Veilstrum

Arkan's breaths came shallow and uneven, each inhale scraping against his lungs as though the air itself resisted him. His body trembled, not from exhaustion but from the raw, unbridled terror that clung to him like a second skin. The glow of the shard in his hand had dimmed, pulsing faintly, as though it, too, were catching its breath after the burst of light that had saved him.

The ruins around him were silent once more, the ash and rubble unmoving. But Arkan's heart wouldn't slow. It couldn't—not with the lingering sensation that something, or someone, was still watching him.

He forced himself to his feet, his legs shaking under his weight. Every step crunched against the debris, the sound unnaturally loud in the suffocating stillness. He glanced down at the shard in his palm, its jagged edges glinting faintly. What are you? The question looped in his mind. It had saved him—but why? And why had it chosen him?

Before he could grasp an answer, the air grew colder, biting into his skin despite the lingering heat of the destruction around him. A low hum resonated through the ruins, faint at first but growing louder, vibrating in his bones. The shard pulsed again, brighter, and the faint whisper returned.

"...Run…"

Arkan's breath caught. The voice was urgent, but his legs refused to move. The hum intensified, morphing into a deep, guttural resonance. Shadows coalesced ahead of him, pooling together like ink bleeding across the fabric of reality.

And then, it spoke.

"So this is the little insect who survived."

The voice was deep and grating, dripping with malice and condescension. Arkan stumbled back as the shadow took shape, growing taller, more defined, until a figure emerged—a monstrous, distorted mockery of humanity. Its body seemed stitched together from fragments of darkness, its form writhing and incomplete, as though reality itself couldn't fully contain it.

Two sickly green eyes burned in the creature's face, their glow piercing through the darkness.

"I am Morrak," it said, its voice echoing unnaturally. "A lieutenant of Nullus. And you, boy, are nothing more than an accident—a crack in the void that needs sealing."

Arkan's heart pounded in his chest. He tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat. The oppressive aura radiating from Morrak made it hard to even think.

The creature tilted its head, studying him with cold amusement. "But this…" Morrak's gaze flicked to the shard in Arkan's hand. "This is interesting. Nullus was right to send me. That shard doesn't belong to this realm—or any realm, for that matter."

Arkan gritted his teeth, summoning every ounce of courage he had. "If it's so important, why don't you take it and leave me alone?"

Morrak chuckled, a sound that sent shivers racing down Arkan's spine. "Oh, I will take it, eventually. But not yet. You see, Nullus doesn't just want the shard—he wants to know why it chose you. And so do I."

With a wave of his hand, Morrak summoned more shadows, the air around him distorting. From the darkness, smaller creatures began to emerge—twisted, incomplete forms like those Arkan had faced earlier, but faster and more vicious.

"Let's see if you're worth the effort," Morrak said, his grin widening. "Show me what that shard can do."

The creatures lunged at Arkan.

He barely had time to react, throwing himself to the side as one of them slashed at him with claws that shimmered like broken glass. His movements were clumsy, instinctive, and the rubble beneath his feet made it impossible to stay balanced.

Another creature leapt at him, and Arkan swung wildly, his fist connecting with its misshapen jaw. It barely flinched, knocking him back with a single swipe of its arm. Pain erupted in his side as he hit the ground, but he forced himself up, desperation driving him forward.

The shard pulsed again, brighter this time. The voice returned, stronger now.

"Focus… Feel… Weave."

Arkan froze, the words cutting through the chaos. The creatures circled him, their glowing eyes narrowing as they prepared to strike again.

"I don't know how!" he shouted, clutching the shard tighter.

"Feel," the voice repeated, unwavering.

As the first creature lunged, Arkan closed his eyes, instinct taking over. He felt the shard's energy coursing through him, a strange warmth that spread to his fingertips. In his mind's eye, threads of light unraveled, crisscrossing the space around him like a web. He reached for them, pulling on the closest strand.

A barrier of shimmering light erupted in front of him, intercepting the creature mid-attack. It screeched as it collided with the barrier, its form disintegrating on contact.

The other creatures hesitated, their movements faltering. Arkan opened his eyes, his breath hitching as he saw the glowing threads stretching out from his hands, weaving patterns in the air around him.

The shard pulsed again, the light intensifying.

The remaining creatures charged, but this time, Arkan was ready. He moved with purpose, weaving the threads into shapes he didn't fully understand but instinctively trusted. A burst of light shot forward, cutting through the creatures like a blade.

When the last of them fell, the threads faded, and Arkan collapsed to his knees, the shard's glow dimming once more.

Morrak clapped slowly, the sound mocking and deliberate. "Impressive. Raw, unrefined, but impressive nonetheless." He stepped closer, his towering form casting a shadow over Arkan. "You might actually prove entertaining. I'll let you live, for now. Nullus will enjoy watching you struggle."

Arkan glared up at him, his body too weak to stand. "Why… Why don't you kill me now?"

Morrak's grin widened. "Because it's far more satisfying to watch you fall apart piece by piece. Consider this mercy—or cruelty. It's all the same to me."

With that, Morrak's form dissolved into shadow, his voice lingering in the air. "Enjoy your reprieve, Weaver. It won't last."

The oppressive aura lifted, and Arkan fell forward, gasping for air.

For a long moment, he lay there, staring at the shard in his hand. Its glow was faint, but steady, like a heartbeat.

The voice returned, softer this time.

"You've taken the first step. Now, walk forward."

Though his body screamed in protest, Arkan forced himself to his feet. In the distance, faint tracks led away from the ruins—proof that someone or something had passed through. With no other choice, he stumbled after them, leaving behind the shattered remnants of his past.