Deep Inside the Station (Group Two)
Kaelen led Iselyra and Aerin deeper into the broken depths of the ancient station —
toward the source of the fractures.
The walls bled light and shadow in equal measure.
Reality flickered between what was, what is, and what might have been.
Shattered statues of forgotten heroes twisted into monstrous shapes.
Hallways stretched impossibly long — then snapped back to normal length.
Voices — not echoes, but possibilities — whispered from every direction.
Aerin clutched her staff tightly, chanting quiet prayers.
Iselyra moved like a phantom — blade drawn, heart steeled.
Kaelen, however… felt it first.
A pull.
A voice.
A chain.
The Trap Awakens
In a wide, ruined atrium, the fractures converged.
At the center:
a shattered mirror — once a gateway — now a wound.
And as Kaelen stepped closer,
the wound pulsed — and a figure stepped out.
No body.
No real flesh.
Only a memory woven from malice and shadow.
Kain.
Or at least… a fragment of him.
His old master's voice rolled across the air like poisoned honey:
"My beautiful reaver…"
"Still struggling. Still denying what you are."
"Come home."
Kaelen froze — his heart hammering once, then locking into ice.
Iselyra moved instantly, stepping in front of him.
Aerin raised her staff, glowing faintly.
But the shadow of Kain only smiled.
"You think you can escape fate?"
"You were forged for war, Kaelen."
"You were reborn in death — and you belong to me."
The Rift pulsed —
memories crashing over Kaelen:
His betrayal.
His murder.
His resurrection.
His binding to Death herself.
He staggered, shadow tendrils lashing involuntarily from his back.
The Psychic Assault
Kain's fragment struck —
not with blades —
but with doubt.
Visions of Kaelen standing over the Dawnbreakers' broken bodies.
Himself wearing the Cult's insignia, leading legions across burning worlds.
The Cipher torn from Jaxen's corpse, delivered to Kain's waiting hand.
Kaelen fell to one knee, gasping.
Iselyra gritted her teeth, grabbing his shoulder.
"Fight it," she growled. "You are not his."
Aerin knelt beside him, hands on his arm, pouring raw, wild life magic into his soul.
"You are Kaelen of the Dawnbreakers," she whispered fiercely. "You chose your path."
The shadow of Kain laughed.
"You chose nothing."
"You are a weapon without a master."
Kaelen's fists clenched against the cold stone.
His memories tore at him.
His fear clawed at him.
But then…
he thought of them.
Zaraya's wild grin.
Plo's endless curiosity.
Drex's slobbery loyalty.
Jaxen's stubborn resilience.
Iselyra's sharp, cold loyalty.
Aerin's unwavering hope.
Family.
Kaelen stood.
His shadow burned brighter — not darker.
Not chains —
but wings.
Not Kain's creation —
but his own will.
He unleashed a surge of soul energy,
tearing Kain's fragment apart with a roar that cracked the Rift walls.
"I. CHOOSE. MY FAMILY."
The shadow screamed —
and dissolved into ash and broken echoes.
Aftermath
Kaelen stood, breathing heavily, shadows still writhing around him —
but now entirely under his control.
Iselyra watched him silently —
respect in her ice-blue gaze.
Aerin smiled, eyes warm.
"You are not lost," she said simply.
Kaelen nodded once, silently vowing:
"Never again."
Far above, in places unseen,
the true Kain felt the disturbance.
He smiled.
"So…
you grow stronger, my little reaver."
"Good."
"The game will be sweeter when the pieces finally fall."
Deep Inside the Station (Group Two)
Kaelen led Iselyra and Aerin deeper into the broken depths of the ancient station —
toward the source of the fractures.
The walls bled light and shadow in equal measure.
Reality flickered between what was, what is, and what might have been.
Shattered statues of forgotten heroes twisted into monstrous shapes.
Hallways stretched impossibly long — then snapped back to normal length.
Voices — not echoes, but possibilities — whispered from every direction.
Aerin clutched her staff tightly, chanting quiet prayers.
Iselyra moved like a phantom — blade drawn, heart steeled.
Kaelen, however… felt it first.
A pull.
A voice.
A chain.
The Trap Awakens
In a wide, ruined atrium, the fractures converged.
At the center:
a shattered mirror — once a gateway — now a wound.
And as Kaelen stepped closer,
the wound pulsed — and a figure stepped out.
No body.
No real flesh.
Only a memory woven from malice and shadow.
Kain.
Or at least… a fragment of him.
His old master's voice rolled across the air like poisoned honey:
"My beautiful reaver…"
"Still struggling. Still denying what you are."
"Come home."
Kaelen froze — his heart hammering once, then locking into ice.
Iselyra moved instantly, stepping in front of him.
Aerin raised her staff, glowing faintly.
But the shadow of Kain only smiled.
"You think you can escape fate?"
"You were forged for war, Kaelen."
"You were reborn in death — and you belong to me."
The Rift pulsed —
memories crashing over Kaelen:
His betrayal.
His murder.
His resurrection.
His binding to Death herself.
He staggered, shadow tendrils lashing involuntarily from his back.
The Psychic Assault
Kain's fragment struck —
not with blades —
but with doubt.
Visions of Kaelen standing over the Dawnbreakers' broken bodies.
Himself wearing the Cult's insignia, leading legions across burning worlds.
The Cipher torn from Jaxen's corpse, delivered to Kain's waiting hand.
Kaelen fell to one knee, gasping.
Iselyra gritted her teeth, grabbing his shoulder.
"Fight it," she growled. "You are not his."
Aerin knelt beside him, hands on his arm, pouring raw, wild life magic into his soul.
"You are Kaelen of the Dawnbreakers," she whispered fiercely. "You chose your path."
The shadow of Kain laughed.
"You chose nothing."
"You are a weapon without a master."
Kaelen's fists clenched against the cold stone.
His memories tore at him.
His fear clawed at him.
But then…
he thought of them.
Zaraya's wild grin.
Plo's endless curiosity.
Drex's slobbery loyalty.
Jaxen's stubborn resilience.
Iselyra's sharp, cold loyalty.
Aerin's unwavering hope.
Family.
Kaelen stood.
His shadow burned brighter — not darker.
Not chains —
but wings.
Not Kain's creation —
but his own will.
He unleashed a surge of soul energy,
tearing Kain's fragment apart with a roar that cracked the Rift walls.
"I. CHOOSE. MY FAMILY."
The shadow screamed —
and dissolved into ash and broken echoes.
Aftermath
Kaelen stood, breathing heavily, shadows still writhing around him —
but now entirely under his control.
Iselyra watched him silently —
respect in her ice-blue gaze.
Aerin smiled, eyes warm.
"You are not lost," she said simply.
Kaelen nodded once, silently vowing:
"Never again."
Far above, in places unseen,
the true Kain felt the disturbance.
He smiled.
"So…
you grow stronger, my little reaver."
"Good."
"The game will be sweeter when the pieces finally fall."