The blackness stretched on, infinite and unyielding. No light, no shapes—just an endless void, cold and silent. Tel-Nu drifted through the emptiness, his form barely visible against the dark expanse. There was no sound, no movement, only the steady rhythm of his presence as he moved through the nothingness, like a shadow lost in the folds of the universe.
He glided through the void with purpose, his mind far from the quiet solitude that surrounded him. There was something soothing about this place, this realm of absolute stillness. It was here, in the absence of all things, that Tel-Nu could reflect. His thoughts were unfettered, free to stretch across time and space as he contemplated the events to come.
After a while, Tel-Nu stopped.
The stillness deepened, the void pressing in closer, but Tel-Nu remained unaffected. He raised his hand, a slow and deliberate motion, and with a wave of his pale fingers, the darkness before him began to shift.
Seven circles appeared.
They glowed faintly in the dark, like windows cut into the fabric of the void. Within each circle was a figure—one of the Core Seven, their faces set with grim determination as they trained for the coming war.
Tel-Nu stood silently, his gaze flicking from one circle to the next, observing the efforts of his enemies with an emotion that might have been satisfaction—or perhaps something far darker. The Core Seven moved within their respective districts, training their bodies and honing their powers, their focus unwavering as they fought to become stronger.
They were desperate, that much was clear.
In the first circle, Junna, her once-pristine white armor gleaming as she moved with precision, sparring with her aides, testing her strength. She pushed herself harder with each passing day, her dedication to purity and strength unwavering, but even she could not hide the uncertainty in her eyes. The fear of failure gnawed at the edges of her mind, a subtle shadow creeping in despite her best efforts to remain steadfast.
In the second circle, Cusi was deep in meditation, his brow furrowed as he strained to push his mind and body to new limits. He sought power through patience and stillness, but even in his calm, there was an undercurrent of doubt. Could he, could any of them, truly be ready to face the force that was Tel-Nu?
Tel-Nu's gaze passed over each of the circles in turn, watching as the Core Seven pushed themselves to their breaking points, all in the hope of finding the strength to defeat him.
In the third circle, Kira trained her rangers relentlessly, her voice sharp and commanding as she drilled them for battle. Yet, beneath the surface, there was tension. Kira knew that no amount of preparation would guarantee victory, and the fear of what awaited them weighed heavily on her.
In the fourth circle, Cormac oversaw the fortification of his district, his voice steady as he gave orders to his aides, but his hands shook ever so slightly. He masked it well, but Tel-Nu could see it—the fear, the uncertainty. Cormac feared what was coming, feared that all his preparations would be in vain.
The fifth circle showed Dmitri, his body rippling with power as he trained relentlessly, every move calculated, every strike precise. He was stronger than ever, but his eyes betrayed him. The doubt was there, hiding just beneath the surface. Dmitri knew he was no match for Tel-Nu, not yet. Perhaps not ever.
In the sixth circle, Eshe floated above her district, her power pulsing around her in waves of aethereal energy. She had evolved, grown stronger than any of the others, but even she could not escape the gnawing doubt that tugged at her thoughts. Was it enough? Was she enough?
And in the final circle, Delson Snow Sr. stood at the center of his district, his eyes fixed on the horizon. His face was a mask of determination, but Tel-Nu could see the cracks beneath. Delson Sr. was afraid, afraid that his plans would fail, afraid that his son would be lost to him forever. The weight of leadership was heavy on his shoulders, and Tel-Nu relished in that burden.
Tel-Nu stood silently, watching them struggle. They were building up their defenses, fortifying their city, preparing for the inevitable confrontation with him. They trained day and night, pushing themselves to the brink of exhaustion in the hopes that they could become strong enough to face him.
But it wouldn't be enough. Not against him.
He watched as they clung to their fleeting hope, believing that somehow they could stop the fate that awaited them. Corintopia, their mighty fortress, their beacon of civilization in the new world, was nothing more than a hollow shell. The city would fall. The tides of fate had decreed it.
Tel-Nu took pleasure in their fear. He could see it in their eyes, in their movements—the fear of failure, the fear that they wouldn't be strong enough to stop him. It gnawed at them, an insidious presence that grew stronger with each passing day. And Tel-Nu reveled in it.
Soon, they would fight.
Soon, they would come face to face with the truth they had been running from. They could train, they could build, they could prepare—but none of it would matter in the end. The battle was inevitable. The fall of Corintopia was inevitable. And when the time came, they would understand.
They would understand their sins.
The corners of Tel-Nu's lips twitched, the faintest hint of a smile appearing beneath the shadows that concealed his face. The fear, the uncertainty, the desperation—they were all so deliciously human. And soon, he would tear it all away from them.
The void trembled slightly, as if responding to Tel-Nu's thoughts, and the seven circles flickered briefly before disappearing into the darkness once more. The vision was gone, but the knowledge remained.
The end was coming.
With one final glance into the void, Tel-Nu turned and drifted deeper into the blackness, his presence vanishing into the endless expanse. Soon, they would face him. Soon, they would understand.
And Corintopia would fall, just as the tides of fate had decreed.