"All that builds up this universe is constantly a conflict of the other - whether it be the light and the dark or the chaos and the prime - but it is that balance that completes reality. Equilibrium is the true nature of the Nex."
Night on Eldrath Prime was velvet-black, pierced by a million distant suns. In the forest that clung like emerald lace to the planet's emerald ridges, Kallus Eldrath guided the Voidwalker along a narrow path. Every footfall stirred the sweet scent of moss and the soft susurration of unseen creatures. Above, Eldrath's moons shone together—a rare trinity that cast the world in silvery blue gloom.
"Keep your focus," Kallus intoned, his voice as steady as a mountain stream. the edges of his robes that glimmered in shifting moonlight. "Tonight, you will enter the heart of our world. This cave will show you how the Nex binds us all, from the smallest leaf to the farthest star."
They paused before a crystalline cliff face, its walls alive with veins of luminous sapphire, rose quartz, and violet amethyst. Thin rivulets of water trickled down, forming a carpet of gentle ripples that danced in the moonlight. Kallus pressed a palm against the rock; it yielded like warm wax. With a breath, he touched a hidden rune—and the cliff shimmered, sliding aside to reveal a narrow tunnel.
From the moment they crossed the threshold, the air changed. It hummed with a subtle vibration that resonated in the Voidwalker's chest. The passage was lit by the minerals embedded in the walls, whose glow pulsed to the cadence of some silent heartbeat. Every step echoed as if the cavern were alive, listening.
At the end of the tunnel, a low arch opened onto a vast chamber: the Heart Chamber. Above, the ceiling arched like the curve of a sleeping dragon's belly, its surface flecked with living luminescence. The floor was polished stone, so smooth it reflected the shifting lights overhead like liquid starlight.
"Sit," Kallus said, pointing to a circle of stone cushions surrounding a shallow pool fed by a gentle spring. "This is the Meditation Chamber. Legends say this cave was born of Eldrath Prime's own grief during the Celestial Convergence—when our three moons wept upon the world and the veil between dimensions thinned. Since then, every soul who meditates here emerges changed."
The Voidwalker sank onto a cushion. The stone was cool, but not unkind, similar to the one in the Sanctuary. Kallus seated himself opposite, closing his eyes. A soft wash of blue-purple light enveloped them both. The cave responded to Kallus's presence, the hues shifting in sympathy with his breathing.
"First," Kallus whispered, "we must center the self. Feel your own Nexirial current—isolate it from the flux of external energies. Breathe in through your mind. Breathe out through your heart."
The Voidwalker inhaled, struggling to still the thunder of thoughts: the memory of the God Emperor's charge, the weight of destiny as the chosen one, the countless eyes of the Imperium upon him. The hum grew insistent, as if the cave demanded silence.
In that silence, the walls brightened to sapphire. The shallow pool glowed from below, illuminating veins of crystal in the stone. Kallus opened his eyes. From the wrinkles of concentration, pale sparks drifted up from his fingertips—Prime Nexomancy made visible. Tiny arcs of whimsical, blue-hued energy traced geometric patterns in the air, spirals and sigils from the Eldrath tradition.
"Now, attune yourself," Kallus said. He stretched a hand over the water. The pool's surface stilled, then rippled outward in concentric circles of light. "Sense the Nexium here: the living pulse of the planet. Let it braid with your own current."
The Voidwalker hesitated. All his training so far had been theoretical—scripts, incantations, desperate practice. He closed his eyes and bowed his head. He opened himself, finger-tip first, to the flow at his core. He felt it—cold, bright energy, a silver thread weaving through his spine. He extended that thread into the cave. For a moment, it trembled, then anchored itself in the spring's wellspring.
He opened his eyes. The chamber light deepened, as if stirred by the warmth of his union with the cave. Shapes blossomed in his vision: swirling nebulae, whirling galaxies, the living latticework of the Universe. He saw worlds born in cataclysm, suns burning with the laughter of creation, the silent geometry of cosmic balance.
Kallus's voice, measured and calm, guided him: "Observe. Do not judge. The universe exists in equilibrium—every star, every mote of dust, every living thing bound by the Nex. You are part of that balance."
Time stretched. The Voidwalker's soul seemed to float free of his body, drifting along filaments of light that connected planet to planet, life to life. For a fleeting instant, he sensed every breath of every living creature in the Imperium. He felt the pulse of coral reefs on distant waterworlds, the slow rumble of forests on worlds he had never seen.
And then, in his periphery, he saw a dark shape—a silent hole in the tapestry. It had no color, no form, only an absence. It pulsed, almost lazily, as if hungry. A whisper—too quiet to distinguish words—brushed the edge of his mind. Fear rose like ash in his throat.
He tried to turn away, to refocus on the multicolored web of life. But the void pulsed again, a pinprick at the edge of his perception. A command, primal and ancient, tore at him: "Look."
The Voidwalker's heart thundered. He could have shouted for Kallus's help. He could have admitted the darkness. But something—pride or shame—stilled his tongue. He clamped the void out of his mind, diverting his awareness to the diamond-bright nexus of galaxies before him. He chased the memory of cold darkness away with images of newborn stars, of blazing supernovae, of worlds bathed in golden light.
All at once, the astonishing vision dissolved. The cavern lights faded back to their ordinary sapphire glow. The pool's surface stilled. The soft hum of the cave returned to normal volume, and Kallus nodded slightly, as though waiting.
"You have done well," Kallus whispered. "You touched the living universe. Now, ground yourself." He held out his hand. "The water."
The Voidwalker reached for the pool. The moment his palm broke the surface, a current of crystalline cold raced up his arm, centering him in the cave once more. He sat in silence, chest heaving, eyes fixed on the ripples he'd created.
"There is much to learn," Kallus said softly. "The Nexomantic arts draw from three sources: your personal energy, the universal, and the dimensional. Here, you tasted universal Nexium. You felt the great web, you felt creation's breath—but you also glimpsed omission: a dark thread in the pattern. That is neither good nor evil, but something beyond. Remember it. One day, you may need to confront it."
The Voidwalker met Kallus's steady gaze. His throat tightened, but he nodded. Did he see what he saw? Unsure, he remained silent about the void.
They rose and left the Heart Chamber. The passage back felt warmer—almost welcoming. As they emerged into the night, the moons still shone in perfect alignment, bathing the forest canopy in their triple glow.
Kallus paused, closing his eyes and lifting a gloved hand toward the sky. He whispered an incantation in the ancient dialect of the Nexomancer's Guild. His robes shimmered brighter, then fell silent, as though drip-fed by a reservoir of light.
"Tonight, you walk as both student and sentinel," he said. "The balance of the Imperium needs more than power. It needs wisdom, compassion, and the courage to face the unknown—even the parts of ourselves we would rather hide."
The Voidwalker swallowed. His mind dared to wander back to the chamber's edge: the spineless, colorless gloom, the low murmur that had tugged at him. In the darkness of the cave, he had felt something alive, though barren. He forced himself to focus on the present: the gentle night breeze, the rustle of leaves, the echo of Kallus's voice.
As they made their way back through the glowing tunnels, the Voidwalker carried the memory of that hidden void in his heart. Perhaps one day he would share it. Perhaps not. But the balance he sought to preserve would demand more than triumphant light—it would demand a reckoning with shadow.
And so, guided by the Keeper of the Nex, he stepped deeper into his destiny. The living universe unfurled before him, radiant and infinite—calling him to balance, to courage, and to the luminous mystery of the Nex.