The chamber's bioluminescent glow dimmed as Cedric summoned the Genesis Memory. The fractured mural melted away into swirling light, coalescing into a scene older than history—an age before the Church, before kingdoms, before even the first Demon Lord.
---
Vision: Dawn of the First Weaver
He stood atop a basalt spire, high above a world still young. At his feet lay the Primordial Forge, a crater of liquid mana, bubbling with raw potential. Around him gathered figures draped in starlight robes—the first Threadkeepers, their hands raised in unity.
A deep, resonant voice echoed in Cedric's mind, though no lips moved:
> "We are the weavers of fate. We bind magic to purpose, channel chaos into order. But beyond this realm waits the Infinite Maw—an entity of pure entropy, yearning to consume creation."
Below the spire, a rift torn in reality spat forth horrid shapes—beings of living void, clawing toward the world. The Threadkeepers joined hands, threads of silver light weaving between them, forming a lattice that encased the Maw's tendrils, sealing the rift.
But the price was crushing: one by one, the Threadkeepers fell into stasis, their bodies woven into the lattice, eternally sustaining the seal. Only their names—lost to time—remained carved on the spire's stones.
---
Voiceover, Ancient and Grave
> "The Seal must endure. When the lattice weakens, a host is chosen—one mortal fused with the Seal's power. They become the Demon Lord, guardian and warder of the Maw. Their soul anchors the lattice, their life the price of containment."
A figure stepped forward: a tall warrior, face bright with resolve. He accepted a mantle carved from the Forge's brimstone, tattoos of living mana snaking across his skin. The lattice's power flared, binding him instantly. His eyes blazed with sorrow and purpose.
> "Go," whispered the voice. "Go, first Guardian. You are both the seal and the key."
He nodded once, then vanished—pulled into the lattice. The spire's lights dimmed, and the Seal held.
---
Return to Stoneglass Hold
Cedric gasped, staggering back. The vision faded, leaving him breathless. Lynne's eyes were wide in the half-light. "The first Guardian… the prototype of the system."
He wiped sweat from his brow. "Created to imprison the Infinite Maw. Not to conquer kingdoms."
Lynne knelt beside him. "And the Demon Lord cycle? A constant rebirth to refresh the Seal."
He nodded. "Thirty years was only the first cycle length. A hundred years designed to let each Guardian rest—until this fracture."
> SYSTEM ALERT
Dual-Host Anomaly: Genesis Seal at 64% Integrity
Risk: Maw Breach if Integrity < 50%
Cedric's heart sank. "The Seal is cracking. That second resurrection didn't just break the cycle—it weakened the lattice."
Lynne swallowed. "If the Seal fails…"
He didn't finish the thought. He knew what lay beyond—a tide of entropy, devouring world and magic alike.
Cedric closed his eyes. "Then I won't let it fail. I'll restore the Seal. And I'll do it on my terms."
Lynne placed a hand on his arm. "We'll need to gather more of these fragments. Find every hidden vault the Threadkeepers left behind."
He looked at the shattered spire carving on the wall—now revealed as a map of lost holds. "Then we move at dawn. And we do whatever it takes to save this world… and our revenge can wait."
As the first light of morning filtered through the broken windows, Cedric felt the weight of centuries settle upon him—and the clarity of his purpose sharpen like a blade.