Trapped In Don's Web

The journey back from Old Virella was silent

Bloodied, bruised, and burdened by more than just the battle, the Guardians sat scattered across the shuttle's cabin. No one spoke. There were too many thoughts unraveling at once, too many questions blooming in the silence.

Elena sat near the viewport, the shattered piece of the Prophet's golden mask resting in her gloved hand. She hadn't let go of it since they escaped the Crucible. Her reflection in the glass shifted with every flash of passing clouds, but her thoughts were fixed on that brief glimpse—those familiar eyes behind the mask.

Someone she once knew. Someone who had changed.

Or maybe someone who had never truly revealed who they were.

Luca was waiting at the landing pad when they returned. He strode forward, his coat flaring in the wind, eyes scanning each of them for injuries before they even disembarked. He paused slightly longer on Elena, as if sensing something deeper was wrong.

Inside the estate, the Guardians regrouped. Kael was taken to the infirmary, Riven uploaded the Prophet's recorded voice lines for analysis, and Ayla paced in the war room with her arms crossed, jaw tight.

"That wasn't just a test," Ayla said. "It was a message. He wanted us to see him. To see that he knows us."

Calen leaned forward. "And he wanted us to break. But we didn't."

Elena finally placed the strip of mask on the table.

"I recognized him," she said. "Or... I think I did. It was fast, but something about his eyes. The way he moved. It was familiar."

Luca looked at the mask, frowning. "Anyone who would wear the Eclipse symbol and orchestrate something like that knows our history. Knows you."

Adrian entered, holding a sealed data drive. "Riven isolated a signature frequency from the Prophet's mask. A communication ping—short range. Whoever he is, he's not just commanding a cult. He's networked into something bigger.

Elena turned to him, her voice low. "Can we trace it?"

"Not directly," Adrian said. "But it bounced through an encrypted relay we've seen before. From the old Vault records. The kind used by the Crimson Eclipse during the First Collapse."

Luca's eyes narrowed. "Then we're dealing with a revival movement."

"Or worse," Ayla said. "A descendant."

Silence fell.

That night, Elena returned to her quarters and activated her private console. She loaded the old family files—those kept hidden even from the Guardians. Her father's voice logs, encrypted photos, and journal entries flickered on the screen.

One file had never been opened. It was labeled with a single word:

CASSIAN.

She opened it.

A photo loaded—young, dark-haired, intense. Her father's protégé. A boy from the streets her father had taken in, trained, protected. Someone who had vanished without explanation years before her father's death.

And now, perhaps... returned.

As the pieces clicked into place, Elena felt the room spin.

Cassian.

The Prophet.

Her father had trusted him like a son.

And now, he was leading the enemy.

Elena gripped the edge of the console. Her thoughts were a storm, her memories traitors.

She remembered the boy with sharp eyes who used to spar with her in the garden. The one who used to say, "One day, I'll be stronger than the whole world."

He hadn't lied.

But he had changed.

Or maybe the world had changed him first

Back in the war room, Luca stared at the updated map of enemy movements. Adrian joined him, both watching the shifting symbols that marked suspected Council activity.

"She's not the same," Adrian said softly.

"None of us are," Luca replied.

"You think she can face him?"

Luca's jaw tightened. "She has to.

In the days that followed, the Guardians began preparing for the next move. Surveillance teams were sent to Old Virella's surrounding provinces. Ayla coordinated an intelligence sweep across Eldoria's border towns. Riven focused on decoding the last fragments of the Crucible's system.

But Elena had a different task.

She descended into the De Rossi estate's hidden vaults, where her father's legacy remained sealed. Files. Weapons. Confessions.

And questions.

The time for survival was over.

The time for answers had begun.

Elena's grip tightened around the jagged fragment of the Prophet's golden mask. Its edges bit into her palm, but she didn't care. Her eyes remained fixed on the smoke-veiled path where he had vanished—his presence still clinging to the air like ash.

Adrian's voice broke the silence behind her. "You saw something, didn't you?"

She nodded slowly, her voice quiet. "Not something. Someone. The eyes behind that mask... I recognized them."

Ayla and Calen turned sharply.

"Who?" Ayla asked, tense.

Elena swallowed. "I don't know. I—I can't be sure. It was only for a second. But it felt... familiar. Not just in the way someone looks. The way they watched me. Like they knew me. Deeply."

Calen's expression darkened. "If someone that close to you is wearing the Prophet's face, we've got more than infiltration on our hands."

