Chapter 10

Smoke rose from the ruins of Lodoros Isle, the bodies of fallen Voidwalkers scattered across its floating surface. The Dark Avatar stood amid the carnage, his massive form a twisted fusion of Builder and demon lord – Valmir's flesh warped by Bahumura's essence. His search had proved fruitless, and his patience wore thin.

The isle hung suspended in an endless void, a chunk of land defying the nothingness that surrounded it. Other islands dotted the infinite darkness, connected only by the Flow – a river of pure energy that wound between them like a luminescent serpent. The Dark Avatar turned his grotesque visage toward the eastern docks, his army of Shadowfiends moving in his wake like a tide of living darkness.

The Flowrider vessel waited at the dock, its hull designed to ride the streams of pure energy. Its size forced a decision – many of his Shadowfiend forces would have to remain behind on Lodoros. The Dark Avatar didn't hesitate to leave them; they were tools, nothing more.

The journey to the next isle was silent save for the ethereal hum of the Flow beneath them. Baskar Isle emerged from the void, notably larger than Lodoros. As they docked and the Dark Avatar stepped onto solid ground, his remaining Shadowfiends trailing behind him, a single figure stood in their path.

An old man, nothing more – or so it seemed at first glance. The Dark Avatar raised the Burning Blade, its crimson edge gleaming with stolen power. Several Shadowfiends surged forward at his silent command.

The old man scoffed.

With a casual wave of his hand, raw power erupted from his position. The Shadowfiends simply... ceased to exist, their forms scattered like ash in a hurricane.

"I am the Chief of my people, Tek Milama," the old man announced, his voice carrying surprising authority. "And you shall not pass this point." He stomped his foot like someone shooing away an unwanted pet. "Leave my land immediately!"

The Dark Avatar's laugh was an unsettling mixture of synthetic and demonic tones, echoing across the floating isle. He took a step forward, testing this unexpected obstacle.

"BE GONE!" Tek's voice thundered as he raised his palm. Blinding energy erupted from it, striking the Dark Avatar square in the chest. The impact sent shock waves through his twisted form, forcing him to raise the Burning Blade in defense.

"Who are you, old man?" For the first time since his transformation, genuine surprise colored the Dark Avatar's voice.

"I'm just an old chief with people to protect." Tek's voice crackled with age, but held firm. "You won't find what you're looking for here."

The Dark Avatar surveyed the battlefield – most of his remaining forces lay in ruins, destroyed by this seemingly frail elder's power. A growl rose from his throat, but Tek merely stomped his foot again.

"I SAID BE GONE!!!"

The blast that followed dwarfed the first, a wall of pure energy that slammed into the Dark Avatar with the force of a collapsing star. He found himself driven back, step by step, until he stood at the very edge of the isle, the endless void yawning beneath him.

Curiosity warred with caution in his twisted mind. This old man's power was... impossible. Another mystery to unravel, perhaps, but not now. Not when one misstep could send him plummeting into the infinite abyss below.

The Dark Avatar raised the Burning Blade one final time, but it was a gesture of frustration rather than attack. He backed onto the Flowrider, his few surviving Shadowfiends scrambling aboard behind him. As they pulled away from Baskar Isle, he kept his gaze fixed on the diminutive figure of Tek Milama.

The old man stood watching until they disappeared into the void, a guardian whose true nature remained yet another mystery in this realm of endless questions. The Dark Avatar turned his attention to the Flow ahead, his quest for the gateway to Primordia far from over.

But he would remember this encounter. Once Noma fell, perhaps he would return to learn just what power this "old chief" truly wielded.

The Flowrider surged forward, carrying its dark passengers deeper into the void, leaving behind an isle that held more questions than answers.

***

The ruins of Pathfinder Point's portal room stood as testament to recent battles. Shattered crystal panels littered the floor, their once-pristine surfaces now clouded and cracked. Mechanoids scurried about like metallic ants, some clearing debris while others welded damaged wall panels back into place. The air smelled of ozone and heated metal, punctuated by the rhythmic whirring of machinery.

Chris and Violet emerged from the dimensional gateway, the familiar electric tingle of portal travel still dancing across their skin. The scene before them was drastically different from their last chaotic visit – no Shadowfiends in sight, just the methodical work of reconstruction.

A large mechanoid approached them, its chrome-plated frame more sophisticated than the worker units but nowhere near Vincent's level of advancement. Violet rolled her eyes, already tensing for another confrontation.

