The Herald of the Myth didn't just stand in the sky; he owned it.
Up close, the winged giant was terrifying. His "skin" looked like polished white porcelain, and his armor was carved from solid gold that caught the starlight, reflecting it back with a blinding intensity. He had no face—only a smooth, golden visor where eyes should be. In his right hand, he gripped a spear made of pure, crackling lightning.
"Stay behind me!" Kairyn shouted, shoving Sharla toward the back of the cliff. "Joshua, that thing is a literal demigod. We can't take him out here in the open!"
"We don't have a choice," Joshua said, his voice dropping an octave. He could feel the heat radiating from the Herald. It wasn't the warm, cozy heat of a summer sun; it was the searing, angry heat of a furnace. "Roselia, get the Anchor ready. If he lets that spear go, we're cooked."
"I'm on it! But the Anchor isn't stabilized yet!" Sharla screamed over the rising wind. She was frantically pouring the blue fluid from the Soporific Prime into the device's intake port. "I need like, two minutes! Just give me two minutes without dying!"
The Herald raised his spear. The sky around him began to swirl, the pink clouds turning into a dark, violent purple.
"THE DREAM IS SACRED," the Herald's voice boomed, vibrating in Joshua's very bones. "THOSE WHO WAKE MUST BE ERASED."
"Erased? My guy, we're just trying to get some answers!" Roselia yelled back, her hands glowing with dark energy. "You ever heard of a 'vibe check'? Because yours is straight-up trash!"
The Herald didn't respond to the banter. He thrust the spear downward.
A bolt of golden lightning shot toward them, tearing through the air with a sound like a thousand sheets of metal being ripped apart. Joshua reacted instantly. He didn't pull his sword—he used the sheath. He swung the heavy, black scabbard in a wide arc, catching the bolt of lightning and deflecting it into the grass.
The ground where the lightning hit didn't just burn; it evaporated. A massive chunk of the cliffside simply ceased to exist, turning into sparkling dust.
"Whoa, okay, he's not playing!" Sharla cried, clutching the Anchor to her chest. "One more of those and we're literal stardust!"
"Joshua, the ground!" Kage shrieked from above, his raven voice filled with panic.
Joshua felt it a second before it happened. The entire cliffside—the beautiful, emerald-green grass, the silver trees, the solid rock—began to groan. The Herald's attack hadn't just targeted them; it had targeted the foundation of the island itself.
CRACK.
It was the loudest sound Joshua had ever heard. The edge of the island, a piece of land the size of a city block, snapped off like a dry biscuit.
"Hold on to something!" Kairyn yelled, lunging for Sharla.
But there was nothing to hold on to.
Gravity, which had always been so polite in Narakka, suddenly decided to quit its job. Joshua felt his stomach lurch into his throat as the world tilted. Then, with a sickening jolt, the ground disappeared.
They were falling.
"ROSELIA!" Joshua roared, reaching out blindly through the chaos of wind and debris.
"I'M HERE!" her voice came from somewhere to his left, whipped away by the screaming wind.
Everything became a blur. The "paradise" of Narakka—the pink clouds, the golden sun, the beautiful palaces—shrank rapidly above them, becoming nothing more than a small, glowing flower in the vast, purple sky. Around them, giant chunks of rock and shattered trees tumbled through the air.
"Kairyn! Sharla!" Joshua called out.
"We're okay! I got her!" Kairyn's voice was faint, but he sounded determined.
The fall felt like it lasted for hours, though it was likely only minutes. They passed through a thick layer of grey, freezing clouds that smelled of wet metal and old memories. This was the "Void"—the space between the floating world and whatever lay beneath.
"Joshua! Look down!" Kage screamed, his wings tucked tight as he dived alongside them. "Through my eyes! Use me!"
Joshua focused. He tapped into Kage's vision, and for a split second, the world turned into a sharp, violet-tinted landscape. Below them, the endless purple nebula was gone. In its place was something dark, solid, and ancient.
"Brace for impact!" Joshua yelled. "Roselia, use the shadows! Break our fall!"
"Trying! It's hard to aim when I'm traveling at Mach 5!" Roselia shouted back. She swung her arms, casting out long, ribbon-like shadows. They weren't meant to anchor them—they were meant to act as parachutes.
The shadows caught the air, snapping tight and slowing their descent just enough to keep their bones from turning into powder.
They hit the ground hard.
Joshua slammed into something that felt like cold, mossy stone. He rolled, his black sword clattering beside him, until he finally came to a stop against a wall of rusted iron. His lungs burned, and his head was spinning like a top.
