Chapter 15: History of the Brood

The towering silhouette of Angel Tower loomed before the party, its ancient stone bathed in the dying light of the afternoon twilight. A heavy silence settled over them as Ryu and Nina stared up at the monolithic structure, memories surfacing like ghosts. The last time Ryu had entered, Garr had emerged battered and broken—while Ryu himself had vanished for years. Now, they stood at its threshold once more, but this time, they would not be separated.

Garr turned to address them, his expression unusually solemn. "Nina, Rei, I—"

Before he could finish, Nina stepped forward, eyes blazing with determination. "Oh no, Garr. Not this time! I don't care about your stupid rules about Angel Tower. Last time, Ryu disappeared for years. If you go in, so do we."

Garr exhaled sharply, crossing his arms. He hadn't been about to stop them—only to warn them. What they were about to learn could change everything. It might shake their trust in him, in his purpose, in the very path they walked. But if they refused to listen, if they were determined to face the truth no matter the cost… so be it. He gave a small nod, stepping aside to let them pass. They would learn the truth soon enough.

Instead of leading the party toward the entrance of Angel Tower, Garr veered off course, guiding them behind the massive pyramid to a secluded clearing. The air was still, the only sound the whisper of shifting sand beneath their feet. Without a word, Garr knelt and began brushing away layers of sand that had settled over the centuries. Slowly, a hidden steel door was revealed beneath the sands of time.

With a grunt, Garr grabbed the massive steel ring and pulled with all his might. The hinges groaned in protest, rust grinding against rust, but with one final pull, the door creaked open, revealing a passage leading deep underground. A faint, cold draft seeped from the darkness below, sending a shiver down Nina's spine.

One by one, they descended, the air growing cooler as they moved further beneath the earth. The dim glow of Chrysm crystals illuminated the chamber below, casting eerie, pulsating light upon the room's contents. There, at the heart of the chamber, lay a woman—naked and seemingly asleep upon a stone bed. A delicate pyramid of shimmering light encased her, pulsing faintly like a heartbeat.

Ryu and the others hesitated, exchanging uncertain glances, but Garr stepped forward with purpose. His gaze was fixed on the strange mechanical device beside her, its surface layered with dust yet still intact. Without hesitation, he withdrew the key given to him by Gaist, fitting it into a slot before pressing a series of buttons. The machine whirred to life, ancient mechanisms stirring from their slumber. The room trembled as the light surrounding the woman flickered and then shattered, the seal finally broken.

The moment the seal shattered, the woman stirred, her eyes fluttering open as she took her first breath of freedom in centuries. Slowly, she rose from the stone bed, her bare feet meeting the cold floor. Her long blue hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing a striking face filled with both wisdom and confusion.

Ryu swallowed hard, his face instantly turning crimson. Rei, trying to be respectful, quickly averted his eyes, while Nina, scowling, swiftly covered Ryu's. "Don't stare!" she hissed.

The woman, completely unfazed by their reactions, turned her gaze to Garr. "Come closer," she commanded.

Garr hesitated for only a moment before stepping forward. "Deis, I—"

Before Garr could finish speaking, Deis's fist drove into his gut with a bone-rattling impact. The sheer force sent a sharp gust rippling through the chamber, scattering loose dust and making the Chrysm flicker. Garr doubled over, clutching his stomach, a strangled grunt escaping his throat.

But Deis wasn't finished. With startling speed—and a surprising lack of mercy—she descended upon him in a whirlwind of blows. Her knuckles cracked against his skull, her elbow slammed into his ribs, and she even punctuated the assault with a sharp kick to his shin. The barrage was so relentless it bordered on absurd, her movements equal parts comical and devastating.

The rest of the party could only watch, wide-eyed, their heads whipping back and forth as if they were spectators at some chaotic tavern brawl.

"Is she… winning?" Rei muttered, blinking in disbelief.

"Garr isn't even fighting back," Nina answered, her voice a mix of shock and pity as she continued to follow the spectacle.

After several punishing moments, Garr was sent sprawling across the stone floor, his massive frame crashing down with a thunderous thud. Dust rose in a choking cloud, and for a heartbeat, the chamber was silent—until Deis exhaled in exasperation, striding forward with predatory grace.

With one fluid motion, she seized Garr by the throat and hoisted him into the air as if he were nothing more than a child's doll. Her fingers tightened around his neck, her eyes flashing with venomous fury.

"It's been a long time, Garr," she growled, her voice dripping with contempt. "You and your fellow Guardians saw fit to lock me away for who knows how long. You're lucky we Endless cannot die—otherwise I'd be ripping the last breath from your lungs right now!"

Her grip constricted, the sound of Garr's strained gasps filling the chamber. Yet her expression softened, curiosity flickering in her eyes as her tone shifted. "But I am more curious than mad. Tell me—why did you release me?"

Garr, struggling for air, slowly lifted one trembling hand and pointed toward Ryu.

Deis turned her head, following the gesture. Her gaze fell on Ryu, her lips curling into a sly, amused smile. "Him?" she mused aloud, tilting her head with feigned innocence.

Then, without ceremony, she tossed Garr over her shoulder. His massive body hit the stone floor with a resounding crash, a low groan of pain rumbling from his chest. Deis barely spared him another glance as she sauntered closer to Ryu, her expression equal parts intrigue and menace.

Deis approached Ryu, her piercing gaze locking onto him as she took a slow, deliberate step forward. "Well now," she purred, "let's see what makes you so special."

Deis narrowed her eyes as she studied Ryu, tilting her head curiously. His body language stifled Deis as she tries to look deep into his soul—his stiff posture, the way his gaze was stubbornly fixed on the farthest possible point away from her, and, most telling of all, the unmistakable flush spreading across his cheeks.

"What's got you so uncomfortable?" she asked, a disappointed frown forming on her lips. Ryu didn't answer, but the way his ears burned red was answer enough. Deis glanced downward and immediately understood the problem.

"Ohhh," she drawled, sticking out her tongue playfully. "Right. Guess I should do something about that."

With a casual flick of her wrist, a staff shimmered into existence, its polished surface humming with arcane energy. The chamber seemed to bend around its presence, shadows dancing along the walls as if the air itself recognized its master. Deis raised the staff high with effortless grace, and immediately a surge of radiant magic swirled around her body.

