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What the fuck? James had heard that voice before. It was the voice of the Demonic Dragon. But the way it spoke. It spoke in English, but those around him muttered and discussed what the voice had said in Khrelardian. And…everyone understood it?

His mana core fluttered in his chest, and he closed his eyes, listening to the inner voice. The words it said chilled him to the depths of his being, and he opened his eyes, staring to the direction the voice came from.

Vael and Gael were lounging outside of the dread fortress with some of the other guards who were on break. They heard Lyn\'s voice…no, the voice of the Destroyer, speaking in Arinol. Listening to the proclamation, they grinned and stood up, "Hail Lyn Rivers! Destroyer!"

The Duskari and Newen around them took up the cheer, and soon the whole of Lynhold was roaring in tandem.

The elder members of the council ran out and joined in the chanting. A people, two different races, united under a singular cause.

The twins shared a look. They knew more would come. More would join Lyn\'s banner. She would build a world…and they would be by her side.

Trisha and Ben were sitting down to dinner with their four children. She was admonishing Lawry for holding his fork incorrectly, when the duo heard the voice. Ben stood up immediately and his mana flared around him as he prepared to fight…whatever it was.

They shared a look. They had heard that voice before. The Demonic Dragon. But…it promised to…do good things? "Ben…" Trisha said gently. "Sit down and let\'s finish dinner."

Ben gave her a quizzical stare, "We can\'t just not do anything. You know that voice as well as I do."

"There\'s nothing we could do right now."

Ben grunted and stared South before sighing and sitting, "No, you\'re right. There\'s nothing we could do." He looked at her. "Our family comes first."

Trisha gulped down the knot that had risen in her throat and nodded. Our family comes first.

Kory felt his heart racing as he jolted upright. He heard the voice, that familiar, taunting voice that had been suppressed by violence, lust, drinking and drugs. It resonated through his memories, dredging up the one time he had ever run from a fight. He had backed down, something his family had told him he should never, ever do.

And he was terrified. If it\'s back…I don\'t stand a chance…he needed someone to protect him. Someone he could ally with. Someone who could keep him safe while he recovered. Ben didn\'t trust him, Trisha tolerated him. None of the heroes were his friends. But…there\'s always her.

He kicked his leg and stump over the edge of the bed and grabbed the prosthetic, putting it on and reading the complicated spell from Trisha\'s instructions. He screamed in pain as he finished the incantation, as he felt his skin move down and stitch into the top of the metal appendage. After a few seconds, it faded to a dull throb, like a pulled muscle, and he chuckled at the sensation of having a foot again. It felt…natural. And he could already feel his mana channels extending down the fake limb.

He got up, rushed out of the hospital, and stole a horse, riding hard for Valagonia. To the one person that might be able to protect him. The most powerful woman he knew. The only one who might take him back. The woman who had enough power to keep him safe.

Misty sat up straight in her high-backed chair. She heard the voice, and it sent her reeling. The last time she had heard that voice, she abandoned her best friend to die. The fear and panic she had kept suppressed overtook her, and she got up and ran to the nearby closet, closing it behind her and sinking back into the darkness.

Safe space safe space safe space. She clutched her temples and tried to shut out the mocking laughter, the proclamation she just heard from the thing her best friend had died defeating. I\'m sorry I left you, she thought. I should have been stronger. She felt the tears falling down her face and sobbed into her hands, praying to whoever was listening to forgive her. The dam was open, and she felt the flood of memories wash over her in the darkness.

The parents who never had time for her. Having to raise her siblings because her parents were too high to care for them. Only finding solace in her art and her friend. Thomas\' betrayal of that friendship. The summoning, the deaths, the violence…it was all coming back. Never dealt with, never thought about.

Safe space safe space no one can hurt you in your safe space.

Brad heard the noise. It broke through the din of revelry and the haze of smoke at Fort Watch. The voice he was familiar with but had almost forgotten entirely. Years as Cecily\'s prisoner, victim, and then thrall having repressed the memories. The dam burst forth, and he turned to the bartender, reaching for several steins and draining them. Mixing this into my system with- his mind was going a million miles a minute determining the best combination of herbs and medicines he had designed that would blitz him the fuck out of his mind.

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But he stopped and took a deep breath. No. You don\'t do that anymore. He wasn\'t just some druggie. He stood up and went to the door, walked to his horse, and left Fort Watch, making for the enormous, two-mile long fortification in front of the Valley of the Volcano. He saw the blazing summit, surging and bubbling as it melted the snowy cap – a gout of steam rising into the skies above before it crystallized and snowed, shrouding the Valley in grey.

The Demonic Dragon wouldn\'t want good things for the world. Coming from a broken home himself, with food insecurity that left him begging from his friends and classmates…he had to help bring that vision to life. It was proof to Brad. Proof that Volio was telling the truth. Lyn was the Destroyer. And…she can help me get revenge.