"Is... is everyone still in one piece?" a voice asked. It was Sharla. She sounded like she was about to cry, but she was still clutching the Anchor.
"I'm... I'm good," Roselia groaned. She sat up, rubbing her shoulder. "But my hair is definitely ruined. 0/10 experience, would not recommend."
"Kairyn?" Joshua called out, pushing himself up.
"Right here," Kairyn grunted. He was slumped against a nearby rock, his face covered in dust. He looked around, his eyes widening. "Where the heck are we? This... this isn't the Void."
Joshua stood up, leaning on his sword. He didn't need Kage to tell him that they were somewhere completely different. The air here was heavy and still. It didn't smell like cotton candy or ozone. It smelled like damp earth, wet stone, and something... old. Very old.
"Kage, give me a sweep," Joshua commanded.
The raven took flight, his wings echoing in the massive, hollow space.
Through Kage's eyes, Joshua saw a world that looked like it had been forgotten by time itself. They were standing in a massive cavern, so large that the ceiling was lost in the shadows. But it wasn't a natural cave.
Below them lay the ruins of a city.
It wasn't like Narakka. There was no gold, no white marble, no glowing billboards. Everything was made of dark, heavy stone and oxidized copper. Massive pillars, carved with scenes of stars and warriors, rose from the floor, supporting nothing but darkness. Giant gears, some as big as houses, lay half-buried in the dirt, frozen in time.
"This is... it's a graveyard," Roselia whispered, stepping closer to Joshua. "But look at the architecture. It's almost like..."
"Velestia," Joshua finished the thought.
He walked over to a nearby pillar. He ran his hand over the carvings. His fingers traced the shape of a bird—the same kind of bird that Roselia could transform into. Further down, he felt a carving of an eye.
"This is the 'Heart in the Rust' the Book talked about," Joshua said. "Narakka isn't the original kingdom. It's a copy. This place... this is the foundation."
"Look!" Sharla pointed toward the center of the ruins.
In the middle of the ruined city sat a massive, circular dais. Resting on top of it was a tree. But it wasn't a mechanical tree like the ones in the slums, and it wasn't a glowing tree like the Myth's World-Tree.
It was a tree made of pure, translucent crystal. It didn't glow, but it seemed to hum with a low, deep frequency that resonated with the Old Book in Joshua's pocket.
"The Primordial Root," Kairyn whispered, his voice filled with awe. "The legends said the first people of the sky didn't use hypnosis. They used 'Origin Light.' They say the city was called Velestia Primordial Palace before it was split."
Suddenly, the ruins began to glow. Small, bioluminescent mushrooms and moss flickered to life, bathing the stone city in a soft, ethereal blue light.
"We shouldn't be here," a new voice echoed through the cavern.
It wasn't a booming voice like the Herald's. It was soft, melodic, and sounded like a poem being whispered in the wind.
From behind the crystal tree, a figure emerged. He was tall and slender, wearing robes made of what looked like shifting ink and paper. He held a long, silver quill in his hand, and his hair was as white as fallen snow.
"Keltatar?" Joshua asked, his grip tightening on his sword.
The figure stopped, tilting his head. "I am a shadow of what once was. A keeper of the archive that no one visits. You have fallen far, children of the surface. To come to the roots is to ask for the truth. And the truth... the truth is a heavy burden to carry."
"We're looking for our parents," Roselia said, stepping forward. "And we're looking for a way to stop the Myth."
Keltatar smiled sadly. He looked at Joshua's blindfold, then at Roselia's eyes. "The Myth is but a sprout from a poisoned root. You seek to cut the sprout, but do you have the strength to dig up the root?"
He waved his quill, and the air between them began to shimmer. Images appeared—flickering scenes of a man who looked like Joshua and a woman who looked like Roselia, standing in this very cavern years ago.
"They were here," Sharla gasped. "Joshua, your parents were here!"
"They left a message," Keltatar said. "But to hear it, you must first survive the guardians of the roots. The Myth's Herald is not the only thing that hunts in the dark."
From the shadows of the ruined buildings, massive, mechanical shapes began to move. They weren't Aeon-Gears, and they weren't Dreamy Beasts. They were ancient, stone guardians, their eyes glowing with a cold, blue fire.
"Great," Roselia sighed, drawing her daggers. "More fighting. Can we ever just have a nice chat and some tea?"
"Later," Joshua said, finally reaching for his blindfold. "First, we clear the path."