The light gathered like molten silk, coiling and weaving with deliberate elegance. Threads of brilliance shaped themselves into rich, flowing fabric that cascaded over her upper body, shimmering with impossible hues—garments not stitched by mortal hands, but conjured from raw power.

Then the transformation deepened. Her legs dissolved into light, reforming into a long, sinuous serpent's tail that unfurled across the floor with a commanding hiss. Scales glistened like polished emerald and sapphire, catching the glow of the staff's power as her body rose higher, elevating her until she towered tall and regal, a figure both divine and terrifying.

Deis arched her back, stretching her arms languidly over her head. The motion was elegant, sensual, and dangerous all at once. A satisfied sigh slipped from her lips as she rolled her shoulders, the crackle of magic still lingering in the air.

"Much better," she purred, her gaze dropping to admire her newly formed attire before lowering herself back to Ryu. A teasing grin curved her lips, equal parts mischief and provocation. "You can look now."

Everyone let out a collective sigh of relief, tension melting away now that Deis was finally clothed and no longer pummeling Garr into the ground. But just as things seemed to settle, Deis turned her sharp gaze back to Ryu, her eyes narrowing with curiosity. She slithered closer, her keen senses drinking in his presence. Then, suddenly, she let out an exaggerated gasp.

"Well, well… What do we have here?" Her lips curled into a mischievous grin. "A member of the Brood Clan! How fascinating." Her expression quickly shifted to one of shock as she took a closer look, her hands flying to her hips. "Hold on a second—no way! You're not just any dragon… You carry the Kaiser Gene!"

She spun to face Garr, who was still limping toward them, clutching his ribs. "Alright, big guy—what's the meaning of this?"

Garr exhaled, his exhaustion evident. "He is destined to face Myria," he said simply. "And he has many questions for you."

Deis tapped a finger against her chin, considering his words. "Is that so?" she mused before flashing a playful smirk. "Well, I don't feel like answering them here. This place is stuffy, and I prefer a little ambiance."

Without warning, she twirled her staff in a graceful arc, and before anyone could react, the world around them dissolved into swirling energy. In an instant, the entire party vanished from Angel Tower. The moment they reappeared, Nina stumbled slightly, catching herself before looking around in confusion. Darkness stretched in every direction, the air thick with an unfamiliar warmth. It was as if the chamber had no walls, no ceiling—just an endless void surrounding them.

"Where are we?" Nina asked, her voice uneasy.

Deis grinned, spreading her arms wide. "Welcome to my temple, hidden deep within Mount Zublo!" she declared. "Feels good to be home!"

Deis turned to Ryu, her serpentine tail coiling beneath her as she leaned forward with a smirk. "Alright, dragon boy—what is it you want to know?"

Ryu met her gaze without hesitation. "Tell me about the Brood."

Deis let out a long, dramatic sigh. "Ah, so you want to know about your race, The Brood… I should have guessed. Garr wouldn't have brought you to me if that wasn't the case." She twirled her staff idly before tapping it against the ground. "So, you want to know about your kind? Well, it's a long story—but I suppose we've got time."

With a casual flick of her wrist, she waved her staff. The endless void around them shimmered, the darkness giving way to a breathtaking expanse of stars. A vast cosmos stretched before them, swirling galaxies and nebulae painted across the sky like an artist's masterpiece. A comet streaked past, leaving behind a luminous trail. The party stood in awe, their eyes wide as they gazed at the celestial spectacle.

Deis took a deep breath and began, her voice rich with the weight of ages. "Long ago, before recorded history, an Endless who calls himself Ladon journeyed from the Farplane. He traveled through the void for what seemed like an eternity, seeking something—a place where life could thrive. And at last, he found it right here in this planet."

Her gaze grew distant, as if she could see it all unfolding before her. "But what he discovered disappointed him. The world was teeming with life, yes—but it was simple, primitive, unintelligent. It lacked the spark, the potential he had hoped for."

She paused for effect, letting the stars around them pulse faintly. Then, with a knowing smile, she continued. "And so, Ladon did what only mortals would call a god could do… He gave them a gift."

With a graceful wave of her hand, the celestial landscape shifted. The stars melted away, replaced by a lush, verdant world centered around a colossal tree. Its towering branches stretched toward the heavens, its massive roots burrowing deep into the earth. Beneath its sprawling canopy, creatures of all kinds gathered, feasting upon its luminous fruit. Ryu recognized that tree, the same one he and Nina shared their first kiss in front of.

"This," Deis declared, gesturing to the majestic sight before them, "is Yggdrasil, the Tree of Knowledge. Ladon planted it as a gift to the world—a means for life to evolve beyond its primal state."

As they watched, the creatures devouring the fruit began to change. Their movements became more deliberate, their eyes gleaming with newfound intelligence. They stood upright, their forms shifting as they took their first steps toward civilization.

"In time, the creatures of this world began to think, to reason. They formed clans, built homes, and shaped their own societies. The canines became the Windrunners, swift and cunning. The felines evolved into the fierce Warrens, masters of the hunt. The primates became the Highlanders, strong and proud. The sapiens—well, they became humans, and so on."

The image around them darkened as Deis sighed, shaking her head. "But knowledge, as it often is, was misused. The clans grew ambitious, their hunger for power insatiable. Wars erupted, lands were scorched, and the world that once thrived under Ladon's blessing teetered on the brink of ruin."

Her voice hardened as she continued, "Ladon could not stand by and watch the world destroy itself. And so, he created the first of the Endless not native to the Farplane—beings of immense wisdom and power. Beings meant to guide and protect."

The swirling vision of war and chaos faded, replaced by the image of a mighty dragon with wings outstretched, its form radiating an almost divine presence. "The dragons, though people refered them as gods at the time," Deis said, her voice reverent, "were his answer."

Deis waved her staff once more, and the image shifted to six magnificent people, each radiating a divine aura. Their homonid forms were gentle and caring, while their beast forms were immense and loomed over vast landscapes—each ruling over a domain of their own.