Cecily shot up in bed and looked to the North. Her mind flooded with those memories of that voice but were quickly suppressed by her Ruler mana core. No matter, she thought. I have an alliance on the way to combine the two strongest militaries on Ghomar. She laid back down, feeling the immense amount of mana within her torso. She had consumed thousands of mana cores. Ones from the peasants, weak ones. But cores that were pushed to their limits. Why complete dungeons and risk life and limb when one can just grow in strength from the comfort of their own city?

Quantity over quality, she thought as she turned over and pulled the blankets tighter. I am unstoppable. I will have my empire…my world. She smiled as she sank deeper into the mattress. No Demonic Dragon could stop me.

Thomas was standing and stretching, slowly building up muscle strength, when he heard the voice. The Demonic Dragon…but…the language was weird. He heard it speaking in English. And the voice…not the voice, no, but the cadence. The way the words were pronounced. The pause before the fourth vowel…Lyn?

He stared ahead, vividly remembering the Duskari claiming to be Lyn. The one that Volio was convinced was the real deal. I…shit… He began putting his few meager supplies into a satchel. He had to talk to Misty. I can visit Ben and Trisha on the way, take the hidden entrance in the Northern mountains.

Without his Knowledge hero core, he was weak. All he had was his intelligence and his learning. But…he had read things in the Ruins of Elent. He knew something no one else on Ghomar knew. I have to find her.

Volio smiled as he began the ascent up the small incline to the town that Trisha and Ben lived in. The crystal arrow had let him travel most of Ghomar in one shot. And I\'ve got one more to get back to Lyn. That shot would be a lot less risky, since he could just aim for the volcano, wait for the impact to reverberate, and then use his spell.

He stood, stock still, as he heard the voice. And he smiled. That\'s my Lyn. She was declaring great, wonderful things for Ghomar. Her vision. We\'ll make it happen, he thought. You and me. I\'ll be by your side. He grabbed her undergarments once more and held them to his nose, inhaling her scent. I\'ll rule beside you…if you\'ll have me.

No. He would rule beside her. She knew him. She was his. He was hers.

They had a connection.

Grinning, he trekked up the hill, only sparing a glance at the cloaked, massive figure who rode down the road past him. A bedraggled man wielding an enormous hammer - Kory. I already delivered his package. He shrugged and continued onward. The sooner he gave Trisha and Ben their package, the sooner he could do his last run to Misty.

Then…I\'ll come back to you…my love.

The world returned around Lyn as the trial concluded. The final hallway opened, and she strode through. Confident. In control. The final chamber had a large table made of obsidian, with three objects laying atop it. One was a pair of daggers. She picked them up, and they felt…right. As if her hands were made to hold them. An old tool, returning to its master. She could feel the ease at which her power coursed through them.

Pulling Cataclysm, she touched the daggers to it, and the hilt split into two smaller blades that she let mana course through. The blades of lava limned with shards of earth and air flickered dimly. Stealth weaponry. Very nice. She deactivated the weapon, it reformed the singular hilt, and she socketed that into the hip slot on the armor.

Next on the altar was a bracer. It was inscribed, and as she read the inscription, her eyes went wide with realization. Holy shit. She immediately put it on – and the armor seemingly accepted the new addition, integrating it into the design – a missing piece of its completed state. She raised her wrist, channeled the small amount of mana necessary, and saw a map of Ghomar appear in the air before her. Several red dots appeared, and as she focused on them, she saw the name of the dungeon. I don\'t need a diviner anymore. Well, for finding dungeons.

She focused mana into the object, trying to see if it had a further function, and instead of being a two-dimensional overlay, it became a three-dimensional hologram of the localized area. She could see the topography and buildings of the Valley of the Volcano – but none of the living creatures within. Still, that\'s incredibly useful. As she let the mana recede, she focused on the single blue dot. It showed the location of the dungeon she had already cleared. Many dungeons were available, three of which were in the Valley of the Volcano.

Turning to the last item, she saw an ornate wooden box. Inside was a mana core that was black as pitch. I wonder what this does? She consumed it. Gasping, she felt the magma within her mana core stop moving, and a calm, smooth feeling overwhelmed her. It felt…right. As if a part of her was missing and finally reclaimed.

Then, it bubbled up once more. Willing it into the hilt of Cataclysm she saw the spell-type she had just gained access to. The blade flickered with black liquid. Shadow elementalism. Given her ability to see in the darkness as a Duskari, she knew this would be incredibly useful in combat. I\'ll have to play around with this.

There was something else; she knew she was capable of some other, incredible external spell type…but she had no name for it. Prismatic sparkles danced upon the blade, hinting at some hidden power. The Destroyer core surged in her torso, and she knew she did not have nearly enough mana to utilize whatever it was.

Looking past the altar, and scanning the room, she found nothing else of note. "Time to leave," she muttered as she pressed the icon atop the altar. I have dungeons to conquer. Allies to make…an empire to build.

"A world to fix."

To ruin and then rebuild from the ashes.