The rift’s interior was a kaleidoscope of chaos—colors bled into shapes, gravity flipped, and whispers clawed at Sora’s mind. He gripped his Relic Gauntlet, its crack leaking sparks that stung his arm. Kalia led her freed clan, their storm-Threads flickering as they leaned on each other. Toren tossed vials to steady their mana, muttering about “lousy odds.” Vynne scouted ahead, her wings slicing through the rift’s haze, bow taut.

Sora’s vision from the gauntlet lingered: Valthera’s core, a machine pulsing like a heart, tied to him. The voice—“You unmake us”—echoed, cold and certain. He shook it off, focusing on Kalia’s clan. “We need an exit,” he called. “This place is messing with my head.”

Kalia nodded, her blades sparking. “There’s a storm-vein ahead. It might lead out.”

Vynne swooped back, her feathers ruffled. “Bad news. Voidsingers are sealing the vein. They’ve got a riftbeast—big, ugly, lots of teeth.”

Toren groaned, mixing a vial. “Why’s it always beasts?”

Sora flexed his gauntlet, its hum unsteady. “We fight through. No leaving anyone behind.”

The storm-vein was a tunnel of swirling clouds, lightning arcing across its walls. Voidsingers chanted at its end, their shadows weaving a barrier around a hulking riftbeast—part scorpion, part void, its tail dripping black ichor. Kalia’s clan faltered, their Threads dimming. Sora felt his gauntlet pull toward the beast, hungry.

“Plan?” Toren asked, tossing a fire-vial to Sora.

“Distraction and punch,” Sora said, grinning despite the odds. “Vynne, kite the singers. Kalia, hit the beast. Toren, juice up the clan. I’ll… improvise.”

Vynne zipped upward, arrows raining on the Voidsingers, scattering their chant. Kalia danced forward, blades weaving a storm that staggered the beast. Toren passed vials to the Zephyrs, their Threads flaring brighter. Sora ran at the beast, gauntlet blazing. It absorbed the ichor’s void-energy, but the crack widened, pain shooting through him. He gritted his teeth, reshaping the energy into a spear of light, piercing the beast’s flank.

The beast roared, swiping at Kalia. She dodged, but a Voidsinger’s shadow-bolt grazed her, dimming her Thread. Sora’s gamer instincts kicked in—no tank lets the DPS fall. He glitched the ground beneath the beast, turning it to quicksand, slowing its charge. “Kalia, fall back!” he shouted.

She didn’t. Her storm grew wilder, cracking the beast’s shell. Sora joined her, his gauntlet spitting chaotic bursts—fire, void, storm, all mixed. The beast collapsed, dissolving into rift-dust, but the Voidsingers rallied, their barrier tightening.

Toren lobbed a mega-vial, blasting a hole in the barrier. “Go!” he yelled. Sora led the charge, gauntlet shielding the clan as they broke through. The storm-vein spat them onto a floating isle, the Voidspire crumbling behind. Kalia’s clan gasped, safe but weak. She hugged Sora, her voice rough. “You didn’t screw it up.”

He laughed, wincing as his gauntlet sparked. “Yet.”

Vynne landed, pointing north. “Rift’s stable, but I saw a glow—another Relic, maybe. Could explain your gauntlet.”

Sora’s heart sank. The voice, the machine—he wasn’t done. “Then we keep moving.”

As they set off, the gauntlet pulsed, showing a flicker: his old apartment, the headset sparking. “Why me?” he muttered, but Kalia’s nod kept him grounded. Valthera wasn’t home, but it was his fight.

Chapter 4: Heart of the Rift

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