"To bring order to the world, Ladon created six dragon Endless," Deis continued. "Ch'o Ryong, the dragon of the plains, whose roar could shake the earth itself. Hae Ryong, the dragon of the oceans, who ruled the tides and commanded the depths. No Ryong, the dragon of the mud, whose dominion lay in the marshes and rivers that fed the land. P'ung Ryong, the dragon of the winds, a force of nature swift and untamed. Sa Ryong, the dragon of the sands, whose power turned the desert into both cradle and grave. And finally, Su Ryong, the dragon of the trees, the guardian of nature's endless cycle."

The scene before them unfolded, showing the six dragons watching over the world, guiding the clans with wisdom and strength. Under their rule, civilization flourished. Wars ceased, and harmony was restored.

"For thousands of years, peace reigned," Deis said, her voice momentarily filled with admiration. "The clans thrived under the watchful eyes of the dragons, and Ladon's vision for the world seemed realized."

But then, the serene vision darkened. A shadow loomed over the land, and the peaceful world began to crack. "But peace never lasts forever," Deis murmured, her tone growing grave. "For among the many clans, there was one that evolved beyond the rest. A clan that would grow strong enough, ambitious enough, to challenge Ladon himself for his throne." The stars above flickered like dying embers, and a new figure emerged in the vision—one that would change the fate of the world forever.

Deis waved her staff again, and the image shifted. The peaceful lands were replaced by towering cities, their spires piercing the sky like jagged teeth. The hum of machines filled the air as Windrunners moved mechanically through the streets, their once-primal instincts replaced by cold, calculated efficiency.

"The Windrunners," Deis continued, her voice tinged with both awe and disappointment, "became far too intelligent for their own good. Their mastery of technology surpassed all others, and soon, they no longer relied on nature. Instead, they built machines to do their work, to labor in their fields, to fight their battles. But they did not stop there."

The image darkened, shifting to underground laboratories where eerie, pulsating lights flickered against steel walls. Strange creatures stirred in vats of liquid, their twisted forms writhing as if in pain. "In their arrogance, the Windrunners sought to create life itself. But what they birthed were not holy beings… but abominations," Deis said grimly. "Creatures of malformed flesh, fueled by hatred and malice. Demons. At first, they were little more than failed experiments, cast aside as mistakes. But they were alive… and they multiplied."

The vision twisted into chaos—swarms of monstrous beings crawling out from the depths, spreading like a plague across the land. Villages burned, forests withered, and terror swept across the world.

"The demons escaped their labs, overpopulated, and plunged the world into chaos. But the Windrunners did not care. They abandoned their own creations, and turned their gaze to something far greater. Their true goal was not to fix their mistakes… but to challenge the dragons themselves."

The image sharpened, revealing a colossal machine, unlike anything the world had ever seen. It stood in the heart of the Windrunner capital, its core pulsating with an unnatural, ominous light. "They sought to create their own Endless," Deis whispered. "A dragon of pure power, forged from technology and knowledge. A creation strong enough to overthrow Ladon himself."

Deis twirled her staff, and the vision shifted once more. The massive machine, once the pinnacle of Windrunner ingenuity, stood silent and lifeless upon its summoning stage. The Windrunners gathered around, their faces twisted in frustration and disbelief.

"When they attempted to create their first Endless, the Windrunners thought they had failed," Deis explained, her voice laced with amusement. "They expected a dragon to rise before them, a powerful being of their own design. But when nothing appeared, they dismissed their experiment as a failure."

The image zoomed outward, revealing something the Windrunners could not see. A formless presence drifted from the machine, unseen, unheard, yet very much alive. "But they were wrong," Deis said with a smirk. "An Endless was born that day. She had no body, no form—only a spirit, a consciousness that roamed the land, seeking something… someone… to anchor her to this world."

The vision followed the unseen entity as it drifted aimlessly, passing over forests, rivers, and villages, until it finally stopped before a rusted, forgotten machine—a battered, dysfunctional construct left to decay. The moment the spirit touched it, the machine trembled, gears grinding to life, a single glowing eye flickering open.

"That machine was called Ershin," Deis continued, a playful grin on her lips. "And the spirit that took possession of it… was me. Ershin was the first and only machine to become sentient thanks to the power of the Endless." The scene around them dissolved, leaving only Deis standing before them, hands on her hips, her serpentine tail coiling lazily behind her.

"I walked the land inside that clunky old shell for centuries, working alongside the clans, waiting… searching for the perfect body to call my own. And now—" she gestured dramatically at herself "—well, you can see how that turned out." She gave them a wink, clearly pleased with her own story, while the party stared at her in stunned silence.

With a graceful wave of her staff, Deis conjured a vision that shimmered into existence before the party's eyes. A magnificent city—once thriving with towering spires and intricate machinery—lay in smoldering ruin. Fires raged across its streets, smoke coiling into the heavens like the breath of a dying beast. Amidst the devastation stood a lone figure, his presence eclipsing even the destruction around him. A warrior, tall and imposing, with flowing silver hair that shimmered like liquid moonlight. His very aura crackled with an energy so overwhelming it seemed to bend reality itself. His piercing gaze, both serene and terrifying, swept over the fallen kingdom with neither regret nor remorse.

"Years later, after refining their technology, the Windrunners finally succeeded," Deis said, her voice carrying a tone of bitter amusement. "They managed to create a 'proper' Endless, one that could rival Ladon himself. A being of immeasurable power."

The silver-haired warrior raised his hand, fingers curling with deliberate grace as golden light flared to life in his palm. The radiance twisted, elongating, until it sharpened into a blade of pure energy—a weapon forged from divine wrath itself. With a single sweep, the blade carved through flesh and stone alike, erasing all who dared stand before him. Screams were silenced in an instant. The once-proud kingdom of the Windrunners shuddered under his presence, its towers crumbling as though the very world recoiled in terror. Every gesture he made was a death sentence, every step a herald of annihilation.

"They called him Fou-Lu. The Yorae Dragon. But history remembers him by another name—'God-Killer.'"

The party watched as the vision shifted, revealing Fou-Lu's massive, awe-inspiring Kaiser Dragon form. Its golden scales gleamed like a divine sun, and its mere presence sent shockwaves rippling through the earth. The Windrunners, the very architects of his creation, had no hope of containing the force they had unleashed.

"They thought they could control him. But power like his does not bend to the will of mortals. His Kaiser form was beyond anything they could comprehend, untamed and absolute."

