The earth cracked beneath us as the Gates awakened. Light streamed upward in twisting pillars, the sky itself splitting under the weight of forces older than time. Kael stood at the center, the Singularity Map blazing like a captive sun in his trembling hands.
“Kael, stop!” someone shouted, but the words vanished beneath the thunder of the Gates. I saw his face illuminated by the swirling energy—eyes wide, no longer entirely his own. The thing that had taken him was winning.
Then the largest Gate shattered open. Its surface twisted like liquid gold, a roaring spiral dragging wind, dust, and reason itself toward its center. We stumbled back, shielding our eyes, yet the pull of that storm clawed at everything—stone, fire, and flesh alike.
Kael turned then, slowly, his voice carrying two tones—the desperate man he had been, and the cold will riding his mind. “Through this Gate lies the path to power… and to the end.”
The ground lurched violently. I felt myself lifted, weightless, as if the air itself had turned traitor. Someone screamed my name, but the wind stole their voice. Kael raised the Map higher, and the Gate responded with a sound like mountains breaking.
I was falling—no, pulled—toward the light. The last thing I saw was Kael’s face, torn between triumph and terror, before the Gate swallowed me whole. The world collapsed into white fire, and then there was nothing.
