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The air was still when I awoke… not a leaf stirring, not a bird calling. Dawn had slipped into the valley unnoticed, painting the sky in pale gold, but the world around me lay hushed as if waiting. I rose from beneath the ancient oak, tracing my fingers over the rough bark, feeling the echoes of yesterday's shadows. The fragments on my palm glowed faintly… six of them now, each a promise and a burden.
I wrapped my cloak tight and stepped onto the dew-soft grass. The valley stretched before me, gentle slopes giving way to jagged cliffs on the far horizon. I could feel the pull of the unseen realm still tugging at the edges of my mind… a whisper lost on mortal ears. But today, I did not seek whispers. I sought a gate… the shattered gate I had glimpsed in visions when I first touched the abyss.
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I walked eastward, following a dried creek bed that wound through tangled brush. The ground was hard underfoot, stones pressed into place by seasons of water. Every step stirred memory… the time I had delved into a grotto, the taste of cold air, the ache of awakened fragments. Six glimmers of abyssal light beneath my skin, and the world still turned.
After hours… the creek bed led me to a narrow ravine. Its walls rose steep and rough, etched with centuries of wind and rain. At the ravine's mouth lay a broken arch… two stout pillars of black stone, toppled, their carved surfaces marred by age. The space between them formed a gap just wide enough to step through. A gate without a gate… the Shattered Gate of legend.
I paused before the ruins, heart steady. The abyss inside me thrummed… not with invitation, but acknowledgment. This was a place of transitions… where realms overlapped. Where Heaven and abyss had once clashed in silence.
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I stepped through the gap.
The instant I did, the world shifted. Nothing dramatic… no flash of light or violent tremor. But every breath felt heavier, as though the air had thickened. The stones of the arch whispered under my fingers… a soft sigh of welcome or warning I could not tell.
Beyond the gate lay a meadow of withered grass, pale and brittle. No birds sang here. No wind moved. The space felt frozen between moments. I walked forward, each footstep stirring dust that hung in the air like glowing motes.
At the meadow's center stood a stone dais, circular and low, carved with concentric rings of runes. The innermost ring was sealed… cracked but intact. The outer rings lay shattered, fragments scattered like broken teeth. I knelt at the dais's edge, tracing a rune with my fingertip.
A pulse shot up my arm… six fragments of light flaring. The dais responded, faint glow kindling along the runes. The cracked seal in the center shivered, veins of silver light dancing in the crevices.
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I closed my eyes.
The abyss spoke, soft and patient.
> "You have come beyond the broken gate."
I inhaled deep… letting the weight of the stones and silence fill me.
> "Few return from this place."
I opened my eyes. The dais glowed beneath my palm… runes bright with memory.
> "Will you bind or be bound?"
The question settled around me, heavy as stone. I had come seeking answers. I had come to forge my path beyond what Heaven or abyss alone could grant.
I pressed my palm to the seal. The runes flared… six sparks dancing along my wrist. My vision trembled… then sharpened. I saw through the cracks… into the realm beyond.
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A corridor of shadow and flame stretched before me, walls lined with broken mirrors that reflected nothing but black. The mirrors whispered names I could not hear… a chorus of echoes from those who had dared the gate. I took a step… then another… each one measured, aware of destiny unfolding at my feet.
Beneath me, the dais trembled. Silver light spilled through the cracks, pooling at the gaps in the outer rings. My fragments pulsed, eager to guide, eager to claim. I shut my eyes, centering my breath… steadying my heart.
And then… I stepped across the threshold.
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The corridor gave way to a vast chamber… dim but for the glow of floating motes that drifted like lanterns in the dark. Pillars rose overhead, carved with scenes of celestial wars and abyssal pacts. At the far end stood a throne of broken bone and crystal… empty, but humming with power.
I felt the abyss stir… an echo of hunger and memory. The fragments on my palm glowed brightly… six lights blazing against the cavern's gloom. I walked forward, leaving dusting footprints on the smooth floor. The chamber watched me… walls breathing with anticipation.
I reached the throne and knelt. My reflection danced in the shattered crystals… a lone figure draped in dark robes, palm lit by abyssal fire. I raised my hand and pressed it to the bone armrest.
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The moment my palm touched bone, the chamber shuddered. Motifs in the pillars flickered. The throne's seat shifted… crystallized cracks mended, then fractured again. The motes coalesced into forms… flickers of memory given shape.
I saw a girl kneeling before the throne, wrists bound in radiant chains… a man standing behind her, blade raised… a child weeping into dust. Faces blurred by time, voices lost. Then… one face remained clear.
Mine.
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I gasped, falling back onto my heels. The fragments flared, six sparks spinning into a vortex of light. The chamber roared with silent thunder. Dust rose from the floor, swirling around me.
> "You walk the path of echoes," a voice said from everywhere and nowhere.
> "You bind the fragments of those who came before."
My heart hammered. I pressed a hand to my chest… six lights pulsing in unison.
> "Will you claim their power… or their fate?"
I stared at the throne. Bone and crystal merged in impossible angles. The shards hummed with sorrow and rage… memories reaching out.
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I rose and stepped forward… each movement resolute. I placed both hands on the armrests. The throne welcomed me… warm beneath my palms. My fragments flared… six beacons of crimson.
> "You choose both," I whispered. "I claim their power, but not their fate."
The crystals shattered in a cascade of light. The bone cracked, then crumbled to dust. The motes scattered, drifting into the shadows. The corridor behind me collapsed… stone grinding stone.
I staggered back, breathing hard. The dais's glow faded. The gate to the corridor closed. I stood alone once more in the shattered throne chamber.
But I felt different.
Stronger.
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I stepped back through the threshold… returning to the dais with the broken rings. The runes were dim. The crack in the seal felt less jagged. My fragments pulsed… six sparks steady, marking a new bond.
I knelt and traced the outlines of the outer rings. Each fragment's light seeped into their grooves… threads of crimson weaving between silver. Where runes had collapsed, new symbols bloomed… intricate and alien.
The dais was mended…. but not whole. It remained a broken circle with scars that glowed faintly. A testament to what had been shattered… and what had been reclaimed.
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I rose at last, stepping away from the dais. The corridor collapsed behind me into dust. The archway of the Shattered Gate loomed above… shards of stone hanging like stalactites. I stepped through it, leaving the chamber sealed once more.
Outside, morning had turned to noon. The valley was alive with sound… wind through the grass, distant birdcalls, the murmur of leaves. I stood at the ravine's mouth, fragments still pulsing, six sparks of abyssal light beneath my skin.
I pressed a hand to my palm… feeling warmth and memory intertwined. The abyss had gifted me… or taught me… the cost of going beyond the gate. I had claimed the echoes of the past… but I had not been bound by them.
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I turned and walked down the ravine path, each step measured. My cloak flowed behind me. The sun shone overhead… not as judgment, but as witness. The world stretched before me, vast and full of secrets. The unseen realm had spoken… and I had replied with choice.
My heart was steady. My fragments glowed. The path remained uncertain… but it was mine.
And beyond every shattered gate… I would walk on.
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