Chrizer – The Voice in the Silence
I never liked silence. Not the kind that feels peaceful, but the kind that echoes louder than noise. The kind I've been walking in for what feels like eternity.
The Lake of Pregina wasn't just a destination—it was a beacon calling through the cracks of collapsing dimensions. And right now, it shimmered somewhere beyond the veil of this dying world.
I held the three fused keys tightly in my palm. They glowed faintly—like frightened stars fighting to stay lit against a collapsing sky. A whisper seemed to hum between them, vibrating with some kind of pulse I couldn't interpret yet.
Author's Note: For those who followed Chrizer since Chapter 1, this is a different man now. The boy who once feared the shadows has now become the light in them.
"I hope the others are alright," I muttered, brushing a thick curtain of leaves aside as I stepped into the deeper woodlands. "They have to be."
The wind carried something heavy that day—an aura of past, present, and something else entirely. And then... I saw it.
A colossal cave loomed ahead, embedded with unfamiliar glyphs. They flickered like ancient data—sentient and scanning me, almost.
"Another test?" I whispered. "Or an invitation?"
I barely had time to answer myself. The keys in my hand jerked forward and latched onto one another, forming a unified sigil. A sudden beam of cosmic energy poured from the sky—piercing through clouds and space and hitting me dead center.
"CHRIZER—!" a voice shouted—feminine, commanding, somehow nostalgic.
Author's Note: Those of you who guessed the return of Angel, congratulations. She's back—and as cryptic as ever.
Angel – An Interrupted Transmission
"Good morning... or perhaps evening, Chrizer," said the luminous figure emerging through the beam. Her voice echoed like divine poetry wrapped in urgency.
"Angel?" I blinked in disbelief. "Is it really you?"
Her glowing form hovered, casting reflections across every nearby leaf and stone. "We don't have much time."
"I know. We're gathering the last piece. The Lake of Pregina—"
She raised a hand, cutting me off. "Wait—don't tell me... you didn't see it?"
"See what?"
"Oh no," she muttered. "It means it's already begun."
Her light flickered.
"What's going on?"
"I'm being pulled out... This isn't the time—I'm not ready to—"
Suddenly, a darkness surged across her frame. A violent shade—a spectral claw that didn't belong in any world I knew.
"Elligus!" I shouted.
Author's Note: Yes, him again. He's like a virus you can't patch out of the Omniversal OS.
My crimson stone reacted on its own, forming a radiant dome that shielded her just in time.
"Chrizer—listen to me!" she said through the fading haze. "You have thirty minutes. These dimensions—yours and your friends—are collapsing."
The light vanished.
The Collapse Begins
I stood there in the afterglow, stunned. Her final words repeated in my mind like an alarm.
"You have thirty minutes."
I didn't know what the others were facing, but I could feel their energies slipping. Not fading—just... distorted. Like a melody falling out of tune.
Then came the first rumble. The ground beneath me cracked. Gravity twisted slightly. And ahead, across the sky, I saw something impossible.
Mirrors. Dozens of them. Suspended in midair.
They shimmered like liquid glass—each one reflecting not the landscape, but people.
Me.
Elligus.
My team.
And someone else.
I stepped toward one. My reflection was off—wrong. A twisted version of myself stared back. Not evil. Not monstrous. Just... broken.
He moved first.
Chrizer vs. Mirror-Chrizer
"You think you've become the hero?" the reflection sneered, stepping from the mirror like it was a door.
"No. I just want to protect them."
"Liar," he spat. "You still blame yourself. For the war. For the deaths. For her."
"Stop—"
"You wanted power. You loved it."
He rushed me. Faster than thought. Our blades clashed—his was a mirrored copy of my Crimson Arc, but darker, corrupted.
The battle wasn't just physical. It was mental. With every strike, he whispered a new doubt.
"You couldn't save her."
"You abandoned them."
"You're just using them to fix your guilt."
