Cherreads

Chapter 161 - One Foot in the Grave

A/N: Enjoy the chap! Throw some stones please! I'd also like to see you all comment cuz quite bored without reading some thoughts. (Notice how I didn't ask for reviews? Because I know you guys will give them to me!) (O_O)

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Void raised his hand, lightning dancing across his fingertips. With a sharp exhale, he thrust his fist forward.

Crack.

The stone groaned violently as Void's thundering strike ruptured it from its center. A web of glowing fractures spread across the surface before it shattered entirely.

Dust and debris collapsed inward, revealing a set of stairs carved from lunar rock, spiraling down into the abyss below. Cold air leaked out of the opening, spreading a sickly chill that seemed to seep into his skin through the armor.

He shivered slightly.

Void rubbed his hands together as he exhaled, his breath condensing to a white fog as it scattered. Void walked forward, and descended. Step by step, he continued downwards. 

Obsidian followed behind him in silent vigilance, occasionally scanning the structure, silently pulsing with curiosity.

The deeper Void went, the quieter it became—until even the sound of his own footsteps seemed to fade into the dark.

Eventually, the spiraling steps seemed to end, replaced by a marbled floor and an opening that seemed to stretch into the distance.

Void eyes widened as he arrived at a massive chamber, so vast it disappeared into darkness in every direction. The floor was flattened into blackened stone, the walls of the chamber were hollowed out, replaced by archaic ledges.

Void stumbled forward, gazing in awe as his attention went towards the towering walls. They stretched up higher than he could see, each one carved with recessed grooves forming thousands upon thousands of shelves. And on those shelves, he saw it.

'Scrolls. Millions of them.' Void's brows furrowed.

He approached cautiously, each step echoing into the abyss ahead, his presence itself felt like a challenge to the silence. Void reached the rocky shelves, and as he stood before them, his eyes flickered. 

The scroll, was breathing. He could see it. He was sure of it. It was as if the scroll itself was alive.

"What...is this?" Void placed his hand on the shelf, softly brushing through the dust caking the scroll's parchment. 

But as his fingers brushed the tanned and bruised parchment of the scroll. A sudden chill jolted through his chest, eerie whispers echoed in his ears, his throat dried up, his fingers twitched, his hands trembled. 

"Ungh!" He jerked his hand back, heaving a soft breath as he recalled the sensation on his fingers.

The scrolls were made of something not quite parchment—tanned, twisted, and strangely pulsing. Its surface felt like a mix of leather and something wrong. Void examined it closer, carved into it were runes, ancient and unsettling.

"Scan the scrolls." Void rubbed his finger as he glanced at the pulsing scrolls.

Obsidian scanned it but stuttered. "The symbols aren't in any of the city's archives. This, is a language. But It's older than old. It's beyond ancient. There's not a record of a language like this that we know of."

Void nodded as he took another look at the runes etched into the odd parchment.

Then, Zamyr stirred.

~That's because it's not meant to be read~

The voice curling around Void, ~This, is the language of the soul.~

Void raised a brow, "The soul. But if its still a language, that means we can decipher it, can we not?"

Zamyr chuckled as if he'd heard a ridiculous notion.

~The language of souls stands through time. Nothing can break it. It does not need deciphering. You must experience it yourself.~ Zamyr's voice faded as a pale light curled around the scroll, nudging it outwards.

~Feed it. Just a flicker. Let the Light kiss the surface~

Void hesitated. Then, cautiously, he held out his hand and let a tiny arc of Light crackle from his palm into the scroll.

The effect was immediate. The scroll shimmered, dark energy fogged up from its surface like smoke from embers. The runes detached from the scroll and coiled around Void's form in concentric spirals. He stiffened as a flood of images surged into his mind.

Void's breath quickened. His eyes, teared with blood. He reached to wipe his tears, but then his vision flickered.

He wasn't standing in the World's Grave anymore.

His vision blurred into chaos. Fires raged across alien skies. Cities crumbled. Great ships fell like dying stars. Species he had never seen were being slaughtered, enslaved, or annihilated.

His heart pounded. Void whipped around to see a legion sauntering towards him. The earth trembled as they walked. The air stirred with their magic, and as the unsheathed their blades, life itself quivered with fear.

The vision continued.

The Hive marched—unyielding, methodical, ravenous. Void watched how they evolved, how they fought through sheer brutality, not only surviving their conquests but transforming through them, growing stronger by killing. 

Void watched them, conquer and decimate the stars of the galaxy. Going from world to world, laying ruin to them all. The images seeped into his mind, etching them into his psyche.

A crushing headache pulsed as he was thrown out, his vision blurred again. Void winced in pain, the world flickered. 

He was back.

