Location: Crimson Petal Dominion – Inner Gravecoil, The Bone Gardens
Time: [Bloodmist Level: Dense / Driftlink Proximity: Stable]
The trail of runes led them deeper into the garden, where the bone-trees grew so tightly together they formed a cathedral of silence. Everything here was older. Still. Ornate.
At the center of it all stood a single obsidian spike, wrapped in bone-ribbons and rust-colored threads. Glyphs shimmered across its surface in no known order — like a language that had forgotten how to be read.
At its base, someone sat.
Not kneeling. Not praying.
Waiting.
They were clad in robes so faded they had no color left — just dust, thread, and time. Their hair was white, skin pale as ivory, and their eyes… empty. Not blind. Just done looking.
The mist curled away from them. Even the bone-flowers bowed.
REN (quietly):
"That's gotta be them."
AETHERIUM CORE (soft ping):
markdownCopyEdit> MEMORY LINK: SERAVAL DETECTED > STATUS: Undead Echo – Soul-Woven > THREAT LEVEL: Minimal (But Uh… Don't Be Rude)
Ren stepped forward slowly.
REN:
"Seraval the Nameless?"
The figure stirred.
Lifted their head.
Voice soft. Genderless. A tone older than bloodlines:
SERAVAL:
"I had names.
But too many.
Too often."
Their head tilted slightly, watching Ren like he was a long-lost book.
SERAVAL:
"You carry one now.
But not yours.
A name borrowed from collapse."
REN (brows twitching):
"…Yeah, I get that a lot."
SNARKSTEEL (in his head):
"Gonna be honest, Riftboy… they sound like a poetry contest that died of loneliness."
Seraval stood, moving like parchment in wind.
SERAVAL:
"You are Riftborn.
Not by creation… but by correction."
They reached out — not touching him, but aligning fingers to his core like tuning a frequency.
SERAVAL:
"You're not the first to carry that weight.
But you might be the last to choose it."
REN:
"Do you know where he is?
The other me?"
SERAVAL (closing their eyes):
"He passed here.
Long ago.
But he was not whole.
He wore no Core.
Only a scar of it."
FROST (in his head):
"They saw him?!"
REN (stepping forward):
"Where did he go?"
Seraval's lips curled slightly — not a smile. A memory.
SERAVAL:
"He spoke of the Silence.
The edge between Drift and Breach.
He walked toward the Rupture.
Where coordinates dissolve."
Ren felt the breath leave him.
The Outer Drift Rupture — the last location with no coordinates. No gates. No maps.
BLAZE:
"That's suicide. It's where the Verge ends."
TIME (mock-serious):
"Or where gods leave their voicemails."
Seraval raised a hand. Their palm opened.
Inside, a fragment. A sliver of glyph-stone. Vibrating with old authority.
SERAVAL:
"I give you what he left behind."
They placed it in Ren's hand — it sank into his palm like water into dry soil.
SYSTEM UPDATE – GLYPH UNLOCKED
🌀 NAME: [INHERITED REMNANT – SERAVAL]
TRAIT: "Remembers what you forget."
ABILITY: Echo Trigger – Rewinds 4 seconds of memory in a 5m radius
STATUS: Bound to Ren – Sync: 100%
REN (looking up):
"Why help me?"
Seraval's voice dropped.
SERAVAL:
"Because he asked me to.
Because you are unfinished.
And because if you don't find him—
He'll become something else."
Their body began to unravel into bone-petals and mist.
Their final words echoed through the trees:
SERAVAL (fading):
"Riftborn aren't born.
They're split.
And the longer you're apart…
The less human you both remain."
Silence.
Again.
Heavy. Ancient. Uncomfortable.
REN (after a long pause):
"…Cool. So we're in a race against identity death. No pressure."
SNARKSTEEL:
"You say that like we weren't already juggling timelines, trauma, and family drama."
GRAVITY (quietly):
"The Outer Drift Rupture awaits."