The fire crackled softly, casting long shadows across the garden as the old man leaned forward in his chair. He looked into the fmes, his fingers csped together, his face concerned. Melissa kept a careful eye on him because she could feel the gravity of what he was going to say.

  He started by saying, "The Echoing Encve has always been impenetrable." "No one born in Pentra could even approach it without being noticed for as long as I can remember." He tapped the armrest with his finger. "Intruders were deterred by more than just the guards and the obstacles. I sensed them. I have always been aware of the presence that each and every Pentra resident carries, a thread in the fabric of our pce.

  Melissa tilted her head slightly, intrigued. “So no one from Pentra could sneak in?”

  The old man nodded. “Exactly. The moment someone stepped too close, I would know. Whether they walked in broad daylight or crept through the shadows, it made no difference.”

  He sighed, his eyes darkening. “But this time… it was different. These thieves, they weren’t from Pentra. They were outsiders, beyond the barrier’s reach. I didn’t sense them. I didn’t feel their presence at all.”

  Melissa’s eyes widened slightly. “You’re saying they got all the way to the vase without you even realizing it?”

  The old man gave a slow nod. “Not until it was too te.” His fingers curled into a fist. “By the time I sensed anything, they already had the Span Vase in their hands.”

  Silence stretched between them, broken only by the shifting embers in the fire. The weight of his words settled over Melissa like a stone.

  For the first time, the Echoing Encve—a pce that had withstood centuries of time, a pce no one from Pentra could infiltrate—had been breached.

  And worse, the divine artifact that had been sealed away for so long was now in the hands of unknown thieves. A while back in the encve, Tess turned the Span Vase over in her hands, inspecting it with a raised brow. The artefact was simple, dark, and smooth, but it felt almost... unimpressive for something that was valuable enough for them to be sent to steal.

  “Hmm,” she muttered. “This was too easy. No security, no traps, nothing but a long walk. A child could’ve pulled this off.” She gnced at the others. “So why the hell was there even a need to hire us?”

  Orin, still catching his breath from the long trek, gave a half-hearted shrug. “I guess… good lu—”

  He didn’t finish.

  The air in the encve shifted.

  A deep, suffocating pressure crashed down upon them all at once, heavy and inescapable. The temperature plummeted in an instant, and an unnatural chill stabbed into their bones. The very walls of the encve seemed to hum, as if something ancient had awakened.

  Orin’s words caught in his throat as a sharp, primal terror crawled up his spine. He could see it—feel it—the same realization gripping each of them at once.

  They weren’t alone.

  And whatever had just turned its gaze upon them… it wasn’t something they could fight.

  Tess’s breath hitched as she clutched the vase tighter, her fingers trembling. Vex took an instinctive step back, his body screaming at him to move, to run. Orin clenched his jaw, his fists curling, but even he knew there was no escape from this.

  “RUN!”

  Nyx’s voice tore through the crushing silence, raw with urgency. His body was already moving before the words had even left his lips. “If we don’t get out now, we’re dead! We’ll be buried where we stand!”

  No one hesitated.

  Tess shoved the vase into her pack, and the five of them bolted, their survival instincts overriding every other thought. Their only chance was to outrun whatever had just awakened.

  But deep within the encve, something stirred.

  Something ancient.

  And it wasn’t going to let them leave so easily.

  The moment they turned to run, the entire encve shook.

  A voice—deep, thunderous, and filled with unrestrained fury—ripped through the cavernous space, vibrating through the very stone.

  “ YOU DARE ”

  The sheer force of the words sent a shockwave crashing through the air, smming into them like an invisible wall. The ground beneath their feet trembled violently, loose debris breaking free from the cavern ceiling as cracks spiderwebbed across the ancient stone walls.

  Then came the pulses—bursts of raw, unfiltered energy that radiated outward in all directions. Each pulse struck them like a crushing wave, the sheer pressure threatening to bring them to their knees.

  Tess clenched her teeth as her body staggered under the force, her grip tightening on the Span Vase as if letting go would mean certain death.

  Nyx gritted his teeth, forcing himself to keep moving. “Keep running!” he shouted, his voice barely audible over the roaring energy around them.

  Orin let out a sharp breath, pushing himself forward. “What the hell is that?!”

  No answer came—only another pulse of power, stronger than the st.

  The encve itself seemed alive, reacting with violent fury to their presence. The echoes of the voice still lingered in the air, the rage behind it sending a bone-deep chill through them all.

  Something wasn’t just awakened.

  It was angry.

  And it wasn’t going to let them leave unscathed.

  Far in the distance, suspended in midair, an old man appeared. His presence alone seemed to distort the air around him, his long robes flowing despite the stillness. His face was twisted with sheer rage, his piercing gaze locked onto the fleeing thieves.

  Orin, who had dared to look back, felt the blood drain from his face. His breath caught in his throat as his voice came out weak, barely above a whisper.

  "We're dead."

  Then, as if his survival instincts finally kicked in, he ran like his life depended on it—because it did.

  But no matter how fast they sprinted, the old man was faster.

  One second, he was in the distance. The next, he vanished—only to reappear closer. Then again. And again. Each time, he moved with such terrifying speed that it seemed like he wasn’t even bound by the rules of space itself.