The vision darkened as the last remnants of the Windrunner kingdom crumbled into dust beneath the dragon's might. "Their empire crumbled in mere moments, reduced to smoldering ruins beneath Fou-Lu's unrelenting power. But he did not let it remain in ruin. No, he claimed the shattered kingdom as his own, rising from the ashes as its unchallenged ruler. Thus, the Fou Imperial Empire was born."

The vision shifted, revealing a kingdom reborn not through hope, but through subjugation. Towering citadels of dark stone loomed over the land, their spires piercing the heavens like jagged fangs. The Windrunners, once pioneers of innovation, became laborers under their new emperor's rule, forced to rebuild their destroyed civilization—not for themselves, but for him.

"Fou-Lu was no mere ruler," Deis continued, her voice heavy with both awe and dismay. "He was a god among mortals, an emperor whose reign stretched for four hundred years. To some, he was a savior, a being of divine wisdom who brought order to chaos. To others, he was a tyrant, a force so absolute that no king, no warlord, no nation dared to oppose him."

The illusion rippled, shifting to an army clad in ornate armor, banners of the Yorae Dragon flying high as they marched in perfect unison. Fou-Lu sat upon a grand throne at the heart of his empire, his green eyes cold and calculating, his very presence exuding absolute dominance.

"For centuries, his rule was unchallenged. His word was law, his will unbreakable. The Windrunners belonged to Fou-Lu." Deis twirled her staff, and the scene faded, replaced with a single, haunting image—Fou-Lu, eyes closed, arms crossed, lying in deep slumber beneath an ancient temple.

"But even he was not without weakness," she mused. "His power was incomplete. And so, he withdrew, sealing himself away in his temple… waiting, resting, for hundreds of years."

The vision disappeared, leaving only silence. The weight of Deis's words lingered in the air as the party processed the tale of the fallen kingdom and the god-like being who had shattered it.

With a wave of her hand, Deis summoned another vision—one of twisted ambition and reckless desperation. Before the party, a massive structure materialized, towering ominously against a storm-ridden sky. Its dark metallic frame pulsed with an eerie, crimson glow, its very presence exuding malice.

"This," Deis said grimly, "was the Windrunners' greatest sin."

The image shifted, revealing frantic engineers and scholars, their fur bristling with both fear and determination as they worked tirelessly on the weapon. A colossal cannon, vast as a fortress, aimed toward the heavens—a machine designed not for conquest, but for execution.

"The Windrunners sought to reclaim their kingdom, to rid themselves of the emperor they had created. But to kill a god, they needed something beyond steel and fire. They needed a weapon of pure suffering."

Her voice darkened, and with another wave, the vision changed. Ghostly figures—men, women, even children—stood in rows, their faces twisted in sorrow, despair, and rage. Their bodies flickered like dying embers, dissolving into the crimson energy that fed the cannon's core.

"The weapon required a fuel no ordinary fire could provide," Deis continued. "Negative emotions—fear, hatred, agony, and despair. They sacrificed the suffering, those who had lost everything, who had been abandoned, tortured, broken. Their anguish became raw power, condensed into a blast meant to erase Fou-Lu from existence. But it was not enough."

The vision shifted again, revealing desperate eyes filled with both madness and hope. A figure appeared—young, delicate, her pure wings torn and stained with sorrow. A princess, bound in cruel chains, her breath shallow as scholars and priests chanted around her. "So they turned to an innocent." Nina gasped, stepping forward as if she could stop what had already been done.

"Princess Elena of Windia," Deis confirmed. "They forced her to become an Endless, not out of reverence, but so they could torment her. Years of suffering, of torture, of isolation—all to cultivate the purest level of despair, the strongest hatred, the most potent fear. They needed her emotions to be strong enough to break the heavens themselves. That," she said softly, "is the weight of their sin."

Once again, Deis waved her hand, and the darkness around them shifted into a new vision. A young Windian princess, delicate but determined. A sturdy Warren warrior, his gaze sharp with resolve. And standing between them, a blue-haired swordsman, his presence almost otherworldly. The images flickered like memories woven into the fabric of time.

"Windia did not abandon their princess," Deis began. "A search party was sent to find and rescue Elena—her younger sister, her betrothed, and a warrior unlike any other. But this warrior… he was no ordinary person."

The vision changed, showing the blue-haired warrior standing before a towering beast—a dragon whose aura rivaled even that of the feared emperor. His body shimmered with untapped power, his form flickering between man and dragon.

"They soon uncovered the truth: their companion was not just any warrior. He carried the Infinity Gene, the very essence of limitless potential. He was Fou-Lu's other half, created to complete the Yorae Dragon."

The image shifted again—battles raged, mountains crumbled, the sky split apart as the two dragons clashed. The warrior, now in his dragon form, fought against Fou-Lu's Kaiser form with everything he had. And yet, it was not hatred that decided the battle, but understanding.

"In the end, they could not simply destroy Fou-Lu. Instead, once Fou-Lu was defeated, the two halves of the Yorae Dragon became whole, merging into a single, true Endless. A being with immeasurable power and the limitless potential of immortality."

A divine light enveloped the scene, and the silhouette of a being beyond mortal comprehension stood before them. The party could feel the sheer magnitude of its presence—even within a memory, it was overwhelming. But then, the light dimmed, and the figure faded. "But that warrior did not crave divinity," Deis continued. "He rejected the burden of godhood and, with his newfound power, did the unthinkable. He stripped himself and the other dragons of their immortality, turning them into mortals. And together, they formed a new clan, one that could choose its own destiny."

With a graceful sweep of her hand, the vision shifted once more. The fractured images of war and ruin dissolved, replaced by a vast and radiant landscape untouched by bloodshed. Rolling hills stretched to the horizon, golden fields swayed in the wind, and rivers sparkled like ribbons of silver beneath a gentle sun. And in that peace, dragons thrived—majestic beings of every size, some soaring high above the clouds while others rested in the valleys, basking in warmth.

"And so," Deis said softly, almost reverently, "The Brood was born."

