The wind howled as it swept across the Vireskar Mountains—sharp, cold, and scented with something burnt. Snow no longer fell here. Not since the firestorm two decades ago that had blackened the skies for an entire year.
But beneath that scarred sky, something had awakened.
Syra Kaelion crouched at the edge of a cliff, her eyes locked on the ruins below. Massive iron spires jutted out of cracked earth like rusted fangs. Faint glimmers of ancient machinery still pulsed beneath their surfaces—remnants of an age the world had tried to forget.
"There it is," she said, her breath misting the air. "Vault XIV."
Riven slid into view beside her, her curved dagger already drawn. "Looks more like a graveyard than a vault."
Kaien followed, scanning the horizon with his storm-worn eyes. "It is a graveyard. For gods, demons, and fools."
Syra pulled her scarf higher around her neck. "Then let's hope we're none of those."
They descended cautiously, cloaked in shadows. The land beneath their boots groaned, as if waking from some long, poisoned dream.
The deeper they walked into the ruins, the stronger the pressure grew. Reality itself felt... tired. Bent. As though some massive presence was pressing down on this space, twisting it.
Syra paused before a shattered monument—once a tower, now just a spiral staircase that led into nowhere.
Etched into its broken steps was the symbol of the Kaelion line. But not hers.
Lucian's.
Riven narrowed her eyes. "He was here."
Syra knelt and ran a hand over the sigil. "Recently."
Kaien unsheathed his blade. "Then it's a trap."
"No," said a voice from the mist.
They all turned.
From the fog emerged a cloaked figure—tall, lean, and quiet as the grave.
A golden edge shimmered at his side.
A katana.
Syra reached for her weapon, but the figure raised one hand slowly, a gesture not of threat—but warning.
"Don't," he said. His voice was soft. Measured. Old.
Author.
Syra stepped forward. "What are you doing here?"
He tilted his head. "Guiding the rewrite."
Riven raised an eyebrow. "You say that like it explains anything."
"It doesn't need to. Not to you." He looked only at Syra.
"There is a Hollow Frame below," Author said. "But it's not meant for Lucian. Or you."
Syra crossed her arms. "Then why are we here?"
"Because this is where the story breaks."
Kaien stepped forward, tense. "Is Lucian here?"
Author paused.
Then: "He was. But he's not the only danger in Vireskar."
The ground trembled.
From beneath the earth, something groaned—a low, seismic moan, like a beast waking from centuries of hunger.
"He woke it," Author whispered. "The thing buried below. The Vault Guardian."
Syra's eyes widened. "I thought the guardians were destroyed."
Author looked at her. "One survived."
And then the mountain split.
A shockwave tore through the valley, hurling metal and bone into the air. A great claw burst from the stone, followed by a head wreathed in flame and rust.
The Vault Guardian stood over a hundred feet tall—its body an amalgamation of celestial technology and demonic flesh. Its eyes burned with the fury of ages, and across its chest glowed the incomplete glyph of a Hollow Frame.
Kaien dragged Syra back just as the beast let out a shriek that cracked the sky.
"We run?" Riven yelled.
"No," Syra growled. "We fight."
She leapt forward, blades drawn, fire blooming from her palms.
Kaien charged beside her, wind curling around his sword.
Riven vanished into shadow, reappearing on the Guardian's back, plunging her dagger into a glowing joint.
But the Guardian was no mindless beast.
It adapted.
It roared—and its skin hardened into black obsidian.
Syra's flames slid harmlessly across it.
Kaien's sword bounced away with a clang.
Only Author remained still.
Watching.
Writing.
As if everything was going according to plan.
"You said it wasn't meant for me," Syra shouted, dodging a massive claw. "Then who!?"
Author's pen paused mid-sentence.
Then, the Guardian stopped moving.
Its chest opened.
And inside, suspended in stasis, was a girl.
Or... a weapon shaped like one.
Eyes closed. Silver veins. A heartbeat made of light.
Author looked at Syra. "Meet the First Frame."
And the Guardian awoke again—faster.
Deadlier.
To Be Continued in Chapter 18...