Adrian rested a hand on her shoulder. "We'll figure it out. We'll dig through every file, every Council report, every name from your past. We'll find out who they are."

Elena nodded, trying to steady her racing thoughts. "We can't waste time. That mask fragment—it might carry residual code, biometrics. Riven can analyze it."

"Already ahead of you," Riven's voice crackled through their comms. "Scan the fragment now. Uploading link."

She held the golden shard up to her wrist comm. A soft hum responded, and data began to stream.

"I'll cross-reference the metallurgy with De Rossi archives," Riven continued. "And I'll loop Adrian in once I find a match."

"Good," Elena muttered. "We need answers. Fast."

Suddenly, Kael stirred on the stretcher nearby. His eyes fluttered open, blood crusted at his brow.

"Kael," Ayla knelt beside him quickly. "Stay still—you lost a lot of blood."

But Kael's eyes locked onto Elena. "He... he said something. When I fell."

Elena moved closer. "What did he say?"

Kael's voice was hoarse. "He whispered... 'Tell her it's not over. The cinders haven't cooled.'"

Elena froze.

Ayla looked confused. "What does that mean?"

Elena's heart sank. "It's a phrase from years ago. A motto... of someone who once stood with my father."

Adrian's brows furrowed. "You think the Prophet was someone on your father's team?"

"Or worse," she said coldly. "Someone who betrayed him."

That night, back at the estate, the rain returned—gentle now, like a lullaby masking the chaos to come.

Elena stood in the war room beside Luca, the mask shard resting on the table between them. Riven's analysis hovered in glowing projections above it.

"Traced," he said. "The metal alloy was only ever used in one known prototype mask—an experimental piece designed for infiltration agents during the early rise of the Mourning Council."

He zoomed in.

And there's a registered handler on file."

A name appeared.

Dario Moretti.

Elena's heart stopped.

"My father?"

"No," Riven said slowly. "Your father was the creator. But the one who wore this prototype? His best friend. Codename: Vex."

Luca leaned forward. "That name was on the Whisperer's original blacklist."

Elena's voice shook. "He disappeared the day my father died."

A long silence followed.

Then Adrian said it aloud. "Your father's closest ally may be the Eclipse Prophet."

As thunder rolled once more across Eldoria, the pieces began to fall into place—and the Guardians realized that the war was more personal than they ever imagined.

And the past was not done with them yet.

The rain tapped steadily against the glass panes as silence wrapped the war room like a shroud. No one spoke—not even Riven—as the name Vex echoed in their minds. Elena stood still, her knuckles white where they gripped the table's edge.

Adrian finally broke the quiet. "Vex… your father trusted him. Trained with him. If he really is the Eclipse Prophet..."

"He was family," Elena said hollowly. "He helped raise me when my mother died. He called me little flame." Her voice cracked. "If he betrayed my father..."

Luca stepped forward, his gaze fierce. "Then he'll answer for it."

But Elena's thoughts were miles away. Images rushed through her mind: a warm laugh, hands teaching her how to dismantle a firearm, the way Vex had always stood at her father's side like a shadow.

"He was the only one my father ever whispered secrets to," she murmured.

"And he's the one burning them now," Adrian said.

Riven adjusted the projection. "There's more. The encoded fragments on the shard weren't just decorative. It's a time-locked data vault."

The screen shimmered. A pulse of blue light flickered.

Then a single voice crackled through the speakers—familiar, grave, distorted by age and encryption.

"If you're hearing this, then the chain has been passed... and the endgame is in motion."

It was Dario Moretti—Elena's father.

Everyone stood frozen.

The recording continued.

"The Crimson Eclipse is not just a movement. It's a contingency. Built to outlive any of us. And if Vex has activated it... then he's turned from protector to predator."

"To my daughter: I knew this day might come. I only hope you've become the warrior I saw in your eyes the day you were born. Trust no one blindly. Even those you love can fall to the dark."

A pause.

"And remember: the truth isn't in the ashes. It's in the embers that refuse to die."

The message ended.

Elena stared at the empty screen, her throat tight.

The weight of legacy pressed against her shoulders, heavier than ever.

"He knew," she whispered. "My father knew Vex would betray him."

Luca looked at her. "Then we find him. We end it."

"No," Elena said, her eyes hardening. "We expose him first. We let the world see the mask fall—see the truth. No more whispers. No more shadows."

Adrian nodded. "Then we set the trap. But this time... we bring the fire."