Each accusation was a scar reopened. Each dodge, a wound I'd forgotten.
Author's Note: This isn't a villain fight. It's a reckoning.
But I wasn't alone. My memories surfaced—of Mizelein laughing, of Yuna's patience, of Phiona's stubborn encouragement.
They gave me balance. And with one last surge, my real blade lit up with golden energy—emitting not just power, but truth.
"I'm not perfect," I said, "but I'm trying. That's what makes me worthy."
One strike—clean. The mirror shattered, and the dark version of me faded like smoke.
Behind it: a floating orb. The Third Key Piece. It glowed with recognition.
But I wasn't done. I could feel them—all my team members—undergoing their own trials.
It was time you heard from them, too.
Yuna – A Sky Full of Lies
I've always believed in the stars.
When I was younger, I'd lie awake at night with my grandmother, tracing constellations and assigning stories to the spaces between them. Back then, the sky was my comfort. Now... it felt like a cruel mirror.
The dimension I'd landed in after the team got separated was almost serene—almost. A sky of endless twilight hung overhead, filled with galaxies that shimmered too perfectly. And yet, the stillness was suffocating.
Author's Note: Yuna has always been the most emotionally intelligent member of the group. That's what makes this chapter so heartbreaking.
I sat on a ledge overlooking what looked like an endless floating ocean. I could feel the pull of the keys—three of them pulsing in the pocket of my robe. I wasn't supposed to have them, and yet they followed me like faithful pets.
Something was wrong. My memories felt off—too clear, too curated.
"Yuna..." a voice called gently from behind.
I turned, heart racing.
My mother stood there.
But she was gone. Years ago.
"Impossible," I whispered.
She walked forward, arms open. Her eyes were warm, her voice soft.
"You did everything right. You always cared. But you were never enough."
Those words cracked something in me.
"What?" I stepped back.
"You try to fix everyone. Chrizer. Mizelein. Phiona. But you don't know how to fix yourself, do you?"
I clutched my head. The stars began to swirl.
"No, this isn't real," I whispered.
But it felt real.
A chorus of voices rose from the ocean below. Children. Elders. All people I had once failed to save during the earlier wars.
"Yuna the Wise," they chanted mockingly. "Wise... but weak."
"No. I saved you. I tried—"
"You hesitated. You always do."
I dropped to my knees.
And then I saw it.
My reflection—walking toward me.
Dressed like me. Mannerisms like mine. But cold.
"She's right, you know," the other Yuna said. "You doubt. That's why you'll always be second-best."
I wanted to scream, to run. But there was nowhere to go.
So I stood. Slowly.
"No."
She frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I do doubt. I overthink. I make mistakes," I said. "But I keep moving forward."
My blade—The Ethereal Bloom—materialized in my hand, glistening with sky-colored light.
"I am not here to be perfect. I'm here to protect. Even if I'm broken."
The reflection rushed me.
We clashed mid-air, above the twilight ocean, blades trailing light and grief.
Her eyes were full of accusation. Mine were full of tears.
Author's Note: Pain doesn't always come from wounds. Sometimes, it comes from reflections.
The battle was not about who was stronger—it was about who had the will to keep believing.
With a final cry, I sliced through her chest. She looked surprised... almost relieved.
And then she vanished—into mist, into light, into memory.
A new weapon appeared in her place. A bow made of moonlight and song.
The Lunaris Veil—the weapon of clarity.
And next to it, the third piece of the key.
It hovered for a second, then merged with the others.
"I'm coming, Chrizer," I whispered.
But something told me he already knew.
Phiona – Fire That Remembers
The world I'd landed in was not a world at all.
It was a battlefield. Frozen mid-war. Crimson skies. Ruined cathedrals. The ground cracked with every step I took.
And then—him.
My father.
He was supposed to be dead.
Author's Note: Phiona's backstory has been a subtle thread. This is where it snaps.
