Rowena continued, the words spilling out, a torrent of secrets she had held in her heart for years.

"Your father was a Legendary-level warrior. He never did anything without a contingency plan," she said, her voice hollow. "You, and this Lord's Stone… you were his contingency. The future of the Lokiviria."

She pushed the box into his hands. "Now, that future is yours. All of it. Live or die. The choice is yours to make."

It was the sound of a heart breaking, of a hope dying. Or maybe, it was the sound of acceptance.

In that moment, Rowena made a new decision. She would convince her current mate to leave the insectoid Tribe with her. She would forge a new fate, a new life, for the child growing inside her. The arrival of the outsider and Lokiviria's now uncontrollable ambition had tripped every survival instinct she had. A deep, primal sense of crisis screamed at her to run.

She had to escape this place, to flee the disaster she felt brewing on the horizon. She had endured too much for too long. Freezing winds, gnawing hunger, the sting of contempt, the cold shoulder of exile… she had survived it all. For the sake of the new life she carried, she craved peace.

A wave of disappointment washed over her as she looked at her son. Her years of education, of protection and guidance, had been a failure.

Lokiviria wasn't even listening. His entire being was fixated on the wooden box, his body trembling with an uncontrollable, rapturous excitement. He held the object of all his dreams.

Rowena shook her head, a final, silent dismissal. While Lokiviria was still lost in his trance, she turned and walked away. With her mate and a few loyal attendants, she left the insectoid Tribe behind.

Everything that remained—the people, the territory, the legacy—she left to Lokiviria. It would be his starting capital, the foundation for his glorious rise or his catastrophic fall.

She was his mother, and in her heart, she had disowned him.

But she was also his mother, and in her own broken way, she supported him.

By leaving, she was not just protecting her unborn child; she was giving Lokiviria the one thing she now realized he truly needed: the chance to face the world alone.

A sudden, painful clarity struck her. He has to suffer. That's the only way he'll ever truly grow. It was the harshest lesson her own life had taught her. The more you endure, the more you see.

Her emotions, once a storm of anger and despair, settled into something new. Having finally let go, all that was left was a quiet prayer, a desperate hope, and the profound relief of surrender. His life was his own now.

As a woman who had survived two annihilations, she wanted nothing more to do with the ghosts of the past. The danger was too great. She had seen races erased from existence. She was terrified that one day, she and her unborn child would simply vanish, their deaths as meaningless as they were violent.

And so, Rowena left.

And her son, Lokiviria, began to walk his own path.

In the sixth layer of the Abyss, within the Foundry Citadel.

Seated high atop the central spire, Orion looked out over his domain and the gray, desolate world beyond its walls. In this world, now consumed by the Graying, every abyssal creature had been driven to a state of frantic despair. They were adrift in a sea of nothingness, with no sense of place or purpose.

The word 'lost' didn't even begin to cover the existential horror that had descended. Every living thing was fighting a silent, psychological war against an enemy they couldn't see.

Amidst the suffocating quiet, Orion directed his Deathly Soul-Reaper, its senses sweeping every inch of the Foundry Citadel. He found nothing. No trace of a threat, no sign of intrusion.

The same frustrating silence was being echoed in the Champions Alliance public channel.

Leonidas: Goddammit. Thank fuck I have a surplus food policy for all my territories.

Leonidas: The entire Abyss is on lockdown. Nothing gets in, nothing gets out. Without reserves, my people would be tearing each other apart by now. The Unhallowed wouldn't even have to show up.

He was being diplomatic. He said they'd be tearing each other apart, not that they'd be resorting to the kind of clan-on-clan slaughter and cannibalism that was likely already happening elsewhere.

Kraken: Big boss, can't you just transfer supplies from the Survivor's Platform?

As always, Kraken was the first to reply.

Leonidas: That's the craziest fucking part! We can still talk on the platform, use the chat just fine. But you can't withdraw a single item into the Abyss. The inventory is locked.

Leonidas: Do you guys realize what that means?

Leonidas: The power behind the Unhallowed, whatever abyssal ruleset it's using, can actively counter the Survivor's Platform. It can fight back.

Leonidas's revelation dropped a heavy silence on the channel.

Orion quickly tested it himself. The platform's interface was accessible, but his inventory was grayed out. Nothing could be materialized.

Makareth: Oh, we're screwed. I have a ton of food stashed in my platform inventory. It's not gonna get wiped, is it?

The reality of the situation finally hit him.

Hulk: Tried it. Same result. Can't pull anything.

Hulk: @Makareth Your stuff isn't gone for good. If you have an avatar on another world, you can log in with your soul and access it from there.

Orion shared his discovery, but his mind was reeling from Leonidas's point. The Survivor's Platform, the very bedrock of their existence, could be resisted. It could be nullified. He had never imagined such a thing was possible. If the rules governing the platform weren't absolute, if they could be bent or broken…

The more he thought about it, the more a cold dread crept up his spine. If the platform wasn't inviolable, then every Survivor was exposed, their greatest secrets and defenses laid bare for anyone with the power to see.

Including him.

Kraken: So uh… Big boss, Hulk, Mak… what do these Unhallowed things even look like?

Kraken: All you guys do is talk about them. I'm dying of curiosity over here.

Kraken asked the very question Orion wanted answered. For all his power, for all his command over territories in two separate layers of the Abyss, he hadn't seen so much as a shadow of the enemy.

Hulk: I'd like to know too.

Makareth: How the hell should I know? All I see is gray. Miles and miles of fucking gray.

There was a clear edge to Makareth's tone. Orion's theory about the Demondrake had lit a fire under him. He knew he had powerful bros to back him up, but he couldn't rely on them to bail him out every time. If he didn't get stronger on his own, he would always be at the mercy of others.

Leonidas: Guys, we've got contact.

Leonidas: There's a shadow over my main keep. It's blocking out the sky.

The channel went dead. Leonidas was gone.

Orion immediately logged off the platform, his full attention snapping back to his surroundings, his senses scanning every inch of Vigil's Point and the Foundry Citadel.

There was nothing. Still nothing at all.

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