The scroll had shown him just one of their worlds. One galaxy, one extinction.

And it was only a sliver.

Void gasped, staggering back as the scroll floated to the shelf like nothing had happened.

He stood in silence, shaken.

Zamyr was the one to say it first.

~You've found it. The World's Grave.~

Void looked up.

Endless scrolls. Each one, a story. Each one, a star the Hive had extinguished.

"The greatest archive the Hive have ever built. To think we found it so fast." A grim look colored his face. What he remember of the World's Grave, was nothing like reality.

Void rubbed his finger again, his eyes darkening as his thoughts stirred. "That scroll. It was carved onto skin wasn't it?"

~Indeed, O brother mine~ 

This place wasn't just an archive. It was the sum total of the Hive's truth. Their Sword Logic immortalized—every victory, every conquest, every betrayal etched into the very skin of their victims. A vast library of genocide. Of ideology. Of power.

Void stared at the countless shelves before him. His thoughts raced again as he realized what the World's Grave represented.

Every scroll might hold knowledge about Hive rituals, secrets, structures. And maybe, just maybe even their weaknesses. Void's eyes gleamed, a flicker of hope bloomed in them. Perhaps, the world's grave would give birth be very place that spelled the Hive's demise.

Perhaps, something beyond death would spell the ruin of the undead.

"To think the Hive really wrote of everything they've ever done" Void whispered.

Obsidian flickered. "Should we… document it?"

"Everything," Void said. "As much as we can."

Zamyr hummed. ~Be cautious. Not every scroll has history. This is sacred ground to them.~

"Which makes it even more important we steal it. If we're lucky, we might just find their plans." Void nodded.

He moved quickly, scanning shelf after shelf. Some scrolls pulsed with magic too thick to touch. Others felt dormant, cold, long forgotten. But many responded to his presence. He began selecting them, laying them out in rows. Obsidian floated over each, creating digital imprints, analyzing aura density, tagging for translation later.

Then Void paused. 

"We'll need to find the scrolls related to earth too." He said. "Look for anything they have on us."

Zamyr nodded as his presence scattered through the archive, looking for even a sliver of knowledge that the Hive had hidden.

For hours—maybe days—he poured through them. Each Light-fed scroll assaulted his mind with a new history. One showed the Hive's first attempts to infiltrate the Sol system, thwarted by a Vex force they couldn't overpower. Another revealed the original rituals performed in the Hellmouth during its construction on the moon.

Another depicted the carving of a Hive rune deep in the Martian mountains—an anchor point for dark travel.

Scroll after scroll. Vision after vision. Void began to piece together something larger. Rather, he began to finally cement what he already knew. 

The Hive didn't act randomly. They followed specific plans. Every step they took was calculated centuries in advance.

This was strategy. They were never as mindless as everyone had thought. Rather, their plans had always stretched for centuries, never making sense in the short term.

He grit his teeth and kept going. But his eyes scanned the dark. Darting from corner to corner. 

At one point, Zamyr's voice cut through his focus. ~You're looking for the Keeper, aren't you.~

Void paused.

'Yes.' 

From what he remembered, the World's Grave was not unguarded. Somewhere within its maze of records was a singular Knight—immortal, eternal, silent. The one responsible for organizing the scrolls. A witness to all things.

But Void had seen no sign of him.

"Why hasn't he shown up?" Void asked.

~Because you haven't broken the rules yet~ Zamyr replied coolly.

Void frowned. "Rules?"

~You've been watching. Observing. With the Knight not being able to distinguish your presence, he thinks of you as just another wretched wizard, here for knowledge. But the moment you take something from this place… really take it—~

Zamyr left the rest unsaid.

Void glanced at the shelves again. So many truths, hidden in flesh and spell.

He turned to Obsidian.

"Keep scanning. Prioritize Earth-related records. Anything with lunar glyphs, Cosmodrome alignments, or Traveler sigils."

Obsidian nodded.

And so, Void worked.

And worked.

And worked.

He didn't sleep. He didn't eat. The World's Grave offered no comfort, no passage of time. Only an unending cold. A silence broken only by the quiet whisper of unraveling scrolls and the ghostly memories of species long gone.

Void's armor grew stained with the dust of bones and blood. His eyes hollowed from too many visions. But he kept going.

Every insight he gathered brought clarity. With the timelines shifted from its axis, this was the only way to make sure he was on the right track.

Every scroll he watched deepened his understanding—not only of Hive sorcery, but of their psychology. Their religion. Their inevitable trajectory.

He would understand this knowledge. Truly understand it. Make it his own.

And when the Hive came again? He would be ready.

=

A/N: Thanks for reading guys, I appreciate all the support! Do throw some stones though, rankings bit too low smh. Also check out my Patre*n!

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