The wind didn't howl here—it whispered. Whispered in a way that made your skin crawl and your breath catch in your throat. Every step Kael took felt heavier than the last, like the earth itself wanted him to turn back.
His boots pressed into the ashen soil, soft and brittle like forgotten bones. Elira walked beside him, silent. Her presence was steady, unshaken, like she'd been here before. But Kael could tell—she was tense. He could feel it in the way her hand rested near the hilt of her dagger, in how her gaze never left the Spire.
That cursed thing in the distance… it wasn't just a tower.
It was watching.
"…How much farther?" Kael's voice broke the silence. It sounded distant even to him, like it had been swallowed by the black sky.
Elira didn't answer right away.
Her gaze locked on the towering structure ahead—a twisted monolith of darkness that pierced the heavens. Not just dark. Not just black. It was void. A shade that consumed light itself, absorbing even the day and giving nothing back. Thunder crackled above it, but the sound never came. Only the electric hum—the heartbeat of something ancient.
Finally, she spoke. "We're almost there."
Kael exhaled sharply. "What's waiting for us?"
"You'll see soon enough."
He turned to her, annoyed. "You're not going to tell me, are you?"
Elira gave a faint smile, one that didn't reach her eyes. "The Spire doesn't give answers. It takes them."
And just like that, the silence returned. They kept moving.
Each step brought them closer—not just in distance, but in something intangible. Kael could feel it. The Spire wasn't just a place.
It was calling to him.
There was something twisted in how it tugged at his chest. Not physically, but deep, deeper than the soul. A magnetism born of fate. Of ruin. Of blood.
"You feel it, don't you?" Elira's voice sliced through the still air.
Kael didn't need to respond. She already knew the answer.
He nodded, barely.
It was a beckoning.
A promise.
A threat.
Suddenly— A scream.
Sharp. Wrong. Not human.
Kael froze, hand flying to the hilt of his blade. The cry echoed through the broken forest around them, rebounding off the dead trees like the final breath of something ancient and dying.
"…Did you hear that?"
Elira's face shifted, cold and grim. "We're not alone."
CRACK.
The ground erupted.
And from the earth came it.
A creature of pure blackened nightmare—formless and monstrous. Shadow-wrapped bones, jagged limbs, a face like a broken mask stretched into a permanent scream. Its eyes were twin embers of green sickness, and its breath came in low, gurgling gasps.
Kael's breath caught.
This wasn't just another beast.
This thing had malice.
"Stay back!" Elira snapped, summoning radiant light in her palms and flinging it forward. But the creature twisted—bent in ways nothing should bend—and absorbed it. Not dodged. Not blocked. Absorbed.
Kael didn't hesitate.
His sword screamed from its sheath as he lunged. Instinct led his arm, not thought. The blade met flesh—if you could call it that—and carved deep.
For a moment… silence.
Then the creature shrieked, and the air itself shook.
Kael staggered.
His hands trembled.
It wasn't just its scream—it was like the creature tore at the very sound around them.
"Elira! Get back!"
But she didn't move.
Kael didn't wait for her to. He struck again, and again, but each slash passed through smoke and sludge. The creature's body morphed, shifted, reformed. Solid. Liquid. Nothing.
"Damn it!" Kael spat. His blade might as well have been a feather.
"You need to use your power!" Elira's voice rang out. "The sword—let it guide you!"
His eyes widened.
The sword?
The warmth in the hilt… that thrum in his arm… He hadn't noticed before, but now—it surged.
As if awakened.
Kael didn't think.
He let go.
Not of the blade, but of control.
Power surged into him like a torrent. The world blurred—then focused. His heartbeat slowed. The cold vanished. The wind stopped.
The sword glowed.
Not with fire. Not with lightning.
But with something… real.
Light that cut through reality.
The creature recoiled.
Kael gripped the hilt with both hands and drove forward.
His body moved like it wasn't his own.
One strike.
One clear, perfect arc.
BOOM.
The creature didn't fall.
It disintegrated—blasted into vapor and smoke, reduced to nothing but howling shadow. Kael stood at the center of it, panting, the sword still humming in his hands like it had only just begun to awaken.
The ground sizzled beneath him.
The air smelled like scorched sorrow.
Elira approached slowly, her expression unreadable. "…You're getting the hang of it."
Kael didn't answer right away. His shoulders rose and fell with each breath. "What the hell was that?"
She knelt beside the smoldering remains. "A Hollow. One of the lesser ones. The Spire… it's drawing them in. And not all of them will be this easy."
Kael clenched his jaw. "That thing wasn't easy."
Her eyes lifted. "Compared to what's coming? That was a whisper."
Kael turned to the Spire.
It was closer now.
Much closer.
He hadn't realized.
No… he had. He just didn't want to admit it.
"I thought I was ready," he said, voice low. "But this…?"
"You're not." Elira's voice wasn't cruel. Just honest. "You never will be. But that's not the point."
Kael looked at her.
And this time, he saw it.
Not just the calm in her voice. But the same storm in her eyes.
They were both walking into something that might not let them come back.
"…Then let's finish this," he said.
Elira nodded.
They turned together, facing the Spire again.
Every step from now on wasn't just toward a destination—it was toward a reckoning.
The sword.
The pull.
The questions that had no answers.
Kael didn't know if he'd survive what waited inside that tower.
But he knew this much—
The Spire wanted him for a reason.
And he was going to find out why.