The Archive of the Unspoken was built to withstand a siege, but the High Inquisitors weren't using a conventional army. They were using "The Sun-Burst"—a concentrated light-affinity spell designed to vaporize darkness at the molecular level. It was a holy weapon, and in the hands of the Inquisitors, it was a death sentence.
The second explosion didn't just crack the obsidian stone; it turned the wall into a hail of white-hot shrapnel. The shockwave sent a cloud of pulverized rock and ancient dust billowing into the chamber, snuffing out several of the floating memory-crystals.
"Behind the sarcophagus! Now!" Nyx screamed. Her voice was barely audible over the ringing in Reed's ears. She grabbed him by the front of his ragged tunic and shoved him toward the central stone tomb.
Three Inquisitors stepped through the settling dust, their silhouettes framed by the jagged hole in the wall. Their white robes were rimmed with heavy gold embroidery that glowed with a rhythmic, pulsing light. These weren't the low-level guards from the cells; these were "Purifiers." The leader, a man with a jagged, lightning-shaped scar across his chin named Inquisitor Malan, leveled a staff of pure, translucent quartz at them.
"The Shadow Faction has overstepped," Malan's voice boomed, amplified by the magic in his lungs. It didn't just echo; it felt like a physical weight pressing against Reed's chest. "To harbor a Primal Verse user is to invite the collapse of reality itself. By the decree of the Silent Sun and the High Council of Zenith, this sector is now under a total martial purge. No witnesses. No survivors."
"Purge? You're in a library, you zealot!" Nyx shouted back. She didn't wait for him to finish his speech. She flicked her wrists, and four glass daggers hissed through the air, aimed at the gaps in Malan's golden armor.
Malan didn't even flinch. He didn't move his staff. He simply tightened his grip, and a wave of golden light—hotter than a forge—incinerated the daggers mid-flight, turning the glass into harmless, molten droplets that hissed as they hit the floor. "There is no knowledge more valuable than the safety of the world. Die, Shadow."
He slammed his staff down. A beam of white light, thick as an ancient oak, tore through the air toward Nyx.
Reed watched in a terrifying, slow-motion blur. He saw Nyx attempt a "Ghost-Step" to dodge, but the light was too fast, too wide. The beam clipped her shoulder, the sheer heat vaporizing the reinforced fabric of her uniform and searing the flesh beneath. She was sent spinning across the floor, her body slamming into a stack of floating crystals that shattered upon impact.
Something inside Reed snapped.
It wasn't just anger. It was an ancient, primal recognition. The "Evil" in his mind didn't whisper this time. It roared—a sound that vibrated in Reed's marrow. The cold whirlpool in his chest expanded so violently that the remaining thousands of memory-crystals in the room shattered simultaneously. It sounded like the world was breaking.
[WARNING: VOID CORRUPTION RISING: 15%... 18%... 22%]
[HOST EMOTIONAL STATE: UNSTABLE]
[ACTIVATING 'GRASP OF NON-EXISTENCE' (MAX OUTPUT)]
Reed didn't just stand up. He rose, his feet barely touching the ground. The shadows beneath him didn't just stretch; they pooled into a thick, liquid ink that swallowed the floor, turning the polished obsidian into a lake of midnight.
"You want the Void?" Reed's voice was no longer his own. It was a layered, echoing chorus—hundreds of voices speaking as one, the sound of a thousand years of silence finally being broken. "Then have it."
He thrust both hands forward, fingers splayed.
He didn't fire a beam. He didn't throw a bolt of energy. He simply removed the existence of the air between himself and the Inquisitors. A tunnel of absolute nothingness ripped through the chamber.
Malan fired another Sun-Burst, a desperate, blinding strike meant to incinerate Reed where he stood. But the moment the golden light touched Reed's darkness, it wasn't extinguished—it was deleted. The light simply stopped existing. It didn't fade; it vanished, as if the concept of light had been forgotten by the universe in that specific spot.
"What... what is this?" Malan's eyes widened, the religious fervor replaced by a raw, naked terror. His quartz staff began to crack, the white light being sucked out of the stone like blood from a wound. "The Great Banishing was supposed to make this impossible! The seals were absolute!"
"The Void does not forget," Reed said, taking a step toward them. The liquid shadows on the floor surged up around his legs like hungry snakes.