He stood with his old blade, the one I buried him with. His armor was bloodstained, his eyes unreadable.
"Phiona."
My heart leapt. And sank.
"You abandoned our name," he said.
"I saved it," I replied.
"You joined traitors. You betrayed the legacy."
He charged me.
We clashed in a shower of sparks.
Each strike was a sentence.
"You—should—have—stayed!"
"YOU SHOULD HAVE PROTECTED ME!"
I screamed, finally.
He paused.
"What?"
"You don't get to judge me," I said through tears. "You were never there. You were a hero to the world, but a ghost to your own daughter!"
I struck his blade away and plunged my dagger through his illusionary chest.
And just like that, the world stilled.
The rage faded.
In its place: a burning gauntlet, glowing with runes of the old family crest.
The Ashwrought Fist.
And a third key piece beside it, waiting.
Author's Note: Phiona doesn't cry. But if she did—this would've been the moment.
I picked it up and whispered, "I forgive you."
Not him. Myself.
Mizelein – Sun Beneath Shadows
I walked into the temple with steady steps.
My realm was quiet. Warm. Deceptively calm.
Sunlight poured in from every corner.
And then I saw them.
My former comrades—the Sun Order.
All of them, slain years ago. Now standing, clapping slowly.
"You forgot us," they hissed.
"No," I said. "I just... couldn't save you."
"You moved on."
"I didn't."
One by one, they stepped forward—bodies glowing with corrupted solar energy.
"You failed."
"I learned," I answered.
"You were the Sun Core Vessel. You should've been a god!"
"I'm not a god. I'm Mizelein."
I summoned my twin sunblades—Solaris and Flareborn.
The temple darkened. The battle began.
Author's Note: The sun doesn't apologize for shining. Neither does Mizelein.
After a fierce battle of light against false light, I stood alone—battered but upright.
They vanished into sparks.
And left behind: the Solstice Sigil Spear—a weapon of celestial balance.
And the final piece of the key.
Author's Reflection:
We've seen each member confront their trauma now—not just to gain power, but to gain peace. The weapons they've earned aren't just tools—they're manifestations of truth.
Next up: the team reunites... but the Lake of Pregina holds secrets even they might not be ready for.
Chrizer – At the Edge of Destiny
The wind by the Lake of Pregina had a chill that didn't touch the skin—but pierced the soul.
I stood alone at the shore, watching its waters ripple in impossible patterns. They flowed upward sometimes. Reflected not the sky—but memories.
The three keys pulsed at my chest. They weren't just glowing—they were vibrating, syncing with something greater than me. With the land. The cosmos.
Author's Note: Pregina isn't just a location. It's a convergence point. The meeting of fate and free will.
I'd received Angel's warning. The collapsing dimension. The 30-minute countdown. But time here… felt like a suggestion.
My thoughts kept flicking back to the team. Had they survived their trials? Had they seen what I saw—truth blurred by fear, hope tempered by doubt?
Suddenly—
A flare of moonlight split the horizon.
Yuna descended gently from a ripple in space, bow in hand. Her face was pale but resolute.
She landed near me. Our eyes met, and for a second, no words were needed.
Then—
"I thought I lost you," she whispered.
I smiled faintly. "You're too stubborn to lose."
She smirked through her exhaustion. "You look like you've aged ten years."
"I feel like I've aged a hundred."
Another pulse of energy.
This time: a crack of fire, and Phiona appeared, leaping from a scorched glyph in the ground. Her crimson gauntlet flared like a dying star.
"Figures I'm last," she muttered.
"You're not," Yuna said, eyes already scanning the distance.
And then—
The sun itself shimmered, split, and birthed a man cloaked in radiant flame.
Mizelein landed with quiet grace, his new spear gleaming. His eyes... calm. Deeper.
"We all made it," he said simply.
Author's Note: Reunions aren't always loud. Sometimes, they're just relief in human form.