Far away, in the crumbling ruins of an old cathedral drowned in shadow, the Eclipse Prophet—Vex—stood before a gathering of cloaked followers. Lightning flashed behind him, illuminating his face for a split second.

It wasn't rage in his eyes.

It wasn't fear.

It was anticipation.

He touched the line where Elena's blade had torn his mask.

"They remember," he said to the gathering. "Good."

He stepped forward,

voice calm.

"Let them come."

The following days were a blur of movement, planning, and silent tension.

Within the De Rossi estate, preparations intensified. Agents were deployed. Surveillance grids were expanded. Contacts in distant enclaves were activated to track the Eclipse Prophet's last known movements.

But beneath the action, emotions simmered like an untamed current.

Elena walked alone through the eastern gardens at dusk, the petals slick with dew and shadows draped in purple twilight. She held her father's encrypted message on a small, silver disc in her hand, playing it again and again in her mind.

Trust no one blindly... even those you love can fall to the dark."

Her father had known more than he ever told her. She wondered if Vex had betrayed him… or if it had been more complicated than that. Part of her—against all reason—hoped there was something salvageable. That the man who taught her to fight hadn't been a lie all along.

She didn't notice Luca until he spoke.

"You're thinking of him again."

She turned, startled, then sighed. "I can't help it. I grew up believing he'd take a bullet for my father. Turns out he probably pulled the trigger."

Luca stepped beside her. "The past doesn't make the man. The choices he makes now do. And the next one he makes might bring down everything we've built."

They were quiet for a while.

Then Elena said, "If I hesitate when I see him… remind me who he is now. Not who he was."

Luca's voice was soft, firm. "I won't let you hesitate. And I won't let him win."

Their eyes met—too many battles behind them, too many ahead. But in that moment, they were steady.

Together.

Meanwhile, in a secret vault beneath the city, Adrian, Riven, and Ayla stood before a massive holographic map slowly pulsing with red nodes.

Each one was a confirmed sighting or contact point linked to the Eclipse Prophet's resurgence.

Riven pointed. "These three locations align with ceremonial sites mentioned in the Crimson Eclipse codex. Old ritual grounds. Places of power."

Ayla's brow furrowed. "You think he's planning something… spiritual?"

"Symbolic," Adrian corrected. "The Prophet doesn't just want power. He wants belief. He wants to reignite something ancient—something people are afraid to admit they remember."

A pause.

Then Ayla asked the question on all their minds:

"What happens if he succeeds?"

Adrian's response was quiet, grim.

Then Eldoria won't fall to war. It'll fall to faith."

And as the city below glittered in gold and steel, unaware of the storm gathering in its foundations, Elena stepped inside the war room and issued the next command

"Ready the strike team. We find Vex before the eclipse rises."

Because this time, they weren't just hunting a ghost from the past.

They were preparing to stop a legend reborn.

Later that night, the storm broke.

Thunder rolled low across the city of Eldoria, and lightning flashed against the tall spires of the Guardian estate. Elena sat alone in the observatory, a high-domed chamber lined with ancient star charts and holographic readings. The chain from the Eclipse Prophet's envoy lay on the table before her, its links glinting faintly under the starlight projector above.

She stared at the broken piece of his golden mask—sharp, thin, and terrifyingly familiar.

In her other hand, she held the decrypted file Riven had completed an hour ago. Coordinates, ciphers, and dates all led to one undeniable truth:

The Prophet's next move would not be in hiding.

It would be public.

It would be catastrophic.

As she sat there, Luca entered quietly, a glass of dark wine in his hand. He said nothing at first, only set the glass down beside her.

Then, "You've made your decision."

She nodded, not looking up. "Tomorrow, we split. Ayla and Calen head to the cathedral ruins in Nareth. You and I go after Vex in Solari."

Luca's jaw tensed. "And Adrian?"

"He has to lead the team intercepting the Mourning Council's signal post near the border. If we take them down before they can activate the Eclipse's network… we have a chance."

"And if we don't?"

Elena finally looked up. Her voice was calm.

Then the sun sets on Eldoria."

Luca didn't flinch. He simply reached down, laced his fingers with hers, and held on.

For a long moment, there were no words—just the distant storm and the silent rhythm of two warriors preparing for war.

A war of prophecy.A war of blood.A war of truth.

And as the wind howled outside and the stars above shimmered faintly, Elena closed her eyes and whispered:

"Let them come.