The storm over the Ash Wastes never stopped.
It wasn't rain that fell from the sky but flakes of soot and ash—fine as dust, thick enough to choke lungs, and eternal in its descent. The air was dry, bitter, and always faintly warm. Beneath the endless gray clouds, the world stretched out in dunes of burnt stone and obsidian glass.
And in the distance, piercing the gloom like a jagged fang, rose the silhouette of Ashspire.
"Place looks like hell got bored and made a tower," Kael muttered, pulling a scarf over his mouth as they crested a ridge.
Ezra didn't answer.
His gaze remained fixed on the monolith in the distance. It looked like it had been forged from black steel and bone—twisted and warped, rising miles into the sky. Red lights pulsed in uneven windows, and faint echoes drifted on the wind.
It wasn't just a building.
It was a signal.
"One of the Spires," Ezra murmured.
Vesper adjusted the scanner on her wrist. "This is worse than the last one. Seismic tremors, unstable mana surges, anomalous life signs. And the undead signature coming from that thing… it's not just strong. It's intelligent."
Kael spat. "Another king waiting on a throne?"
Ezra shook his head. "No. This one isn't waiting."
He stepped forward, voice low. "It's hunting."
The Caravan
Their caravan—five transport crawlers and three squads of hybrid militia—had taken the better part of a week to reach the Ash Wastes. The land around Ashspire was unclaimed territory, scorched during the Surge and left to rot. No factions controlled it. No trade passed through it.
Most called it cursed.
Ezra now understood why.
During the journey, they'd passed through abandoned settlements—towns glassed over by intense heat. They saw frozen skeletons in mid-run, as if fleeing some massive explosion. The roads had warped and melted into rivers of fused stone.
There were no animals. No birds. No bugs.
Just… silence.
And yet Ezra felt them.
The dead.
Watching.
Waiting.
"We'll camp here tonight," Ezra said, tapping a nearby plateau on the map. "We'll go in at dawn."
Kael looked at him, then at the others.
"Do we even know what's inside?"
Ezra nodded once.
"Pain."
Campfire Hours
That night, under a shelter of scavenged plating, Ezra found himself sitting apart from the others. The flickering fire cast deep shadows across the ash-stained ground. He held a small pendant in his hand—an old, tarnished piece of metal shaped like a bird in flight.
It was the only thing he had from the orphanage.
He remembered the old keeper who had given it to him. Sister Mora. Her body had been one of the first he raised without meaning to. He hadn't meant to cry. Or scream. Or call her back. But he did.
And when she'd risen, she'd whispered his name… before collapsing again.
It had never left him.
The guilt. The weight. The knowledge that power—his power—was forged from loss.
"You still wear that?" Vesper's voice came from behind.
He didn't turn. "Yeah."
"You never talk about where you're from."
"Not much to say. Grew up in Lower Sectors. Was a nobody. Watched people die. Starved a few times. Killed a few more."
She stepped closer and sat beside him, dust swirling in their shared silence.
"And now you're supposed to save the world."
Ezra snorted. "No one said I had to save it."
"You're gathering ancient powers, building undead armies, discovering forgotten civilizations… kinda seems like fate's got plans."
Ezra looked down at the pendant.
"If fate wants something from me, it can come take it itself."
Ashspire – Entry
Dawn never truly broke in the Wastes. The sky simply became less dark.
They approached Ashspire in full formation. Scouts took flanking positions. The crawlers stopped three clicks out, weapons aimed and ready to retreat if needed.
Ezra stood at the front, flanked by Vesper and Kael. His gauntlet glowed faintly—still resonating from the fragment of Vael's crown. The air grew heavier with every step.
"Gate's open," Vesper said.
Indeed, the front of the tower was split wide like a wound, jagged steel forming a twisted archway. Smoke spilled out in slow spirals, and the stone beneath their feet trembled with a pulse.
Thump. Thump.
Like a heartbeat.
"Anyone else feel like we're walking into a trap?" Kael grumbled, weapon raised.
Ezra nodded. "We are."