The Keys Unite
The four of us stood at the lake's edge, and the keys floated from each of our cores. They rotated in mid-air, forming a glowing tetragon.
Suddenly, they slammed together—no warning.
A shockwave radiated out.
The lake stilled. The sky dimmed.
And from beneath the water, something rose.
At first, I thought it was a temple. But no—it was alive. A being.
Not Elligus. Not Angel. Something older.
It had a face without features, hands made of mist, and eyes that reflected all of us.
The Guardian of the Lake.
"You have gathered the four pieces of the Key of Fusion," it intoned, voice like singing stone. "You have faced your truths and survived."
Mizelein stepped forward. "We did what we had to."
The Guardian nodded. "And now, you seek the Eclipserion."
We all nodded.
"The weapon does not belong to one of you alone," it said. "It belongs to all. But only one may wield it—through resonance."
"Then who?" Phiona asked, skeptical.
The Guardian stretched its arm, and in the center of the lake, a massive pedestal emerged. Resting atop it…
A sword.
But not a blade. It pulsed like a heart, shifted like a nebula, breathed like a creature.
"The Eclipserion," it declared.
The Weapon of Fusion.
Author's Note: There's always a sword. But this one? It's unlike anything before. It's forged of moments, of potential, of bonds.
The Test of Resonance
"I'm not sure I'm ready for this," I said.
"You're never ready," Yuna replied. "You choose to step forward anyway."
We approached it together.
But before any of us could touch it—
The Eclipserion reacted.
It flared.
And then—clones of us appeared. Not like before. Not shadows or illusions.
They were us at our worst.
Me, filled with rage, my old self who nearly destroyed a kingdom.
Yuna, when she gave up on her ideals during the desert siege.
Phiona, the assassin before she found meaning.
Mizelein, cold and detached, treating friends like pawns.
We each faced our darker selves. Not in combat—but in conversation.
They asked questions we didn't want to answer.
"Will you kill if it means peace?"
"Will you abandon love for duty?"
"Are you a hero, or just someone good at surviving?"
Author's Note: Sometimes the most violent battles… are fought with words.
We answered. Not always confidently. But honestly.
And the Eclipserion responded.
It flared again.
Then split—into four forms. One to each of us.
Mine: a blade of obsidian and gold, pulsing with memory.
Yuna's: a bow fused with the Lunaris Veil.
Phiona's: twin daggers, now flaming with divine crimson.
Mizelein's: the Solstice Sigil, now with wings of radiant energy.
But the original Eclipserion hovered above us all.
Waiting.
And it spoke—with my voice.
"One of you must take the lead… and bear the weight."
My heart pounded.
Was it me?
Yuna looked at me.
Phiona nodded faintly.
Mizelein stepped forward. "Chrizer. You carry us all. You always have."
I swallowed.
Then stepped forward.
The Aeonshard fused with me.
Not painfully. Not violently.
But with harmony.
And suddenly—I remembered everything.
Author's Interlude:-
Dear reader—this is the moment where the chosen one is crowned, yes. But the story isn't over. In fact, it's about to twist. Because fusion doesn't just unite. It also attracts. It awakens.
The Eclipserion light… reached something else. Something beyond even Elligus. Something older than gods. And now—it's coming.
Back to Chrizer
Power surged through me.
But so did fear.
I felt eyes—millions—open in distant space. Watching.
Something ancient had felt the Eclipserion awaken.
We were out of time.
"I think we just rang the bell for a much larger war," I said.
Mizelein nodded. "Then let's sharpen the blade."
Yuna loaded her bow. "And rewrite the stars."
Phiona punched her fist into her hand. "Time to set the world on fire."
I raised the Aeonshard.
And the sky shattered.
{§§----------#### Bonus Patch §§ ####------$}
⚔️ Eclipserion: Blade of the Celestial Rift
A Lost Chronicle
"Before there was war, there was balance. Before balance, there was the Eclipserion."
