---
They didn't charge in.
Not yet.
Riven knew better.
The Hollow Basin was layered with more than soldiers. Runes pulsed in the ruins like veins beneath rotting skin. The Eclipse hadn't just built a fortress. They had constructed a ritual trap—one meant not to keep outsiders out, but to force intruders into collapse.
Riven crouched behind the jagged outcropping overlooking the shattered altar. Lyra was still there. Still chained. But her aura had doubled since sunset. The ground cracked around her in spirals of elemental backlash.
"She doesn't have long," Kael whispered.
Liora murmured calculations under her breath, sketching quick rune circles in the dirt beside them. "She's pushing into Seal destabilization. Less than an hour before rupture."
"Can you suppress her remotely?" Riven asked.
"No," she said. "I need to touch her core. Or at least the bond mark."
Riven looked down at his pendant—the shard connected to Lyra's spirit. It was flickering now, not glowing. Pulsing erratically.
He drew it out.
"Can this boost the link?"
Liora studied it. "It might stabilize it enough to slow the surge. But only if you're close. A few meters. No more."
"Then we'll clear the way."
---
Elen appeared at Riven's side, silent as a whisper.
"Scouted the perimeter," she said. "Two main entry points—north arch and the tunnel beneath the chapel ruin. The chapel has fewer guards but more traps."
"North arch?" Kael asked.
"Straight into the front," Elen replied. "Visible. High chance of confrontation. But easier to escape through."
Riven didn't hesitate. "We go through the chapel."
Kael frowned. "We'll be funneled in."
"We're not retreating. We're not running. This time, we take."
Kael studied him a moment longer. Then nodded. "Let's break some chains."
---
The ruins of the old chapel were blackened with age. The stone was charred, the iron gate half-melted by old spells. Veyron's voice stirred in Riven's mind.
> Smells like ambition and failure. My kind of place.
They entered in silence, warding glyphs hissing as Liora suppressed them mid-step. Each one pulsed faintly with inverted light—ritual signatures of the Eclipse. A single misstep would trigger soul anchors—glyphs designed to lock a person's essence in place while their body was devoured by cursefire.
Riven's fingers brushed the hilt of his sword with every step.
They moved through a crumbling stairwell, descending into a vaulted chamber lined with shrines desecrated by Eclipse symbols.
Then came the first voice.
> "You're early."
Riven didn't hesitate. His sword flashed upward—meeting another mid-swing.
The masked cultist staggered back, surprised. Then several more stepped from the darkness, surrounding them in a half-circle.
Liora raised her hands. "Five incoming from the west. Two above."
Kael moved like fire.
Blades drawn, he cut through the first cultist with a flame-augmented thrust, spinning into the second with a blast of heat that vaporized the man's robes before his body hit the ground.
Elen vanished into the shadows, taking two rooftop archers before they had time to scream.
Riven met his opponent again—this time not with a blade, but with raw spirit.
He focused the shard of Lyra's pendant, channeling its frequency into his center.
> Reach her. Let her know you're coming.
The cultist snarled and lunged.
Riven side-stepped, then drove his palm into the man's chest—channeling the resonance of Lyra's spirit.
The cultist convulsed as the feedback overloaded his glyphs, and his mask cracked in half, eyes burning with sudden clarity before he collapsed.
---
They moved fast.
No alarms. No flares.
Just bodies in the shadows and the sound of pulsing Seals cracking under pressure.
They reached the central courtyard of the Basin in under four minutes.
Lyra hung suspended in the air now—no longer touching the altar.
Her eyes were open.
But her irises glowed like molten spirit glass.
She didn't see them.
Didn't see anything.
She was between worlds.
> "She's in rupture," Liora said breathlessly. "We're out of time."
Riven stepped forward.
"Cover me."
Kael raised a hand—and sent a column of fire roaring into the northern overlook as more Eclipse cultists began to descend.
Elen leapt from wall to wall, flanking enemy casters and cutting them down with silent precision.
Riven ran.
Straight into the storm.
---
The air around Lyra screamed.
Winds lashed. Fire danced. Shadows clung to him like living things.
He forced his way through it all, pendant extended, channeling every ounce of memory—every bond, every shared moment he could remember.
> "Lyra! Come back. You're not alone."
The pendant sparked.
Lyra's body spasmed.
Then her eyes flickered.
> "Riven...?"
A tear traced down her cheek—but it evaporated before it fell.
"Stay with me," he shouted. "Stay with me!"
Liora was beside him in seconds, pressing her palm to Lyra's back. Glyphs flared from her forearm—spinning silver runes laced with stardust.
"Stabilizing... now!"
---
Then the world snapped.
A ripple of force expanded from Lyra's body.
Cultists around the basin were thrown backward. The ritual altar cracked down the center. A scream—half divine, half human—ripped through the sky.
Lyra collapsed.
Riven caught her before she hit the ground.
---
The battlefield stilled.
Kael walked toward them, bloodied but grinning.
Elen followed, bow slung across her back.
Liora staggered, eyes wide with exhaustion.
"She's safe," she said. "For now."
Riven held Lyra close, her breathing shallow but steady.
"She's coming back."
He didn't say it to anyone in particular.
Maybe not even to her.
Just to himself.
---
Above them, in the shattered upper spire, a figure watched.
Seris.
Her robes were darker now. Her eyes colder.
She'd seen enough.
She turned—and walked away into the void.
---