  Vex cursed. “What the hell is he?!”

  Nyx didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. They all knew. Whoever this man was, he was something far beyond them. They had faced danger before, but this? This was absolute power—and it was coming for them.

  Then came the worst part.

  Reality itself began to break.

  The ground behind them colpsed into the void, twisting and folding in on itself. Fractures in the very fabric of space opened up, swallowing everything into an abyss of endless darkness. It wasn’t just the encve shaking anymore; it was unraveling.

  Jagged bck voids ripped through the walls and floor, spreading faster than they could run. Each one pulsed with an eerie stillness, a terrifying silence that seemed to consume everything it touched.

  Tess risked a gnce back, her heart hammering in her chest. “Oh, hell no—”

  Nyx didn’t need to shout this time. No more warnings. No more commands.

  They all knew the truth.

  If they stopped for even a second, they wouldn’t just die.

  They would cease to exist.

  Desperation and the Final Gamble

  Their bodies screamed for air, their legs burned with exhaustion, but still, they ran.

  The colpse behind them was gaining. The voids of endless darkness were swallowing the encve piece by piece, drawing closer with each second. And the old man—that terrifying, furious entity—was almost upon them.

  Then, in the midst of his desperation, a thought struck Orin.

  The vase.

  If they threw it towards the old man, he might stop the destruction—or, better yet, if the vase shattered, maybe the whole thing would end.

  It was reckless. Maybe even stupid.

  But it was a chance.

  Without hesitation, Orin lunged forward and grabbed the bag from Tess’s hands.

  “What the hell are you doing?!” Tess shouted, whipping her head toward him in pure disbelief.

  “Trust me!” Orin shot back, already undoing the strap. He turned his head toward the floating old man, raising his voice so it would cut through the chaos.

  “I’LL THROW THE BAG INTO THE CRACKS IF YOU DON’T STOP!”

  The effect was instantaneous.

  The old man's expression twisted into something far beyond fury. His already menacing presence seemed to expand, and a wave of sheer power erupted from him.

  The very air shattered.

  A deafening shockwave bsted forward, distorting reality as it tore across the encve straight for them.

  Nyx, eyes widening in horror, barely managed to twist his body around before he screamed—

  “YOU IDIOT!”

  The wave hit them all at once.

  A force unlike anything they had ever felt crashed into their bodies, sending them spiraling out of control. Their ears rang with a piercing screech, their vision blurred as the world around them broke apart.

  And in that moment—

  Everything turned white.

  NOTE

  Tess "The Phantom Rider"Born of Chaos, Master of the SkiesTess was born and raised in Cript, a nd where the strong survived, the weak were forgotten, and the w was whatever you could enforce with a bde or a bullet. Crime wasn’t just a way of life—it was the only life. From the moment she could walk, she was running; from enforcers, from bounty hunters, from criminals who were worse than her. By the time she was a teenager, she wasn’t just running—she was flying.

  The sky was her escape, her battleground, her pyground. In a world of smog and steel, she carved her legend aboard The Bck Vulture, a sleek, modified airship that ran on stolen parts and raw skill. She was a rider, one of the best there ever was. Whether it was dodging sky-pirates, outrunning wmen, or making impossible deliveries, Tess never lost a chase.

  The Woman Who Couldn’t Be CaughtTess wasn’t just fast—she was untouchable. Every bounty hunter who tried to take her in ended up humiliated, broke, or dead. Every gang lord who tried to recruit her was left with nothing but an empty chair and a stolen purse. She lived on her own terms, flying through the criminal underworld like a ghost, never staying in one pce long enough to get tied down.

  But Cript had a way of pulling you back in, no matter how fast you flew. And sometimes, even the best riders hit turbulence.

  Appearance—The Tom-boy PhantomHair: Short, choppy, and jet bck with streaks of silver from the sun and wind. Always messy, always wild.

  Eyes: Piercing gray, sharp and calcuting, always scanning the world like a pilot reading the skies.

  Body: Athletic and toned, built for movement. Not overly muscur, but every part of her was lean, strong, and capable. Her curves were subtle, giving her an androgynous edge, but there was no mistaking her feminine confidence.

  Style: Worn-out cargo pants, a cropped jacket made of reinforced leather, and a pair of signature flight goggles always hanging around her neck. Her boots were scuffed from years of running, kicking, and leaping onto moving ships.

  Tess was attractive, but not in the delicate, polished way of noblewomen. She had the kind of raw, untamed beauty that came from confidence, skill, and an utter disregard for what people thought of her.

  Personality—Nonchant, Untamed, UnapologeticTess had a devil-may-care attitude about everything. Nothing rattled her. Whether she was staring down a crime boss or flying straight into a storm, she had the same cocky smirk and reckless confidence.

  "I don’t pn, I improvise."

  "You can’t catch what doesn’t stop moving."

  "Trust me? That’s your first mistake."

  She wasn’t heartless, but she never let anyone get too close. Attachments made you weak, and weakness got you killed.

  But deep down, beneath the swagger and sarcasm, there was a girl who had spent her whole life running, never staying in one pce long enough to figure out if she was running toward something—or just away from everything.