— Ancient Inscription, forgotten ruins of Devilizious
1. The Origin: Forged at the Heart of the Rift
Eclipserion was not forged by mortals. It wasn't even forged by gods in the traditional sense. It was born—during a cosmic event known only in myth as The Convergence of the Dual Realms.
At the precise moment when the Sun Core and the Moon Core nearly collided in astral alignment—on the sacred world of Devilizious—a rift was torn between existence and oblivion. From that rift emerged a raw celestial anomaly, a primal singularity containing both destruction and salvation.
This anomaly was forged into a weapon by an ancient race known only as the Vey'Thalar, beings older than gods, who understood the language of balance. They did not worship light or dark—but the equilibrium between.
From this, the Eclipserion was born—a weapon that held both the burning essence of the sun and the cold serenity of the moon, able to resonate only with those who possess both Core attributes in harmony.
2. Purpose: The Arbiter of Fates
The Eclipserion was never meant for battle in the mortal sense. It was a dimensional regulator, a weapon designed to seal, merge, or obliterate realities that strayed from the path of equilibrium.
Its true power could:
Fuse multiple dimensional energies into a new cosmic law
Nullify beings that broke the balance of life and death
Seal ancient threats that not even gods could contain
But such power came with a curse: it required a host of absolute clarity—a Vessel of Fusion, one who had endured and balanced all elements of soul, body, and mind.
3. The Fall of Dezivileous: The Great Schism
The planet Dezivileous was once a nexus of magic, science, and divine law. But as greed for Eclipserion's power grew, factions emerged. Among them was a celestial traitor known as Xel'Nadar, who believed the blade could rewrite reality in his image.
A war erupted—the Schism of the Twin Suns—between the Keepers of Balance and the Breakers of Fusion. Entire realms collapsed. Stars were extinguished.
In a final effort to stop Xel'Nadar, the last High Keeper sacrificed his existence, channeling Eclipserion to open a rift through time and dimensions, ejecting the blade before it could be corrupted.
It vanished from dezivileous.
4. The Journey to Pregina: The Sealing Ritual
Eclipserion drifted for millennia, lost in the astral sea. It was neither alive nor dead, but dormant, awaiting resonance.
It was eventually pulled into a dying dimension—a tear known as the Abyss of Thalrin, a rift adjacent to the world where the Lake of Pregina would one day be formed.
Sensing the destabilization of countless realms, a group of ancient guardians—the Forerunners of Xazereon—performed a ritual, binding the blade to a dimension of relative peace: the Pregina Domain.
They chose the Lake of Pregina, a sacred water body formed by the convergence of elemental rivers—fire, ice, spirit, and time—as the blade's resting place. There, it would remain hidden in dimensionally sealed waters, accessible only to those who bore all three parts of the Fusion Key and carried both Core essences in harmony.
5. Why Only the Core Vessels Can Access It
Eclipserion was created to regulate imbalance. But to wield it requires the essence of imbalance balanced within a being.
Only those who:
Possess Sun Core and Moon Core essence (or resonate with both)
Have endured trauma, truth, and transformation
Hold the Key of Fusion forged by experience, not inheritance
…can draw the blade without being annihilated by it.
Chrizer ( The Divine Stone Master ,Mizelein (Sun Core), Yuna (Moon Core), and others—through their trials—are potential wielders. But only one can fully resonate.
Thus, Eclipserion chose to remain sealed until all these conditions were met. The Lake of Pregina itself formed a sentient shell around the blade—reacting only when the four fusion keys combined and the resonance was complete.
Final Words: Legacy of Eclipserion
"Those who wield Eclipserion do not rewrite fate—they embody it."
— High Keeper Varial, final verse before the blade's banishment
The Eclipserion is more than a sword.
It is the final judge of cosmic paths.
And it waits not for a warrior...
…but for a soul who dares carry the burden of creation and destruction.
Chapter - Ended
Next Chapter - Coming Soon...
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