Arthur's return blow combined kinetic power with pilfered heat. The Hollowborn's chest burst open, casting glass-like shards that melted before they hit the ground.
Nyra stared at the fading remains. "That was a Copper-rank earth mage. I recognize the guild tattoos."
More scraping sounds came from deeper in the tunnel. Dozens.
"The sanctum calls them," the parasite warned. "They seek completion."
Arthur made a decision. "Run."
They forsook stealth, spilling out the mouth of the tunnel into the artisan quarter's hysteria. Windows were barricaded by citizens, and guild alarm wailed. The sanctum throbbed like a festering heart above it all.
Storm Guild Stronghold – Outer Courtyard
The successor of Maelis, a gold-robed Archon by the name of Veyl, stood upon the command dais. His word thundered through magical amplifiers:
"By Storm Council order, all approaches to the sanctum are restricted to ranked guild members. Iron-ranks make up perimeter defense. Coppers and higher—"
The words trailed off as the sanctum exploded savagely. A beam of condensed light lashed the western slums, and from the impact site, there stepped forth figures. More Hollowborn—dozens, hundreds—their crystalline forms shimmering with the sanctum's radiance.
Arthur observed the instant Veyl's plan fell apart. The Archon's neatly arrayed ranks faltered as enforcers broke line to attack the distorted beasts.
Nyra tugged Arthur's sleeve. "Now's our chance."
They moved unseen through the chaos, avoiding lightning bolts and panicked civilians. The sanctum's foundation floated above the topmost spire of the Storm Guild's central keep, held together by a quivering bridge of condensed light.
The parasite spat a warning as they stepped onto the glowing path. "The trial begins."
The bridge disintegrated behind them as they fled. Below, Veridia was ablaze. Above, the sanctum's maw yawned wide.
Nyra's flames sputtered as unnatural gravity asserted itself. "No going back now."
Arthur's scars burned as the initial test appeared—a fluid maze of reflected crystal, each facet mirroring not their faces, but their greatest terrors. The parasite murmured the actual challenge:
"To continue, you must face what you are becoming."
As the reflections made way for Arthur's figure more and more consumed by void-scars, the walls started to collapse.