Veilstrum

The world around Arkan twisted in ways that defied logic. The Nexus groaned as if it were alive, its fractured threads snapping and reforming chaotically. Every step forward felt like wading through the fabric of a dream turned nightmare.

Arkan clutched his side, still aching from the Arbiter's trial. The shard pulsed faintly in his hand, its energy muted but persistent, like a whisper in the back of his mind. He glanced at Kaelith, who walked a few steps ahead, her silver hair shimmering faintly in the dim light of the Nexus. Despite her steady posture, Arkan could see the tension in her shoulders.

"Does it feel... worse to you?" he asked, breaking the heavy silence.

Kaelith slowed but didn't turn to face him. "Worse is an understatement," she said. Her voice was calm, but there was a sharpness to it that betrayed her unease. "The Nexus is collapsing, Arkan. It's rejecting us."

Arkan's gaze darted to the swirling threads around them, some glowing faintly while others were dark and frayed. He could feel the air itself pressing against his chest, thick and suffocating. "Rejecting us? Why?"

Kaelith finally turned, her emerald eyes narrowing. "Because we don't belong here. The longer we stay, the more unstable it becomes. If we don't find a way out soon…" She trailed off, her expression grim.

Arkan swallowed hard. The shard in his hand grew warmer, almost as if responding to her words.

As they pressed on, the ground beneath them shifted, morphing into jagged, crystalline shapes that crunched underfoot. The silence was broken by a guttural, inhuman growl. Arkan froze, his heart racing as he scanned the area.

From the shadows, a figure emerged, its form grotesquely distorted. Arkan's first instinct was to reach for his weapon, but then he realized—this was no ordinary creature.

A Weaver.

Or at least, what had once been a Weaver.

The figure's body was emaciated, its skin translucent and stretched taut over brittle bones. Its once-pristine robes were now tattered and torn, stained with a dark, pulsing corruption. The Weaver's face was barely recognizable, twisted into a grotesque mockery of what it had once been, its hollow eyes glowing with an eerie, sickly light.

"Do you know what you've done?" The Weaver rasped, its voice low and hoarse.

Arkan's hand tightened around the shard, his pulse quickening. "I'm trying to stop the Fracturing," he said, though the words felt hollow in his mouth.

The creature let out a dry, raspy laugh, its body convulsing. "The shard doesn't care for your intentions," it hissed, its voice dripping with malice. "It will consume you, as it did me."

Before Arkan could respond, the corrupted Weaver lunged forward with an unnatural speed, its arms elongated and ending in jagged, claw-like fingers. It swiped at Arkan with inhuman precision, forcing him to dive to the side just in time. The air where the claws passed burned with dark energy, and the ground beneath them cracked and splintered as if the very fabric of reality was warping under the creature's touch.

Kaelith was already in motion, her blade flashing through the air in a series of rapid, precise strikes. She moved like a dancer, her weapon cutting through the air with deadly grace. But the corrupted Weaver seemed to anticipate her every move, its body twisting unnaturally to avoid her strikes.

Arkan struggled to find his footing, his body aching from the earlier battle. His fingers brushed the shard again, its warmth spreading up his arm as it pulsed in response to the danger. The voice in his mind—faint and almost lost in the chaos—whispered an instruction.

Weave it. You know how. Let the light guide your hand.

Arkan's chest tightened as he focused on the threads of light that flickered in his mind, the same ones that had guided him before. He extended his hand, and the threads appeared, coiling around his fingers like a delicate, glowing web. The light danced along his arm, weaving into a thin strand of energy that extended outward, lashing out toward the corrupted Weaver.

The threads of light collided with the creature, but it was like trying to bind a shadow. The corrupted Weaver writhed, its body flickering and distorting as the light tried to cling to it, only to be repelled by the dark energy that radiated from its form.

Kaelith's weapon struck again, this time finding purchase in the creature's side. It let out a horrible, screeching wail, but it didn't fall. Instead, the wound began to heal almost instantly, the corruption pulsing and knitting the creature back together.

Arkan gritted his teeth, his frustration mounting. This isn't enough.

The shard pulsed violently in his hand, as if it were urging him to push further. The threads in his mind grew more vivid, more intense, and he realized with a sudden clarity what he had to do.

Focus.

He snapped his hand forward, the threads of light flaring in a cascade of energy. This time, instead of just striking, Arkan wove them into a net, binding the Weaver's limbs with strands of concentrated light. The creature screamed, thrashing violently, but the threads held fast, constricting around its body, locking it in place.

Kaelith didn't hesitate. She lunged forward, her blade shimmering as she pierced the corrupted Weaver's heart. The creature let out one final, ear-piercing cry before it crumbled into nothingness, its body disintegrating into a cloud of dark mist that dissolved into the Nexus.

Arkan stood panting, his muscles aching from the effort. The shard in his hand was warm, almost hot to the touch, and the threads of light slowly faded back into the ether.

Kaelith wiped the sweat from her brow, glancing at him with a nod of approval. "You're learning," she said, though her tone was more somber than before. "But that was only the beginning."

Arkan nodded, though his mind was still reeling from the battle. He had seen the corruption in the Weaver's eyes. He had felt the dark presence that lingered even after it was gone. This wasn't just a fight against mindless monsters. Something much worse was at play here.

The shard pulsed again, its glow faint but steady. Arkan's gaze shifted to Kaelith, and for a moment, the weight of what they were facing seemed to press down on both of them.

"We're running out of time," Kaelith said, her voice tight with urgency.

Arkan took a deep breath, clenching his fist around the shard. "We have to keep moving."

The vision of the forest flared in his mind once more, clearer now—an image of a peaceful, tranquil realm nestled within towering, ancient trees, a place that felt distant and almost unreachable. But the vision also showed something else: a dark, oppressive force on the horizon, its armies marching ever closer, casting a shadow over the serene landscape.

"This is where we're going," Arkan said, his voice steady despite the turmoil in his chest.

Kaelith's eyes narrowed as she processed the information. "Then let's make it out of here alive."

As they pressed forward, the world around them continued to unravel. The Nexus was collapsing, and they had no choice but to push through, guided only by the shard's faint light.

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