"I am Rusty," the mechanoid announced, its voice carrying a surprisingly warm timbre for a machine. Articulated panels shifted around its face in what almost seemed like a smile. "Pathfinder Point is technically closed, though I'm quite curious how you arrived... No matter. You're here now."

"You're from Explorer's Landing, aren't you?" Chris asked, recognizing the distinctive Lunaris design elements in the mechanoid's construction.

"Indeed! Usually stationed with Wingnut at the landing," Rusty's optical sensors whirred as they adjusted focus. "Though I suspect you might know something about why he's been so distracted with tavern duties lately?" The mechanoid's tone carried a hint of knowing amusement.

Chris tried to maintain an innocent expression while Violet poorly suppressed a smirk.

"Master Killener made quite thorough work of the Shadowfiends," Rusty continued, gesturing to the reconstruction efforts. "Never seen anything like it. One moment we were overrun, the next – nothing but ash and silence. Remarkable individual."

Chris and Violet exchanged glances. Once again, they found themselves following in Krauser's wake of destruction.

"The Path of Giants," Violet said, stepping forward. "We need to find it. It's urgent."

"You're standing on it, so to speak," Rusty replied, pointing south through a massive window. "The great fields beyond – though I should mention it's named for the behemoths that roam there, not actual giants. First-time visitors are often disappointed by that detail."

Chris couldn't help but laugh. "We've been here before, haven't we? During that first chaotic visit?"

"Right through these very fields," Violet confirmed, shaking her head at the irony.

Following Rusty's directions and thanking him, they headed south into the vast expanse. The journey across the Path of Giants was long but strangely peaceful. Herds of behemoths – massive, four-legged creatures with armored hides – grazed in the distance, paying them no mind. The only signs of conflict were the scattered remnants of Krauser's battles: scorched earth, crystallized sand where intense heat had struck, and the occasional pile of ash that had once been a Shadowfiend.

The plains eventually gave way to dense jungle, where a narrow trail cut through vegetation unlike anything on Earth. Fluorescent vines pulsed with bio-luminescence, and strange bird-like creatures with multiple sets of wings darted between the trees. The path led them to an ancient structure that AIDA identified as Builder Temple Delta.

"The architecture is remarkable," Chris noted, running his hand along the seamless metal walls. "It doesn't look built so much as... grown."

They found a massive archway inside, its frame adorned with cryptic symbols that seemed to shift and change when viewed directly. Unlike other ancient writings Chris had encountered, these remained stubbornly incomprehensible.

"AIDA," Chris called out, "can you help us activate it?"

The AI guided them through the activation sequence, warning against changing any coordinates. Soon, a swirling vortex of blue energy filled the arch, revealing a twilight-bathed village beyond.

Hand in hand, they leaped through, landing on cobblestones beneath an alien sky. A Voidwalker warrior confronted them immediately, his armor a mixture of advanced technology and medieval styling, weapon raised.

"HALT!" the warrior commanded, but a familiar figure in a crimson cloak appeared behind him.

"Stand down," Krauser Killener commanded. "They're friends."

Eidos Village was unlike anything Chris had ever seen. Buildings that seemed pulled from a fairy tale book stood alongside structures that defied physics, their architecture blending medieval charm with impossible geometries. Streets wound in patterns that somehow connected despite appearing to lead in contradictory directions. Strange creatures that looked like living shadows moved about, shifting between various forms as they went about their business.

The most striking feature was the light – or rather, the lack of it. No sun shone in the Void Realm; instead, the village was illuminated by the distant glow of the Flow, that river of pure energy that wound between the floating islands. The effect was an eternal twilight that painted everything in subtle shades of purple and blue.

They followed Krauser to what appeared to be a tavern, though its interior seemed to occasionally shift when viewed from the corner of one's eye. As they sat at a table that felt simultaneously wooden and not quite solid, Krauser delivered the impossible news.

"I've been here for several months now," he began, his expression sympathetic as he noted their confusion. "Time flows differently in the Void Realm. What's been hours for you has been months for me."

"That's..." Chris struggled to find words.

"Impossible," Violet finished.

Krauser smiled gently. "I thought the same at first. But look around you – nothing here follows the rules we're used to. I've made a life here, actually. The Voidwalkers needed help clearing out the Shadowfiends the Dark Avatar left behind. In the process, I met Onu'rah – she's actually a goddess, if you can believe it – and..." his expression softened, "I met Alenia. We married two weeks ago."