The vision drew closer, revealing that the Brood, though descended from dragons, chose to live as ordinary men and women. Their wings folded, their scales hidden, they walked among one another as people—neighbors, friends, families. They traded goods in bustling markets filled with laughter, the scent of bread and fruit filling the air. Blacksmiths forged tools and weapons, not for war, but for craft, the ringing of their hammers a rhythm of progress rather than bloodshed. Children darted through the streets, their bright eyes gleaming with curiosity and promise, their play echoing like music across the stone walls of the villages.

"The Brood were not rulers, nor conquerors. They were companions to the world. They formed bonds with other clans and races, offering wisdom, protection, and friendship. Marriages joined their people with outsiders, love blossoming across the lines of blood and origin. Feasts were held beneath the stars, with songs of joy sung in voices both human and draconic, their harmony carrying far into the night. Their strength was not in fire or steel, but in kinship—the unshakable bonds that tied them to one another and to the earth itself."

For a moment, it seemed as though this was paradise. A glimpse of what the world could have been. "However…" Deis's voice cut through the warmth like a blade, her tone darkening. The images began to tremble, cracks spidering through the idyllic vision as shadows bled in from the edges. "The age of demons was far from over. In truth…" Her golden eyes narrowed, glinting with foreboding. "…it was only just beginning."

The swirling visions convulsed back to the time before The Brood, colors bleeding into one another before solidifying into a scene of unrelenting devastation. The world before them was broken—cities reduced to crumbled ruins, their stone walls jutting from the earth like the bones of a dead giant. Rivers boiled and ran red with fire, molten streams tearing through the land as if the world itself bled. Smoke choked the skies, blotting out the sun until only a dim, sickly glow remained.

And in the midst of it all—Elena, or what was left of her. Her frail body lay twisted upon the bed where she was bound to. Her organs filled the tower she was locked in, her skin pale and bruised, her eyes hollow with torment no words could capture. Every breath she drew rattled in her chest like a dying ember struggling to hold on.

Deis's voice wove through the vision, low and somber. "By the time they found her, Elena was barely clinging to existence. The torment she endured had broken her—body and soul. To end her suffering, the Windian smiths forged a sacred blade, a mercy of steel and prayer, and with it, they released her from her chains."

For a fleeting instant, the ruin fell away, replaced by silence. Elena's face softened, bathed in pale light, her features finally at peace as her soul slipped free. She smiled faintly—an echo of the girl she once was—before dissolving into nothingness.

But that peace did not last. After the search party left, a new demon was taking shape. A wet, sickening sound tore through the vision—like bones splintering, muscles twisting, flesh knitting into shapes that should not exist. The air itself recoiled, heavy with the stench of rot and venom. From the abyss, shadows writhed and folded inward, coalescing into something monstrous.

Deis's words dropped to a whisper. "The Endless inside her could not die. The seed of evil, nourished by years of torment and malice, took a new form."

From the darkness rose a grotesque abomination. Its body pulsed with writhing, unnatural movement, skin tearing and healing in endless cycles. Its lower half was a nest of slithering serpents, their scales hissing as they twisted and snapped, while its upper form loomed tall and skeletal, its arms elongated into claws that dripped with bile. Its face—if it could be called that—was a cavernous maw of jagged fangs, green venom spilling down in streams that sizzled where they touched the ground. Its very presence was a curse, a blight upon the world, as though reality itself strained to hold it.

And yet, as suddenly as it appeared, the horror melted away. The serpents, the bile, the gnashing fangs—all gone. In their place stood the fragile figure of a girl no older than ten, her eyes wide, her smile soft and guileless. Innocence painted across her face. The image of a monster, hidden behind the mask of a child.

"To walk among mortals without inspiring terror, she crafted a disguise—a child with wide, unassuming eyes and a gentle smile." The girl tilted her head, her lips curling into a knowing smirk. "She called herself Tyr, the goddess of destruction and desire."

The visions darkened further, shifting to battlefields covered in blood, kings and warlords cutting each other down with ruthless ambition. "Tyr did not seek destruction directly. She did not need to." Deis's voice grew bitter. "Instead, she whispered promises into the ears of mortals. She offered a single wish to any who desired it. Wealth, power, immortality—there was no limit to what she could grant. But only one person could claim it."

The visions showed rulers, warriors, entire nations succumbing to madness. "And so, the world fell into chaos once again after centuries of peace. Wars ignited, each bloodier than the last, as men and kingdoms fought to claim the goddess's favor. Entire civilizations crumbled, not by her hands, but by their own greed."

Deis exhaled, the sound heavy with centuries of memory, and pressed the base of her staff against the stone floor. A ripple of power coursed outward, scattering the last remnants of the vision into dust. Shadows receded, and silence hung in the chamber like a suffocating veil.

"And that," she said at last, her voice both sharp and weary, "was the birth of true despair."

Her gaze swept over the party—Ryu, Nina, Rei, and Garr—as though weighing whether they could bear what came next. Then, with a slow turn, she lifted her staff once more. "To end that suffering, the Brood and tye many clans gathered as one. For the first time, we united against a single enemy: Tyr."

The air shimmered, and a new vision tore into being before their eyes. A battlefield stretched across endless horizons, drowned in fire and shadow. Dragons filled the skies, wings blotting out the heavens as titanic forms clashed with waves of darkness that surged like a living tide. Their roars shook the earth, the clash of claw and flame against unholy power ringing like the song of an ending world.

"Among them was a maiden of great strength and wisdom," Deis said softly, her tone touched with reverence. "A dragon maiden named Bleu. She was beautiful, stubborn, and braver than any of us. But in order for me to fight, she made the ultimate sacrifice—offering her body to me so I might shed the metal husk I once bore, and fight at the side of the people as flesh and blood."

The vision shifted. Bleu's image appeared—her eyes calm, her expression resolute—as her form dissolved into light. From that light rose Deis herself, no longer bound in cold metal, but as a regal sorceress, her serpent's tail coiling elegantly across the battlefield. She lifted her staff high, unleashing torrents of devastating magic that split the skies and turned the tide of war.

"With all that we were, with everything we had, we struck Tyr down," Deis said, her voice growing fierce. "We chained her, body and soul, binding her in a prison beyond mortal reach." The image twisted again, showing six radiant lights streaking across the world. One by one they disappeared into the lands of men, hidden deep within the clans. "But even then, we knew," Deis continued, her tone softening to a bitter edge, "that Endless cannot be killed, and one lock would never be enough. So we forged six keys. Six guardians of the seal, each entrusted to individual clans, ensuring that no single hand could ever unmake what we had done."