His hand reached out, and the shadow-liquid surged forward in a tidal wave. It slammed into the two lesser Inquisitors standing behind Malan. As the darkness passed over them, they didn't fall. They didn't bleed. They simply vanished. Their robes, their golden armor, and their very screams were erased from the timeline. One moment they were there, and the next, there were only two empty spaces where they had stood.
[CORRUPTION: 25%]
[SYSTEM MESSAGE: THE VOID IS TASTING THE LIGHT. IT WANTS MORE.]
Reed turned his gaze to Malan. The Inquisitor fell to his knees, his hands trembling as his staff turned to grey ash and crumbled through his fingers. Reed's arm moved of its own accord, his fingers clawing the air, ready to wipe Malan out of existence, ready to feed the hunger that was now screaming for more.
Yes... the voice purred, vibrating in the center of Reed's brain. Erase the Sun. Show them the beauty of the Dark. They are nothing. We are everything.
"Reed! Stop!"
The voice was small, pained, and human. Reed froze. He turned his head slowly, his neck creaking like rusted iron, to see Nyx struggling to sit up. Her shoulder was a charred mess of burned fabric and blackened skin, and she was clutching her side, but her eyes were clear and full of a desperate pleading.
"If you kill him like this... you aren't fighting back," she gasped, coughing up a spray of dark blood. "You're just... you're becoming the monster they said you were. Control it, Reed. Subtraction isn't just about killing. It's about balance. Don't let it take you!"
Reed looked back at Malan, who was sobbing, his face pressed against the floor in a prayer to a god that wasn't answering. The "Evil" was screaming for the kill, clawing at Reed's mind, trying to rip the wheel from his hands. Reed's vision was flickering between the grey, dusty Archive and a world of absolute, infinite black.
He looked at the Council Seal—the black coin—lying on the floor where it had fallen. He realized then: the Void wasn't just a weapon he was holding. It was a choice he was making every second.
Reed closed his eyes and pulled. He didn't pull at Malan. He pulled at the energy he had released into the room.
The shadows that had filled the Archive began to rush back into Reed's chest, a cold wind that nearly knocked him over. The liquid ink on the floor vanished as if it had never been there. The darkness in his eyes receded, leaving them a dull, exhausted grey.
Malan, seeing his chance and fueled by pure survival instinct, didn't stay to fight. He scrambled backward through the hole in the wall, his boots slipping on the debris, fleeing into the main corridors of the Institute to warn the others. His pride, his power, and his faith were all shattered.
Reed collapsed to his knees, his breath coming in ragged, wet gasps. Every muscle in his body felt like it had been shredded and sewn back together with ice.
[CORRUPTION STABILIZED: 26%]
[VOID ESSENCE: 85/100 (OVERFLOW)]
[NEW ABILITY UNLOCKED: VOID STEP]
Nyx crawled over to him, her face as pale as the dust on the floor. She looked at the devastation—the missing chunks of the floor, the two men who had been deleted from history. She didn't look at him with fear, but with a grim, heavy understanding.
"You did it," she whispered, her voice shaking. "You held it back."
"They'll be back," Reed said, his voice trembling as he looked at his hands. "They won't stop until I'm gone. They saw what I am."
"Then we leave," Nyx said, glancing at the shifting shadows in the corner of the room. "The Institute is no longer a prison... it's a graveyard. There's a place in the Wastes—a sanctuary for the things the world tried to erase. We go there."
"And the Council?"
Nyx looked at the hole where the Inquisitors had been. "The Council just realized their 'Error' is the end of their world. They won't send students next time, Reed. They won't even send Inquisitors. They'll send the Gods."
Archive of the Unspoken was built to withstand an army, but the High Inquisitors weren't using an army. They were using "The Sun-Burst"—a concentrated light-affinity spell designed to vaporize darkness.
The second explosion didn't just crack the stone; it turned the wall into white-hot shrapnel.
"Behind the sarcophagus! Now!" Nyx screamed, grabbing Reed by his collar and shoving him toward the central stone tomb.
Three Inquisitors stepped through the settling dust. Their white robes were rimmed with gold, and their eyes glowed with a blinding, holy fervor. The leader, a man with a jagged scar across his chin named Inquisitor Malan, leveled a staff of pure quartz at them.
"The Shadow Faction has overstepped," Malan's voice boomed, echoing off the floating memory-crystals. "To harbor a Primal Verse user is to invite the collapse of reality. By the decree of the Silent Sun, this sector is now under martial purge."
"Purge? You're in a library, you zealot!" Nyx shouted back. She flicked her wrists, and four glass daggers hissed through the air.