"Married?" Chris echoed in disbelief.

"And the Dark Avatar?" Violet's voice was tight with tension.

Krauser's expression grew serious. "Valmir returned recently on a Flowrider. He's free – Bahumura left his body and is now trapped in Primordia, in a place called the God's Altar. Someone named Lucia imprisoned him there. It's over."

"Over?" Violet stood so abruptly her chair fell backward. "Over? My mother's soul was destroyed! The Afterplane was ravaged! And we're supposed to accept that everything's just... fixed? That quickly?" Her voice rose with each word. "You're married? You've solved everything and settled down while we were still processing what happened?"

Violet stormed out of the tavern, the door seeming to warp slightly in her wake. Chris quickly followed, leaving Krauser with a helpless shrug. Outside, the eternal twilight cast long shadows across the cobblestones as they made their way through the village's twisted streets.

Living shadows skittered out of Violet's path as she walked, perhaps sensing her fury. They found a quiet spot near the island's edge, where the endless void stretched out below them like an ocean of darkness. The Flow's purple-blue energy stream wound through the nothingness like a luminescent serpent, connecting to distant islands that floated like dreams in the void.

"How can any of this be real?" Violet's voice cracked with emotion. She picked up a stone and hurled it into the void. It fell forever, disappearing into the darkness. "My mother... she didn't just die, Chris. Her soul was destroyed. Consumed. And Krauser's acting like it was just another Tuesday, solved and forgotten!"

Chris watched her carefully, understanding her pain but seeing something else too – a dangerous glint in her eyes that reminded him of the moment she'd first revealed her true demonic nature to him.

"Maybe we should trust his word on this," he ventured carefully. "If Valmir himself confirmed—"

"No!" Violet's eyes suddenly fixed on something behind him. Chris turned to see a Flowrider docked nearby, its sleek form designed to navigate the energy streams of the Flow. The vessel bobbed gently, tethered to the dock by glowing mooring lines.

"We need to know the truth," Violet said, her voice taking on a determined edge that Chris had learned to both admire and fear. "We need to see Primordia ourselves. This Lucia, the God's Altar – if Bahumura is really trapped there, I need to see it with my own eyes."

"Violet, think about this," Chris stepped closer to her. "We don't know the first thing about navigating the Flow. If what Krauser says is true about time moving differently—"

"Are you with me or not?" Her eyes met his, and in them he saw all the pain and rage she'd been holding back since her mother's death. "I can't... I can't just accept this. Not without seeing it myself."

Chris looked back at the village, its impossible architecture gleaming in the eternal twilight. Then he looked at Violet, and his decision was made before he even realized it. "I'm with you. Always."

They were aboard the Flowrider before anyone noticed, quickly figuring out its basic controls. The vessel responded to touch and intent more than any specific mechanisms. As they began to pull away from the dock, they heard running footsteps on the weathered boards.

"Stop!" Krauser's voice carried across the distance, urgent but not angry. "The Flow is treacherous! There are paths that lead to oblivion, loops that bring you back here, branches that go on forever! You could lose years searching, or worse—"

But Violet wasn't listening. Her grief and rage had overwhelmed her reason, and Chris couldn't bring himself to leave her alone. The Flowrider pulled away from the dock, its hull humming as it met the energy stream.

"Some paths never lead back home," Krauser's final warning faded behind them as the vessel picked up speed.

Chris watched Lodoros Isle recede into the distance, its fairy-tale buildings and impossible geometry growing smaller until they were just another speck in the endless void. At the helm, Violet stood rigid, her face set with determination as she guided them deeper into the unknown.

The Flow carried them forward, its ethereal energy casting everything in that strange purple-blue light. Chris moved to stand beside her, taking her hand. She squeezed it tightly, but didn't look away from their course.

"What have we done?" Chris whispered, but his words were swallowed by the vast silence of the void.

Above them, around them, below them – darkness stretched in every direction, broken only by the flowing river of energy that carried them ever onward. Somewhere ahead lay answers, or oblivion, or both. But they were committed now, chasing truth through a realm where even time itself couldn't be trusted.

The Flowrider surged forward, carrying its passengers deeper into the void, leaving behind the last familiar face they might ever see. Ahead, the Flow branched into multiple streams, each promising a different destiny, and none guaranteeing a way back home.