The vastness of the Drift shuddered as Russ's ship emerged from subspace. Before them loomed the Shattered Expanse—a starless region where physics bent sideways, and reality often forgot itself. This was no place for the sane, or the living.
Yet somewhere within it was the Fourth Seal.
Kala frowned at the console. "Coordinates say we're here… but all I see is a black hole chewing on its own tail."
"That is the Seal," Russ whispered.
In the void ahead, an enormous, fractured ring of stone and metal hovered in defiance of gravity. Spiraling out from its center were tendrils of obsidian energy, frozen in perpetual unraveling. And at its heart, shackled between dimensions, was the Warden.
It wasn't a being. It was a concept forged into form—half-machine, half-shadow, all judgment. Its shape defied clarity: a dozen eyes, none facing the same direction; limbs that folded in impossible geometries; a voice that felt like your worst regrets spoken aloud.
> WHO APPROACHES THE THRESHOLD OF OBLIVION?
Kala recoiled. Russ stepped forward, feeling the Fourth Seal throb beneath his skin. "I do. I bear the Sigil. I am the Heir of the Void."
> YOU ARE THE CYCLE'S INFLECTION.
THE CHOICE INCARNATE.
WILL YOU SHACKLE THE VOID, OR SET IT FREE?
Russ hesitated. His memories were returning in fragments—glimpses of previous selves, each struggling, each failing. He'd sealed the Void before, locking it away from a universe that feared it.
But fear bred rot. And now, rot had reached the core.
"I'm not here to repeat the cycle," he said. "I'm here to end it."
The Warden's form flickered—pleased? Provoked? It was impossible to tell.
> THEN FACE THE GUARDIAN TEST.
SHOW US THE WORTH OF DEVIATION.
Without warning, space collapsed around Russ. He found himself standing on a floating shard of obsidian amid a tempest of memory-echoes. Across from him stood… himself.
But not quite.
This Russ wore ancient Void-armor, his eyes glowing with serene detachment. He was older, colder—what Russ might become if he chose only power.
"Another echo," Russ muttered. "Another version of me who thought he knew better."
The echo smiled grimly. "Not just an echo. A warning."
Their duel was wordless and brutal—each strike between them more conceptual than physical. Blades of willpower clashed. Shields of past regrets cracked. For every strike Russ landed, he saw flashes of lives that could have been—worlds he could've saved or destroyed.
The final blow shattered the echo's helm, revealing not hatred… but sorrow.
"You can't save them all," the older version whispered. "And trying might break you."
"I don't need to save everyone," Russ said, panting. "Just enough to make the Void mean something."
The vision faded.
Russ stood once more before the Warden, now silent and unmoving. The ring began to tremble.
> THE FOURTH SEAL IS BROKEN.
THE HEIR WALKS THE UNWRITTEN PATH.
The Seal within Russ pulsed. A wave of energy surged through the ship, through Kala, through the stars themselves.
Kala gripped the console. "What the hell just happened?"
"We passed," Russ said. "But now the Void is no longer bound by fate."
"So… good news?"
He shook his head. "It means the final two Seals will react. The others will come. The Usurper. The Hollow Kin. The False Prophet. They'll try to claim the Void for themselves."
Kala sighed. "Great. Just once, I'd like to have an adventure without some ancient space god trying to eat us."
Russ smirked. "You'll miss it when it's over."
She muttered, "I really won't."
The ship turned away from the Seal, now unraveling into motes of light.
The path ahead was no longer written.
But Russ was ready to write it—one star at a time.