Malan didn't even flinch. He raised his staff, and a wave of golden light incinerated the daggers mid-flight, turning them into harmless vapor. "There is no knowledge more valuable than the safety of the world. Die, Shadow."
He slammed his staff down. A beam of white light, thick as a tree trunk, tore through the air toward Nyx.
Reed watched as if in slow motion. He saw Nyx dive, but the light was too fast. It clipped her shoulder, sending her spinning across the floor, her silver-and-black uniform smoking.
Something inside Reed snapped.
The "Evil" didn't whisper this time. It roared. The cold whirlpool in his chest expanded so violently that the floating crystals in the room shattered simultaneously, raining shards of glass like diamond snow.
[WARNING: VOID CORRUPTION RISING: 15%... 18%...]
[HOST EMOTIONAL STATE: UNSTABLE]
[ACTIVATING 'GRASP OF NON-EXISTENCE' (MAX OUTPUT)]
Reed didn't stand up. He rose. The shadows beneath him didn't just stretch; they pooled into a liquid ink that swallowed the floor.
"You want the Void?" Reed's voice was no longer his own. It was a layered, echoing chorus of a thousand banished souls. "Then have it."
He thrust both hands forward.
He didn't fire a beam. He didn't throw a bolt. He simply removed the air between himself and the Inquisitors. A tunnel of absolute nothingness ripped through the chamber.
Malan fired another Sun-Burst, but the moment the golden light touched Reed's darkness, it wasn't extinguished—it was deleted. The light simply stopped existing.
"What... what is this?" Malan's eyes widened in genuine terror. His quartz staff began to crack, the white light being drained out of it like blood from a wound. "The Great Banishing was supposed to make this impossible!"
"The Void does not forget," Reed said, taking a step forward.
His hand reached out, and the shadow-liquid on the floor surged up like a tidal wave. It slammed into the two lesser Inquisitors, and as it passed over them, they didn't fall—they vanished. Their robes, their weapons, their very screams were erased from the timeline.
[CORRUPTION: 25%]
[SYSTEM MESSAGE: THE VOID IS TASTING THE LIGHT. IT WANTS MORE.]
Reed turned his gaze to Malan. The Inquisitor fell to his knees, his staff turning to grey ash in his hands. Reed's arm moved of its own accord, his fingers clawing the air, ready to wipe Malan out of existence.
Yes... the voice purred. Erase the Sun. Show them the beauty of the Dark.
"Reed! Stop!"
The voice was small, pained. Reed froze. He turned his head slightly to see Nyx struggling to sit up. Her shoulder was a mess of burned fabric and flesh, but her eyes were clear.
"If you kill him like this... you aren't fighting back," she gasped, coughing up a bit of blood. "You're just... you're becoming the monster they said you were. Control it, Reed. Subtraction isn't just about killing. It's about balance."
Reed looked back at Malan. The "Evil" was screaming for the kill, clawing at Reed's mind, trying to take the wheel. Reed's vision was flickering between the grey Archive and a world of absolute black.
He looked at the Council Seal—the black coin—lying on the floor where it had fallen. He realized then: the Void wasn't just a weapon. It was a choice.
Reed closed his eyes and pulled. He didn't pull at Malan. He pulled at the energy in the room.
The shadows that had filled the Archive began to rush back into Reed's chest. The liquid ink on the floor vanished. The darkness in his eyes receded, leaving them a dull, exhausted grey.
Malan, seeing his chance, didn't fight. He scrambled backward through the hole in the wall, fleeing into the main corridors of the Institute, his pride and his power shattered.
Reed collapsed to his knees, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Every muscle in his body felt like it had been shredded.
[CORRUPTION STABILIZED: 26%]
[VOID ESSENCE: 85/100 (OVERFLOW)]
[NEW ABILITY UNLOCKED: VOID STEP]
Nyx crawled over to him, her face pale. She looked at the devastation—the missing chunks of the floor, the missing Inquisitors. She didn't look at him with fear, but with a grim understanding.
"You did it," she whispered. "You held it back."
"They'll be back," Reed said, his voice trembling. "They won't stop until I'm gone."
"Then we leave," Nyx said, glancing at the shifting shadows in the corner of the room. "The Institute is no longer safe. There's a place in the Wastes—a sanctuary for the things the world tried to erase. We go there."
"And the Council?"
Nyx looked at the hole where the Inquisitors had been. "The Council just realized their 'Error' is the end of their world. They won't send students next time. They'll send the Gods."