The first clash of steel against force ripped through the air like a thunderclap.
Kael met the Anchor’s silent advance with everything he had, his blade a blur, his movements sharp, precise—but utterly ineffective.
The Anchor didn’t parry.
It didn’t dodge.
It simply moved forward.
Kael’s sword bit into the empty air where the Anchor had just been, the motion too slow, too human—
Then the Anchor struck.
No wasted motion. No flourish.
A single palm to Kael’s chest.
The impact was soundless.
Kael was launched backward, his body smashing through a stone pillar, debris collapsing in a cloud of dust.
Raine barely had time to react before the Anchor’s gaze snapped back to him.
It had never lost sight of him.
Not even for a moment.
Raine staggered, his breath uneven, his body still sluggish. The backlash from the Abyss clung to him like wet ash, his veins aching from the way he had pulled too deep.
But the Anchor wasn’t waiting.
It lifted a hand—not to strike, but to end.
The space around Raine twisted, his breath ripped away as his vision blurred at the edges.
He was unraveling.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
Not because of the Abyss—but because the Anchor willed it.
Raine clenched his jaw.
No.
Not like this.
Not again.
He reached—but not for Essence.
Not for magic.
For the thing that had answered him in the vision.
The voice that had whispered.
The presence that had acknowledged him.
For the Abyss itself.
Something shifted.
The space around him shattered like glass, the Anchor’s control snapped apart as a wave of void-born force rippled outward.
The weight pressing on Raine vanished.
But something else took its place.
Something deeper.
Something watching.
The Anchor’s head tilted slightly, and for the first time, its motion was not indifferent.
It was curious.
Like it was seeing something new.
Kael didn’t waste the moment.
He moved with the precision of a killer, his blade aimed straight for the Anchor’s throat.
It should have been a clean hit.
But the Anchor was faster.
Too fast.
Kael’s strike missed, his balance shifting just slightly—
And that was all it took.
The Anchor countered with a single movement.
Kael’s sword was ripped from his grasp, the force sending him sprawling across the stone floor.
His breath hitched.
He had never been outmatched like this.
Not this utterly.
Not this helplessly.
Raine gritted his teeth, still fighting the pull of the Abyss that threatened to consume him again.
He had to move.
He had to do something.
Then—
Another presence.
Another pulse of raw force.
The temperature dropped.
The air hummed with a different kind of power.
Ezren.
He stepped into the ruined chamber, his expression unreadable, but his eyes sharp.
"That’s enough," he said.
The Anchor turned to him, unhurried. Unbothered.
Ezren raised a hand.
The force that followed was not Abyssal.
It was disruption, the kind of magic that tore through even the most unshakable foundations—and the Anchor felt it.
It didn’t recoil.
It didn’t react.
But it paused.
And that was all Ezren needed.
He snapped his fingers.
A spell detonated at the Anchor’s feet—not to harm, but to blind.
A fracture in the air, a pulse of force, a moment’s cover.
"Kael, take him and run," Ezren ordered, already moving forward, his focus entirely on the Anchor.
Kael hesitated for only a second—then grabbed Raine’s wrist and hauled him toward the exit.
Raine struggled against his grip, his mind still half-tangled in the Abyss, still feeling the pull that hadn’t faded.
He wasn’t sure who he had reached for.
Or what had reached back.
But the Anchor knew.
Even as the battle turned behind them—it watched him go.
It wasn’t finished.
Not by a long shot.
And Raine could feel it in his bones.
This wasn’t the end.
It was only the beginning.