And then, without another word, he entered.
Inside Ashspire
The interior of the spire was a nightmare turned architecture.
Walls breathed. Floors shifted underfoot like slick flesh. The air buzzed with static, as if filled with the whispers of the damned. Massive bones jutted from the walls, fused with machinery. Faces—half-formed and frozen in silent screams—bulged from the surfaces.
This wasn't just a necromancer's domain.
It was a living tomb.
Ezra stepped carefully, scanning for threats, but none came. Not yet.
Instead, a voice greeted them.
"Child of the Hollow… you tread ancient ground."
It wasn't Vael's voice.
This one was feminine. Fluid. Almost… mocking.
Ezra slowed. "Who are you?"
"I am Altheria. Once Queen of the Dust Court. Now, Shepherd of the Ashspire."
Kael raised his blade. "Another damn monarch."
But Altheria's laugh was soft. Chilling.
"Not a queen anymore. Just a ghost with a throne of bones. Come. Let us test your worth."
Trial of the Hollow Flame
The corridor warped around them—walls stretching into infinity, floors turning to molten obsidian. The others vanished, blinked from existence. Ezra found himself alone in a circle of ash, facing a massive gate shaped like an open ribcage.
It creaked open.
Inside, a beast waited.
It was made of ash and bone, shaped like a lion but with three heads—one human, one skull, and one crowned in flame. Its ribs were open, revealing a burning heart. Its eyes gleamed with hunger.
[TRIAL: DEFEAT THE GUARDIAN OF THE FLAME][REWARD: ASHEN CORE — RANKED RELIC]
Ezra didn't hesitate.
He charged.
The Battle
The beast moved faster than it had any right to. Its skull-head breathed necrotic flame; the human one sang a song that weakened Ezra's limbs. The crowned head spoke incantations, warping the very ground he stood on.
Ezra ducked a blast of fire, rolled behind a bone pillar, and reached for the gauntlet.
Necromantic energy surged.
"Come to me."
Three skeletons clawed free from the ground—but not ordinary ones. These were made of obsidian, glowing red from within. The Ashspire had infected even the dead.
They lunged at the beast, buying Ezra time.
He charged again, slamming a blast of dark energy into its flank. The human head screamed and shattered. It reared back—striking two of his undead aside with a tail made of linked femurs.
Ezra bled from the mouth. His vision blurred.
But he smiled.
Because he was learning.
Every time the beast attacked, it opened its ribs—exposing the core.
This was no mindless guardian.
It was a puzzle.
And Ezra was very, very good at breaking things apart.
Endgame
With one final push, he dove under the beast's strike, slid across the ash, and fired a concentrated bolt of necrotic force directly into its exposed heart.
The core shattered.
The beast let out a final shriek before collapsing into dust.
[TRIAL COMPLETE][You have obtained: ASHEN CORE][A Relic forged from forgotten flame. Enhances fire-based necromancy. Evolves with use.]
Ezra stood, panting, bleeding—but alive.
Then, the chamber shifted again, and Altheria's voice returned.
"Interesting… you might be worthy after all."
Outside the Trial
Ezra reappeared beside Vesper and Kael, both of whom looked shaken.
"You disappeared," Vesper hissed. "So did we."
Kael nodded grimly. "I had to fight my own damn shadow."
Ezra held up the Ashen Core. "We passed."
"Passed what?" Vesper asked.
Ezra didn't answer.
Because a second presence now stirred inside Ashspire.
A deeper one.
Older than Altheria.
Beneath their feet, the tower moved.
A Message from the Immortals
Thousands of miles away, in a suspended citadel orbiting the shattered remnants of Earth's original moon, a figure in golden armor reviewed recent anomalies in the system.
"Three Spires have awakened," the figure said.
A robed assistant bowed. "And the Hollowborn?"
"Accelerating. Far faster than predicted."
The figure turned to a massive wall of glowing symbols.
"Send a message to the Circle. The balance is tipping."
He turned.
Golden eyes glowing.
"It's time we intervene."