The gate's ancient wards peeled back layer by layer, shedding centuries of protective magic like crumbling bark. Each glyph dissolved into mist, singing faint echoes of forgotten tongues. When the last seal unraveled, silence fell.
A silence so profound it crushed sound before it could be born.
The stairway beyond spiraled downward, carved into obsidian stone that pulsed with veins of dimly glowing runes. Faint whispers clung to the walls, curling around the group like smoke.
Haruto stepped in first, each footfall heavier than the last—not from fatigue, but from memory pressing in.
Lucien followed, his usual sarcasm replaced by tense alertness. "You ever get the feeling we're not alone, even when we're supposed to be?"
"All the time," Serenya whispered, her fingers crackling with faint arcane wards. "Something here is still awake."
The descent was long. Longer than it should have been. Time seemed to stretch unnaturally, the spiraling path dipping into something deeper than mere geography—something beneath reality itself.
Finally, the stairs ended in a vast chamber.
The Hollow Deep.
A cavern unlike any they had seen. The ceiling vanished into darkness, and the floor shimmered like liquid glass, reflecting not their bodies—but fragmented memories. Pieces of battles. Faces of people none of them recognized. Dreams that didn't belong to them.
"Is this a prison?" Lucien asked, staring into the mirrored floor.
"No," Haruto said slowly, eyes scanning the shifting images. "It's a well. A place where the roots of magic collect what the world tries to forget."
At the center of the chamber stood an altar, surrounded by floating orbs of amber light. They pulsed with rhythm—heartbeat-like.
As Haruto approached, one of the orbs drifted toward him. A voice echoed softly in his mind.
"You are not whole."
He froze. "I reclaimed the shard. I faced the Warden. I took the throne."
"A throne does not make a soul. You left more than a weapon behind when you were shattered."
The orb hovered closer, pulsing faster. Within it, a silhouette moved—vague, ghostly.
Serenya stepped forward, her voice trembling. "It's drawing from his mind. Reflecting pieces of him that were sealed here."
"No," Haruto said, realization dawning. "They didn't just seal my power… they sealed my choices."
Suddenly, the orb flared with blinding light. From it stepped a figure—tall, cloaked, but unmistakably Haruto. Or rather… another version of him.
But this one was cold.
Eyes like stormglass. A presence that bent the air.
"You chose peace," the figure said. "I chose conquest. They feared me because I didn't kneel."
Lucien took a step back. "We're not fighting another memory, are we?"
"No," Haruto said grimly. "This isn't a memory."
"It's a path I didn't take."
The other Haruto smiled. "And now, it demands to be walked."
The Hollow Deep shuddered. More orbs flickered to life, circling the chamber like stars awakening.
Each one pulsed with a different choice.
A different Haruto.
"Choose carefully," the hollow version said. "Or let them choose you."