The Silent Court had been left behind, its judgment passed, but the weight of knowledge lingered. As Mary, Lela, and Loosie emerged from the ruins, the eerie silence of the throne chamber still echoed in their minds. The vast expanse of the Abyssal Wastes stretched before them—an endless desert of blackened sand and shattered stone. The air was thick with the whispers of the forgotten, remnants of souls lost to time.
Mary's steps were steady, her grip on Saber of Mist firm. She had learned the truth—the nature of immortality was not simply a curse, but a trial. Yet the answers only led to more questions.
Lela adjusted Gáe Bolg on her back, her crimson-outlined leather armor catching the dim light of the abyss. "So, what now? We know why we exist like this, but that doesn't tell us how to move forward."
Loosie crossed her arms, her expression unreadable. "If the Silent Court was meant to judge those who defied fate, then what happens to the ones who pass their trial?"
Mary glanced toward the horizon. "We find out."
Before them, the wasteland stretched toward a single landmark—the Spire of Eternity. A lone monolith that pierced the sky like a broken blade, its surface shifting between existence and nonexistence. It was said to be the final boundary between the living and the immortal, the last gate before those who defied fate were erased completely.
A storm was gathering around it, swirling clouds of silver mist and crackling arcs of energy. The very air distorted as though reality was unraveling.
Lela let out a slow breath. "Something tells me we're not going to just walk up and knock."
Mary's grip tightened. "No. But we're not turning back."
They moved swiftly across the wasteland, shadows shifting around them. The further they traveled, the more they felt an unseen force watching, waiting. The ground cracked beneath their feet, and whispers brushed against their ears—fragments of voices lost to time.
"You do not belong…"
"The cycle must not be broken…"
"You cannot defy eternity…"
Mary ignored them. They were remnants of those who had come before—failed warriors, lost souls who had fallen at the final threshold. She would not become one of them.
As they neared the Spire, the mist thickened, becoming almost tangible. It wrapped around their limbs, slowing their steps, testing their resolve. And then, from the mist, figures began to take shape.
Spectral knights.
Clad in armor that shimmered with the light of a dying sun, their bodies flickered between existence and memory. Each one bore weapons of legend, blades and spears that had once shaped history. Their hollow eyes locked onto the trio, and in silent unison, they raised their weapons.
Lela exhaled sharply. "I was right. They're not letting us walk in."
Loosie smirked. "Then we cut our way through."
Mary stepped forward, her voice unwavering. "We fight."
The battle was unlike any before.
The spectral knights moved as though untethered by time itself, their strikes shifting between moments, making them nearly impossible to predict. Mary parried a blade that should have struck her from behind, only for it to appear in front of her a split second later.
Lela spun Gáe Bolg, her spear crackling with divine lightning. "They're phasing through time! We can't just block—we have to disrupt their rhythm."
Loosie blurred into motion, her daggers flashing as she weaved between the knights. "Easier said than done!"
Mary's eyes narrowed. The throne had granted her knowledge—now was the time to use it. She adjusted her stance, focusing on the flickering movements of the knights. Not where they are, but where they will be.
A knight lunged, its blade phasing mid-strike. Mary stepped forward instead of back, bringing Saber of Mist in a precise arc. The moment the spectral steel solidified, her blade met it, shattering the phantom weapon in a burst of mist and light.
"They're bound by the echoes of their past," she realized. "We need to sever their ties!"
Lela smirked. "Then let's cut them loose."
With renewed focus, they pressed forward. Gáe Bolg struck like a divine spear of judgment, disrupting the flickering specters. Loosie's daggers severed their spectral bindings, while Mary carved through their lingering remnants, forcing them back into the void.
One by one, the knights fell. And as the last of them faded into mist, the Spire's gates loomed before them.
The entrance to the Spire was not a door, but a veil of shifting reality. The moment they stepped through, the world around them dissolved, and they found themselves in an endless corridor of light and darkness.
Mary's breath caught. This was it—the boundary between existence and eternity.
A voice, neither hostile nor welcoming, echoed through the space.
"You have come seeking the truth."
From the end of the corridor, a figure emerged—a lone guardian, clad in pristine silver armor, its presence overwhelming. Unlike the spectral knights, it was fully formed, solid, powerful.
The guardian raised its weapon, a massive halberd that shimmered with golden energy.
"Then prove that you are worthy of defying fate."
The final trial had begun.