The vision flickered and died. Only silence remained, pressing in around them. Deis lowered her staff, folding her arms with a weary huff. "Unfortunately," she said, her voice laced with disdain, "that was not the end of our troubles." The vision shifted once more, revealing humans standing before Tyr's sealed prison, their expressions twisted with envy.

"You see, humans had always resented the other clans. They had no special abilities—no wings to soar, no claws to rend, no magic in their blood. And Tyr, even in her prison, knew how to exploit that bitterness." Dark energy seeped from the vision, warping the humans' forms until they became monstrous beings, their eyes burning with newfound power. "From within her seal, she whispered promises of strength, twisting their very souls. She granted several humans demonic powers, allowing them to transform into fearsome creatures beyond anything the world had seen."

The scene shifted again, showing these transformed warriors standing against dragons—former allies, now enemies. "The humans who accepted her power turned against their own kind, sparking a terrible conflict that shattered the unity of the Brood. Jade, a seasoned human general divided The Brood and served Zog, a Brood General who despised the Dragon Maiden. The dragons split into two factions: the Light Dragons, who sought peace, and the Dark Dragons, who embraced their power to carve out an empire of their own."

Now, the vision depicted war once more—dragons fighting dragons, fire and magic lighting up the battlefield. "To prove their loyalty to humanity, the Light Dragons made a devastating choice—they willingly sealed away their ability to transform, forsaking their birthright to bring an end to the war." The vision of the Light Dragons faded, leaving only the Dark Dragons, standing triumphant over the battlefield. "But the Dark Dragons? They refused to relinquish their power. They sought domination, ruling through strength and fear. And with their newfound might, they waged war against their own kin."

Deis's voice grew heavy, her tone sinking into something grim as the vision changed once more. Before the party's eyes, the swirling light coalesced into a haunting image: a maiden bound in chains, her once-radiant wings broken and her body marked with cruel wounds. Her eyes, though dimmed by suffering, still carried the fire of defiance. Surrounding her were warriors of the Dark Dragon Clan, their armor black as midnight, their sneering faces twisted with cruelty.

"To shatter the will of the Light Dragons," Deis said, her words like venom, "they took their most precious treasure. Their leader. Their hope. The dragon maiden, Sara." The vision lingered on her torment, her chains rattling as she knelt in silence, before fading into darkness with a sharp crack of Deis's staff. For a long moment, she said nothing, letting the silence weigh on the party like a shroud. Then, with a voice both solemn and measured, she continued.

"But Sara was not alone in this world. She had a brother—one unlike any other. He was no ordinary dragon warrior. In his blood slept the Infinity Gene, a fragment of destiny itself. Only he bore the potential to reclaim what had been lost, to seek out the missing Kaiser Gene and wield it… the one power that could stand against Tyr."

The illusions stirred again, painting a new scene across the chamber: a young dragon warrior, his face unyielding with determination, stepping beyond the safety of his home. His figure stood small against the vastness of mountains, oceans, and skies, yet the weight he carried was immense.

"With loyal companions at his side," Deis intoned, her gaze distant, as if reliving a story she had seen a thousand times, "he set forth across the world. He fought, he bled, he endured—and in the fire of his journey, he forged bonds unbreakable. Together, they uncovered truths buried in shadow, and step by step, he drew nearer to his fate."

The young warrior in the vision pressed onward, through storm and flame, until he stood before a spectral figure wreathed in ancient light. The spirit gazed upon him, not with pity, but with recognition, as though it had been waiting for this moment across countless ages. Slowly, the spirit extended its hand, pressing a burning sigil into the warrior's chest. "And at last," Deis whispered, her voice dropping into reverence, "he was chosen. The missing fragment of his soul implanted within him—the Kaiser Gene. The true and terrible power of the dragons, born anew." The image flared brilliantly, the young warrior's form engulfed in golden fire, before collapsing back into shadows. The warrior's form shifted, golden energy radiating from his body as he ascended into his true power.

"With his new strength, he stormed the heart of the Dark Dragon Empire, facing countless trials before confronting the Dark Dragon Emperor himself. Their battle shook the heavens, but in the end, the Dark Dragon Emperor Zog fell. And so did Jade and his demonic underlings."

The image of the fallen emperor faded, revealing the final obstacle—the Goddess Tyr herself, waiting in the depths of her domain. "With the power of the Kaiser Dragon, he and his allies challenged the goddess. Their clash was beyond anything the world had seen—a battle of wills, of power, of fate itself. And in the end, they emerged victorious, striking down the goddess and ending her direct influence over the world."

For a moment, the vision lingered on the fallen deity, her form dissolving into nothingness. But then, something stirred beneath the earth—a pulsing, writhing darkness.

"But even with her defeat, Tyr was never truly gone. Before her demise, she planted a seed of evil deep beneath the land, a festering corruption that even the mighty Kaiser could not erase."

Deis's expression softened into something solemn, her voice lowering as the vision unfolded once more. Dragons of every shape and color—beings who once stood divided by pride and ancient grudges—appeared in the air before the party. They marched side by side, their wings spanning the skies, their roars thundering in unison. For the first time in ages, they were not clans or rivals, but one people.

"Knowing the danger that still lingered, the Brood set aside their divisions," Deis said, her staff glowing faintly as the illusion brightened, "and they became whole once more. United, they harnessed the full strength of their kind, and with it, they bound the seed of evil—locking it away in a place where they believed it could never again poison the living world. They were wrong."

The vision shimmered, then dimmed into silence, the dragons fading like dust in the wind. What remained was emptiness, a hollow echo that left the chamber colder than before. Deis's tone hardened. "Their seal didn't last forever. Time erodes. Memory fades. And evil…" She tapped her staff against the stone floor, her voice a whisper that curled into the shadows. "…evil always finds a way to rise again."

The air twisted, darkened, and from it emerged a new figure—wreathed in shadows, its shape barely human, its eyes gleaming like burning coals.

"This was the demon born from Tyr's lingering malice. The cursed son of the fallen goddess. His name was DeathEvan." The apparition grew, unfurling tendrils of darkness that seeped into the cracks of the world around it. Deis's voice dropped to a venomous edge.

