Caius Vexley’s heart raced as the darkness pressed in from all sides. The air felt thicker now, alive with an unnatural chill that sank into his bones. His fingers trembled as he summoned another rune—this time, a flare of white light exploded from his hand, cutting through the blackness like a sword. For a moment, he could see the chamber again—its high stone walls, the shattered remains of the Celestian Orb, the twisting sigil still pulsing in the center of the floor.

  And then, just as quickly, the light flickered.

  A low growl reverberated through the air, a sound that seemed to come from every corner, yet nowhere at all. Caius clenched his jaw and fought back the rising panic. Whatever this was, it wasn’t something he could face alone.

  The figure in the shadows moved again. This time, it was clear—a silhouette that stretched and shifted, its shape bending with impossible angles. It was like watching something slip in and out of reality, a creature neither of the physical world nor the spirit realm. Its eyes, or what Caius could make out as eyes, gleamed like two burning stars, pinpricks of malice in the blackness. Caius

  “Too late…” the voice rasped again, now unmistakably close.

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  Caius gritted his teeth and extended his hand toward the sigil, drawing on every ounce of his power. The rune on his palm flared brightly, sending a shockwave of energy into the room.

  But nothing happened.

  The sigil remained, taunting him.

  “No,” Caius muttered, realizing the grim truth. The sigil was a barrier. A lock. And whatever it was guarding…

  It was waiting for him.

  His mind raced. He had to stop whatever this was from breaking through. He had to find a way to close the gate, or they would all be doomed.

  Just as he reached for the nearest wall, something pulled at the edges of his consciousness—something distant, yet familiar. A ripple of energy, a connection to the stars. A pulse, like a beacon, calling to him from somewhere beyond the veil.

  It was the gate.

  Caius’s gaze shifted to the far corner of the room. There, hidden in the shadows, he saw it—a faint outline of a portal. The Gate of Vellorin, an ancient rift to the forgotten realms, sealed long ago.

  And it was opening.

  “Not yet,” Caius whispered, stumbling toward it, every instinct screaming at him to run. But he couldn’t. The gate was already drawing him in, its pull too strong. The whispers were growing louder, becoming words he could understand now:

  “Come, Caius Vexley… the stars are calling you.”

  In that moment, he realized something worse than the darkness waiting beyond. The gate wasn’t just a prison—it was a trap.

  Before he could react, the shadowed figure lunged, and Caius was plunged into the abyss.