The void between worlds was not silent—it whispered.
A low hum pulsed through the eternal black, as if the universe itself mourned the stars that once burned there. In that emptiness, something vast and terrible drifted: an empire forged of shadow and desire.
Nyx'var, the Dominion of the Dark Elves.
A realm carved from the corpse of a dying god, suspended between existence and oblivion. Its spires rose from an ocean of darkness, each one shaped from living obsidian that pulsed like a beating heart. The air shimmered with traces of void essence; every breath carried the scent of decay and promise.
At the center of that cosmic abyss stood the Eclipsed Citadel, a fortress woven from shadow and starlight. Its walls absorbed light, and its towers revolved slowly around a black sun—Nyx'var's heart, a singularity that pulsed to the rhythm of eternity.
Within that hall of eternal night, the Dark Council convened.
The air thickened as the great obsidian doors parted.
From the darkness emerged a tall figure—armor glinting faintly with threads of gold buried beneath layers of black.
Ardent Halburn.
The Ebon Sovereign.
The Fallen Star of Halburn.
His steps were measured, each echo carrying the weight of countless sins.
At the far end of the hall sat Velyra Nyx'var, the Matriarch of Shadows. Her throne bloomed from a mass of blackened roots and crystalline veins. Her skin shimmered faintly violet beneath the darkness, and her eyes were twin crescents of amethyst flame.
She smiled when she saw him—cold, predatory, and beautiful.
"The light-bringer returns to the shadows," she purred. "Tell me, Ardent Halburn… does the taste of betrayal still linger?"
Ardent didn't answer. His gaze swept across the gathered council—dark generals, high warlocks, and shadow priests—all of them bound by pacts older than time.
He stopped before the central dais and spoke, his voice deep, calm, but with an undertone of command that silenced the room.
"The Seal of Eternity has shifted. The Aether stirs once more."
Murmurs rippled through the hall. Shadows trembled; runes flickered.
Velyra tilted her head.
"The Aether? After twelve billion years? Impossible. The Heart of Eternity was lost when your kind fell."
"It was sealed," Ardent corrected quietly. "But the seal is weakening."
He lifted his hand, conjuring a sphere of faint, golden light—an anomaly in that realm of darkness. Within it flickered an image: a faint heartbeat, distant yet constant.
"The pulse of Aether," he said softly. "Faint… but alive."
The council fell silent. Even the shadows seemed to hold their breath.
Velyra's smile sharpened.
"Alive, you say? Then the bearer lives as well. The Halburn line… endures."
Ardent's eyes glowed faintly, a dying sun burning behind the veil.
"The boy survived."
A hiss ran through the chamber.
"Impossible," one warlock snarled. "The planet burned! Not even a god could survive that!"
"Not a god," Ardent murmured, lowering his hand. "But the son of one who defied time itself."
The Matriarch leaned forward, her gaze cutting through the dim.
"And what will you do, Ebon Sovereign? Kill him as you killed his father? Or chain him, as you once chained your guilt?"
The golden fire in Ardent's eyes flared.
"Neither," he said. "If the Aether has awakened, then fate has already chosen its path. But I will not allow it to repeat the cycle. The Heart of Eternity belongs to no one—not even him."
A pause.
Then, softer:
"I will end what Chronalis began."
The council erupted in whispers. The mention of the Celestial of Time—the progenitor of both the Halburn bloodline and the Aether—was blasphemy even here.
But Velyra only laughed, her voice like the chiming of broken glass.
"You speak of ending a god's will while kneeling beside his corpse, Sovereign. Tell me, how long will you pretend to control the dark when the dark already owns you?"
Ardent turned away. Shadows coiled around him, shifting like smoke.
"I am not bound by shadow," he said. "I command it."
The hall dimmed as his aura spread—golden threads of divine energy twisting with the black of Nyx'var's void essence. The fusion of light and darkness caused the chamber's foundations to tremble.
The Matriarch's laughter faded. Her tone grew sharp, reverent even.
"You walk a dangerous line, Ardent Halburn. Between light and void… between god and monster."
"I have walked it before," he replied. "And I will again."
As he left the chamber, the shadows parted around him. Beyond the Eclipsed Citadel's walls, the fleets of Nyx'var waited—living ships, forged of bone and voidsteel, their hulls pulsing with the blood of slain stars.
Ardent looked upon them, his expression unreadable.
[Aether Pulse Detected: Subject—Kaleo Halburn. Location—Unknown.]
The ancient whisper echoed faintly in his mind, carried by remnants of the Celestial link he once severed.
He closed his eyes, the faintest tremor crossing his lips.
"So… the boy still breathes."
He raised his hand, summoning a blade forged of twilight—half black, half gold. The weapon hummed softly, resonating with the same divine frequency that once ruled the heavens.
"Then fate has chosen its game," he murmured. "Let us see how long the heart can endure… before it breaks."
And somewhere, across light-years of void and time,
a faint heartbeat answered.