"Like his mother before him, he desired death—dominion over mortals, gods, and dragons alike. But unlike Tyr, he did not seek open war. He was clever. Patient. He learned from her failure and chose a different path. Not conquest. Not destruction. But decay and corruption."

The vision warped again, and from the blackness rose a cathedral of impossible size. Its marble spires pierced the heavens, its windows glowing with unearthly light. From within, hymns echoed faintly, a thousand voices raised in devotion.

"Through whispers, through dreams, through poisoned faith, he sowed his influence into mortal hearts. He made them believe. And with every prayer, every offering, every kneeling head bowed before false divinity… his chains loosened. His seal unraveled." The party stared, wide-eyed, as the image of the cathedral burned against the darkness, its beauty a hollow mask for the corruption festering within.

Deis raised her chin, her eyes glowing faintly with disdain. "His followers built him a grand church. A religion. Not with truth, but with lies. A faith where he alone was worshiped, and the world itself became his altar."

The image of the cathedral filled with devoted worshippers appeared, their eyes alight with false divinity as priests blessed them with radiant magic.

"This faith was known as the Church of St. Eva. Under the guise of holiness, it spread across the world, offering miracles and salvation. But behind the prayers and sermons, the truth was far more sinister." The light from the priests flickered, twisting into something unnatural. "Through this false faith, humans once again gained the ability to transform into hideous demons. But this time, they had a new weapon to deceive the world—the power to heal. Their touch could mend wounds, their words could soothe pain, and so no one questioned the true nature of their god."

Deis exhaled, shaking her head as the vision faded. "For five centuries, the Church of St. Eva grew unchecked," Deis intoned, her voice carrying the weight of history itself. "Its roots spread across kingdoms, its teachings worming their way into every heart and home. Its cathedrals rose higher than castles, its priests wielded more power than kings. And all the while, the true guardians of this world—the Brood—were erased from memory. Forgotten. Reduced to whispers and bedtime stories."

Her fingers tightened around her staff, knuckles white against the polished wood. "Even the name of Ladon, the God of Dragons, was buried beneath the tide of false faith. The people no longer prayed to him. They no longer remembered who had once kept the world safe. And so, my dear friends, the age of light faded, giving way to an age of silence, where the shadows grew bold."

She raised her chin, her eyes glinting like cold steel. "But the Brood knew. Even in hiding deep underground where they prayed for centuries, they listened, they watched. And they felt what others could not—the inevitable truth. The seal that bound DeathEvan was unraveling. His corruption bled into the world like poison in the veins, slow, subtle, but deadly all the same. Something had weakened DeathEvan's prison."

Her voice fell into a whisper, low and solemn. "And so, the Brood acted. They sent one of their own into the surface world. The Dragon Maiden, Valerie—wise, radiant, and unyielding." Deis swept her staff through the air, and shimmering light painted the vision of Valerie into being. She stood tall, her golden eyes glowing with quiet determination, her blue hair like waterfalls swaying in the wind.

"Valerie carried the hopes of her people upon her shoulders. She journeyed across the lands, seeking truth in. Her path led her to the village of Gate. A place steeped in shadows, built above the seal she had sworn to protect."

The vision shifted again, revealing a humble village at dusk. Among its people stood a priest, his face kind, his smile warm. His robes bore the symbol of St. Eva, his faith unwavering. "And there," Deis said, her tone shifting, softened by something almost like wonder, "fate intervened. Valerie met a man of faith. A priest, pure of heart, who welcomed her without question, never knowing she was one of the very dragons his god despised."

The illusion shimmered, and Valerie was shown at his side, her hand entwined with his. A simple moment, yet profound. "She was sent to observe," Deis whispered, almost to herself. "But instead, she lived. She loved. And from their union came two children—gifts of blood and destiny."

The vision grew brighter, showing the faces of two small children. A girl, her green eyes luminous with the same wisdom as her mother. And a boy, quiet yet strong, with something vast and untamed burning in his gaze.

"The daughter, Yua," Deis said softly, "was born to be the next Dragon Maiden, inheritor of her mother's sacred duty." Her gaze hardened as she turned toward Ryu. "And the son… the boy carried within him the Infinity Gene—The key to the Kaiser's power. The one destined to tip the balance of the world and defeat DeatEvan."

Deis paused, letting the weight of those words settle. "But peace was never meant to last. The demons of DeathEvan's cult had been watching, waiting for their moment to strike. They descended upon Gate, their goal clear—to shatter the seal and free their dark god. Valerie, knowing what was at stake, made the ultimate sacrifice. She used the last of her power to fortify the seal, binding DeathEvan once more… at the cost of her own life."

The image of Valerie flickered and faded, her body dissolving into golden light as the village of Gate lay standing before her her. Her massive dragon body lays in the mountain holding back the seed of evil DeathEvan.

"Her son—grief-stricken and burdened with destiny—set out on a journey that would shape the world. With the truth of St. Eva revealed, he and his band of close knit friends fought against the church's lies, unmasking the demons hiding within its holy walls. In time, he awakened the power of the Kaiser Gene, took it for himself, becoming strong enough to challenge DeathEvan."

Deis's voice grew quieter. "But just as it had been with Tyr, a demonic Endless could never be truly destroyed. DeathEvan and his dark mother were abominations of pure malice—Tyr and DeathEvan's essences would always seek rebirth, no matter how many times they were slain."

The vision shifted once more, showing the young warrior standing before a swirling vortex of darkness, his fate already decided.

"And so, to put an end to DeathEvan forever, he made the only choice he could. Like his mother, he sacrificed himself, the body of Kaiser binding DeathEvan in an eternal prison sealed by his own soul."

Deis turned back to Ryu, her expression unreadable.

"But fate is cruel," Deis whispered, her voice carrying like a lament across the chamber. "Valerie, and the children she bore, may have saved the world… but such salvation came at a cost. His sacrifice did not pass unseen."

The vision flickered, and the faint silhouette of a prison—vast, ancient, and shrouded in chains of light—materialized above them. A pulse of darkness beat within it, steady and inevitable, like a heart refusing to die.

