The Weight of Betrayal
The night had not yet recovered from the chaos of the Custodian betrayal. Burning banners cracked in the wind, and what was once the heart of order now resembled the carcass of a broken empire.
The father stood among the ruins, the map of the Primordial Window clenched in his hand, yet his mind was nowhere near the war. Every word Wind had spoken still echoed inside him—the plan to reset reality, the promise of an end to chaos. But all he could think about was Hoàng Long.
And now, for the first time in years, the memory of his wife surfaced, unbidden, sharp as broken glass. She had vanished after giving birth to Hoàng Long, disappearing into the same mystery that had swallowed their son.
Was it all connected?
Whispers from the Primordial Memory
The moment he held the map, the Primordial Memory stirred once more. Its voice was neither loud nor gentle, but carried the weight of centuries pressing against his thoughts.
“The Primordial Window,” it murmured, “is the cradle and the grave. To open it is to summon beginnings… and endings.”
The father gritted his teeth. If I open it, will I lose them forever? My son… my wife… will they vanish like smoke in a storm?
As though sensing his fear, the voice continued:
“What belongs to the Source will not be erased. But you must find them before the cycle closes. When the Window resets reality, only those gathered within its memory will remain whole.”
The words struck like iron. If Hoàng Long and his mother were trapped in some fractured layer of reality, opening the Window too soon could mean shattering what little remained of them.
The Chains of Choice
Wind approached, her cloak scorched at the edges, eyes reflecting the flames devouring the Custodian stronghold.
“The map gives us the location,” she said. “The Primordial Window lies beyond the Frozen Expanse. Once we reach it, everything begins again.”
“Begins,” the father repeated bitterly. “Or ends?”
Wind’s gaze hardened. “This world is already ending. The Window is the only way forward.”
But her certainty no longer anchored him. Because now the choice was no longer about factions, wars, or even reality itself. It was about his family. If the Primordial Memory spoke true, then finding them wasn’t just personal—it was essential. Without them, the Window might open, but at a cost he couldn’t bear to name.
A Map of Fire and Shadows
That night, beneath a sky torn by collapsing Gates, the father studied the map again. Lines spiraled toward the northern edge of the world, where ice met endless sky.
The final clue was clear: The Primordial Window waited at the heart of the storm.
But so did every faction hunting him.
And somewhere across fractured realities, his son and wife were lost—the last pieces of a life he barely remembered, yet could not abandon.
As the earth shuddered under another collapsing Gate, he felt it for the first time—the terrifying weight of choice.To open the Window might save the world.
But to find his family might save his soul.
