
by MadusaTheEater
The fissure erupts in a violent shockwave, unleashing a blast of light that tears through the grove and overwhelms the four companions. As they struggle to withstand the force, the fissure begins projecting memories — not theirs, but fragments belonging to an ancient, colossal being whose body once shaped the world itself. They witness visions of a god‑organism made of bone, starlight, and living realms: a heart that beat like a mountain, a spine that formed continents, a skull that birthed the night sky. The visions shift into its destruction — a conceptual blade, a cosmic scream, a body breaking apart and spilling realms like blood. The fissure forces these memories into them, demanding they hold the weight of its past. Amid the chaos, Valdis sees four silhouettes reflected in the fissure’s light — echoes of themselves, as if they’ve stood here before or will again. The fissure’s whisper changes. No longer ancient, it becomes immediate and directed at them: “Choose.” The light dims, the grove falls silent, and the chapter ends with the realization that the fissure isn’t just showing them something — it’s asking for something.
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