The wind howled as Adrian stood on the crumbling balcony of a forgotten fortress. Below him, his ragtag group of fighters moved like shadows in the ruins, their faces grim under the weight of failure. Adrian’s eyes scanned the horizon, where the Veiled Council’s looming threat seemed to poison the very air. The crushing defeat from their last encounter replayed in his mind, a relentless loop of his own hesitation and miscalculations."Still brooding?" Celeste’s voice cut through the cold air like a blade.Adrian turned. She stood there, her armor dented and scratched but her stance defiant. Her fiery gaze bore into him, demanding answers he didn’t have."We don’t have time for this, Adrian," she said sharply. "The Council won’t wait for us to recover. If we don’t act, we’re finished."He didn’t answer right away. The weight of command, of failure, pressed against his chest. Finally, he spoke, his voice steady despite the turmoil within."We’re not ready," Adrian said. "If we move now,

Adrian’s blade clashed with that of his doppelganger, sending shockwaves through the void-like chamber. The replica moved with uncanny precision, mirroring Adrian’s own fighting style. Every strike he made was countered, every feint matched. It was as if he were battling his own reflection—but this reflection seemed stronger, faster, and more unrelenting."You can’t defeat me," the doppelganger taunted, its voice an eerie echo of Adrian’s own. "I am everything you fear. Everything you hate about yourself."Adrian gritted his teeth, forcing himself to focus. He spun, delivering a series of strikes that should have landed—but the doppelganger blocked them effortlessly."You hesitated," it sneered, its voice dripping with contempt. "In the battle, when they needed you most. You were too weak to lead. Too afraid to act."The words hit harder than any blade. Adrian’s grip faltered for a split second, and the doppelganger took advantage, driving him back with a powerful strike that sent him

The chamber shifted again, and Adrian found himself in an unfamiliar city. It was bustling with life—merchants haggled in the streets, children played in the alleys, and the hum of everyday activity filled the air. The scene was vivid, almost painfully real.Adrian stood in the middle of a cobblestone square, his armor gone. He was dressed in simple, worn clothes, blending in with the crowd. For a moment, he felt a strange sense of peace, but then he noticed something unsettling.The faces around him were familiar.The merchant arguing over a price? A soldier he’d lost in battle. The child laughing as he chased a ball? A boy from his village, taken in a raid years ago. Everywhere Adrian looked, he saw ghosts from his past, living ordinary lives as if they had never died."Welcome to the Trial of Purpose," the deep voice echoed, breaking through the clamor.Adrian turned, but there was no one there."Here, you will confront the reason you fight. Without purpose, strength is meaningless

The light from the Forge dissipated as Adrian emerged, his new blade gleaming in the dim evening glow. The air around him seemed charged with an unspoken energy, and the ground beneath his feet felt alive with purpose. Celeste and Lysander rushed to meet him, their faces a mixture of relief and curiosity."You’re back," Celeste breathed, her voice tight with emotion.Lysander clapped him on the shoulder. "And in one piece. What happened in there?"Adrian held the blade aloft, its runes glowing faintly. "The trials are over, but this is only the beginning. The Forge has prepared me for what’s ahead, but the true battle is yet to come."Celeste’s eyes lingered on the sword. "That weapon… it feels different. Almost alive.""It’s more than a weapon," Adrian said, his voice steady. "It’s a part of me now. The shards I collected—the sacrifices, the purpose—everything I’ve endured is forged into this blade. It’s not just a tool. It’s a promise."Lysander nodded, his expression serious. "Then

The moon hung low in the sky as Adrian sat alone on the edge of the camp. The victory earlier that day had been hard-won, but his heart was heavy. Every face he passed among the resistance bore signs of fatigue, fear, or grief.Celeste’s words echoed in his mind: “You proved that we can fight back.”Had he? Or had he just led more people into a war they weren’t ready for?The blade at his side hummed softly, as if sensing his doubts. Its runes glimmered faintly, pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat.“You can feel it too, can’t you?” Adrian muttered to the weapon. “This isn’t over.”A Gathering DarknessBeyond the camp, the forest stirred unnaturally. Shadows moved where they shouldn’t, whispering like the rustle of dead leaves.In the distance, Eira stood motionless, her eyes locked on the map she had stolen. She traced the intricate markings, her fingers lingering over a spot labeled with ancient runes.“It’s here,” she whispered. “The Council’s secret weapon. But is it worth the ris