The chamber was silent.
The kind of silence that only existed in places untouched by time. Not even the distant hum of mana lines remained—only the slow, steady pulse of something vast and ancient… something breathing through the cracks between realms.
Kaen stood in the center of the ritual hall beneath K-XIV, bare-chested, eyes closed. Thin veins of black shimmered faintly beneath his skin, like fractures in porcelain threatening to split wide. The ritual circle beneath his feet had been drawn not with chalk or blood, but with condensed Void threads—stitched into the floor with intent, thought, and power.
Before him, chained by ethereal bindings, knelt a man.
Still alive. Still aware.
He trembled not out of pain, but out of realization.
"You lied to me," the man whispered, voice hoarse. "You said I'd be rewarded."
Kaen opened his eyes. They held no anger. No hatred. Only understanding—and inevitability.
"I never lied," he said. "I said you'd be remembered."
Then, without another word, he extended his hand.
The man's scream echoed through the chamber as his soul was torn—not ripped forcefully, but unravelled gently, like a thread being pulled from fabric. It floated upward, twisting into spirals of light and shadow, pulled directly into the Null Fragment cradled in Kaen's palm.
The bindings faded. The body crumpled.
A moment later, from the Void circle behind Kaen, a shape began to rise.
The second avatar.
Its form was fluid at first—shifting between human and beast, between solidity and smoke. But as Kaen channeled more power, it began to stabilize. Taller than Wraith, it had no visible mouth, and its face was smooth like obsidian glass. Its arms were elongated, its fingers clawed. Unlike Wraith's blade-arm, this one had a whip-like appendage of pure Void energy coiled along its back.
Kaen stepped forward.
"You are no longer a soul," he whispered.
"You are a Reaver."
The creature bowed its head.
Wraith entered the chamber at that moment, watching silently.
"Two of them now," he said. "How many more do you plan to create?"
Kaen turned toward him. "As many as the world demands."
---
Above ground, in a hidden Dominion relay station, a distress signal flickered for a second before silencing itself.
The message, encrypted and routed through ancient ley-line mirrors, carried only a single phrase:
THE VOID MOVES.
It was received by four different nodes across the continent.
Within an hour, seven senior strategists had already abandoned their posts.
---
Back in K-XIV, Kaen sat before a rune-mirror embedded with fractured aether. The surface reflected not his image—but memory.
He watched it again.
The moment he fell.
Not just the betrayal, not the blade—he had seen that a thousand times. But this time, he focused on the expressions of those who did nothing. The ones who saw him being struck and chose silence.
They were just as guilty.
Cowards, liars, false friends.
They had let the system crush him because it was easier than standing beside him.
Kaen's fingers curled slowly.
"Never again."
He stood, and a surge of Void rippled through the chamber. Not violent—but immense. Like gravity adjusting around a growing star.
Wraith, standing nearby, turned to him. "You're changing again."
Kaen nodded. "The more I remember, the less I feel bound to who I was."
"Is that a good thing?"
Kaen gave no answer.
---
Reven met Kaen in the strategy hall later that day. The table was covered with old Dominion maps—territories, strongholds, fracture zones, forgotten prisons.
"We've reactivated the Seer Node at Sector Nine," Reven said. "It's showing increasing aether instability across three faultlines. Void may be waking up old leylines."
Kaen studied the maps.
"They'll try to contain it."
"They already are," Reven said. "And they're using something new."
He placed a crystal on the table. Within it shimmered the distorted outline of a creature—not Dominion-made. Not natural.
"Void Hunters," he said. "Constructs made from the shattered will of ancient gods. Dominion reengineered them after your fall."
Kaen said nothing for a long while.
Then: "Let them come."
---
At night, Kaen returned to his chamber.
The second avatar—now named Vorn—stood silently in the corner, still adapting to its new form. Wraith remained watchful. He had grown quieter since Kaen's transformation intensified, more introspective.
Kaen sat at the edge of the platform and whispered into the air.
"Show me more."
And the Void answered.
---
He was pulled into a memory—not his own.
He stood in a ruined temple, watching as fire rained from above. Creatures of bone and black glass screamed in the sky, while men in golden armor fought against shadows that split the air like blades. A war—long past, long buried.
He saw a figure standing in the center of the battlefield. Not himself. But someone... similar.
Tall. Calm. Surrounded by Void.
But this being's power had collapsed everything around him. Friend. Foe. World.
The memory ended with a whisper.
You are not the first.
Kaen woke in a cold sweat, though his body no longer required sleep.
He stared at the ceiling for a long time.
"…Then I must be the last."
---
The next morning, Kaen summoned both Wraith and Vorn into the main chamber.
He laid out three tasks.
Wraith would infiltrate the Western Gate of Dominion—a fortified zone hiding old weapon caches from the last Void war.
Vorn would descend into the fracture known as the Hollow Spine, where Void tendrils had begun to seep upward. His mission: awaken the sleeping sentience buried beneath.
And Kaen...
He would walk into the capital itself.
Alone.
Wraith spoke first.
"Are you certain? You're still adapting to—"
Kaen raised a hand.
"This isn't an assault. It's a message."
He looked at them both.
"They need to see me again—not as a ghost, not as a myth."
"As a consequence."
---
Three nights later, under a blood-red moon, Kaen entered the city of Astranil.
He wore a black cloak with no crest. No guards stopped him. No wards triggered. He walked through the outer ring unnoticed—until he stepped into the central plaza before the Grand Spire.
There, hundreds of Dominion citizens looked up as time... slowed.
The air thickened.
The sky flickered.
Then they saw him.
Some gasped. Some whispered.
Some fell to their knees.
Kaen stood in silence.
Then he raised his hand and placed it over his chest—where the Null Fragment pulsed.
And without saying a word, he vanished.
---
Across the world, the echoes traveled.
A child with silver eyes in a forest far to the east woke screaming.
A Seer in exile collapsed into a seizure.
A dead star blinked back into existence for five seconds before vanishing.
The Void had spoken.
Kaen Valcarys was no longer hiding.
---