"Tyr," Deis said, her tone dropping into a hushed growl. "The goddess born of Windian blood. She sensed her son's prison. And in her fury, she clawed her way back from oblivion, her malice reborn in flesh. Not as Tyr, but as something far more dangerous… as the goddess the world now knows—Myria."

Her staff struck the ground, a sharp crack that echoed like thunder. "The only way Myria could ever free her cursed progeny was to erase the Brood entirely. And so, she began her war—not with fire and blood, but with whispers once again as demons always know how to do well."

The chamber darkened. Shapes writhed in the vision, taking the form of mortals kneeling before altars, their faces twisted with fear.

"She seeded doubt into the hearts of the clans. She poisoned their faith. She told them that dragons were a plague—too powerful, too dangerous, too 'other' to be allowed to live. And mortals, in their ignorance, believed her."

Deis's eyes narrowed, her voice bitter. "But fear alone was not enough. Fear was meant to poison trust, but it falters eventually. Fear fades, especially when mortals couldn't do much about the dragond. So she created something worse. A force born of her own hand, weapons forged for one purpose only."

The vision shuddered, shadows pulling themselves into shape. Towering figures emerged, their bodies carved from both flesh and stone, their veins glowing with an unnatural light. Their wings spread like wildfire. Their eyes burned with endless fire—merciless, unfeeling, eternal. Deis raised her staff toward them, her voice a whisper of dread. "The Guardians."

Deis's eyes hardened, her voice ringing with the sharp finality of a death sentence.

"These were not ordinary demons. No… they were Endless—immortal beings, soldiers bound to Myria's will for all eternity. They would hunt the Brood without rest, without conscience, without mercy, until the very last dragon drew its final breath."

The air in the chamber grew colder as her staff pulsed with light, the illusion sharpening until the party could see every terrible detail. Shapes took form, monstrous yet familiar—faces chiseled into memory. Their features were clear now, no longer shadowy figures of myth but demons of flesh, branded by destiny.

Nina's hands flew to her mouth as her breath hitched. Rei stiffened, eyes widening in disbelief. The truth fell upon them like a thunderclap, leaving their hearts hollow.

Among the faceless legion of Endless, two figures stepped forward—towering, unmistakable. Garr, and Gaist.

The weight of recognition struck like a hammer. Nina's stomach turned, her wings quivering as though struck by a phantom gale. "No… it couldn't be. Not Garr." The Guardian who had fought by their side, who had sworn his loyalty, who had protected them with his very life since they were children… standing among the very executioners who had once slaughtered Ryu's kind.

Her voice cracked, barely more than a whisper. "Garr…"

The name slipped from her lips like a wound opening. Garr did not speak. His massive form remained still, his golden eyes shadowed by a guilt too heavy to name. The silence stretched, oppressive, as if the walls themselves held their breath.

Her hands clenched into fists as the truth settled in. She understood now—why Ryu had disappeared for years, why Garr had taken him to Angel Tower, why he had come back battered and broken. He had tried to kill him. Nina turned to Garr, searching his face for answers, for some kind of denial. But he said nothing. He simply stood there, silent.

"And that, my friends, is the story of the Brood," Deis declared with a dramatic sigh, stretching her arms overhead. "Whew! That was a lot of backstory to get through. I swear, I'm getting old!"

Ryu, still absorbing the weight of everything he had just learned, stepped forward. "Deis… how can I find the rest of my clan? I need to claim the Infinity Gene and put an end to Myria."

Deis placed her hands on her hips, her serpentine tail coiling slightly behind her. "Are you sure you can trust that Guardian?" She gestured toward Garr with a pointed glance. "He's a dragon killer, you know."

Ryu met her gaze without hesitation. "I know exactly what he is. But I trust him with my life. He wants to defeat the goddess just as much as the rest of us."

Deis studied him for a long moment before exhaling through her nose. "Hah… well, I suppose there's no talking you out of it. Your fate is already set in motion." With a flick of her wrist, the air shimmered, and an image formed before them—a grand castle standing tall against the sky.

"The key to finding the Brood was entrusted to the Windian Royal Family," Deis explained. "They know the way."

Garr stepped forward, his towering frame cutting a sharp silhouette against the fading light. His voice carried with the weight of decision. "Then we go to Castle Windia. It's time to speak with the king."

No one argued. The words felt final, like the toll of a distant bell. And so the party said their farewells to Deis and they were guided to the exit.

As they emerged from the shrine, the mountain air wrapped around them—hot and heavy, laced with the acrid tang of sulfur and the bitter bite of ash. Twilight had already claimed the sky, washing the jagged cliffs of Mount Zublo in hues of deep crimson and violet. The ground trembled faintly beneath their boots, the mountain's veins alive with unseen fire.

The party descended in silence, each step crunching against the blackened stone. Not a word passed between them. Rei walked with his hands in his pockets, his eyes fixed on the horizon. Nina's wings shifted uneasily, the orange light glinting off their feathers as she stared at the path ahead. She followed at the rear, her gaze distant, thoughts clouded with the weight of everything Deis had revealed.

Ryu led the way, his resolve stronger than ever. With every step, he could feel the weight of his destiny pressing upon him, the echoes of his ancestors urging him forward. Rei walked beside him, his usual smirk absent as he mulled over everything they had learned. Deis stayed behind, content with her new freedom. But Nina… she kept her eyes locked on Garr.

He walked at the rear of the group, his massive form hunched slightly, as if the burden of his past was finally crushing down upon him. The truth had been laid bare—Garr was a dragon killer, a relentless executioner who had once hunted Ryu's kind without question. And while Ryu had chosen to trust him, Nina couldn't shake the unease curling in her chest.

She had trusted Garr. He had been a guide, a protector, a friend. But now, every time she looked at him, she saw the image of those ancient Guardians—merciless, unfeeling in their slaughter of the Brood. Had he truly changed? Or was he simply waiting for the right moment to strike again?

The distant sound of waves crashing against the shore snapped her from her thoughts. The ship to the Rhapala Region awaited them at the docks of Junk Town, its sails billowing in the wind. One way or another, their journey would take them to the heart of the Windian kingdom, where the final piece of the puzzle lay hidden.

But as Nina stepped onto the ship, she made a silent vow. She would not let Garr out of her sight.