The team sat around their usual table, the faint, cloying scent of fear from the streets still clinging to them, battling with the aroma of fresh-baked bread. Despite the warmth of the meal before them, a heavy, suffocating presence hung over their conversation.

  Raze slammed his cup down, the ceramic rattling against the wood. "We've seen events like this before. People disappearing, towns in denial. Something's happening here—something evil—and we need to figure out what." His voice was tight, edged with a grim determination.

  Emmet nodded, already in tactical mode. "First, we investigate the Holy Altar. Eanne can check if something feels off. We all go together, like we always do. From there, we decide our next step."

  This was routine for them. Every town, every pilgrimage—paying respects at the altar was a tradition Emmet would never ignore. Sometimes, it led to unexpected discoveries. But this time, what they found was far from normal. It was a gaping maw.

  The Coralis altar stood taller than most, a monolithic slab of dark, obsidian-like stone. Its surface wasn't merely carved; it was violently gouged with ancient spirals and jagged, chaotic symbols that writhed into one another, as if madness itself had been etched into the very rock. It felt cold, even from a distance, radiating an unnatural stillness.

  Eanne placed her fingers against the altar's side, her expression tightening. Her eyes narrowed, unfocused, as if peering into another realm. "...It's dedicated to the Chaos God."

  Emmet exhaled slowly, a heavy, drawn-out sound. "Well—that's a first." His usual composure was strained.

  He stepped forward, resting his hand against the cold, unyielding stone, offering his usual thanks—a prayer of respect for their journey. But before he could even finish the first whispered word—

  Eanne stiffened, her hand pressing harder against the altar, her breath catching.

  "Wait." Her voice was sharp, a warning.

  Emmet pulled back instantly, his senses on high alert. "What?"

  "There's still active energy here." Her voice was a low hum, as if the altar itself was speaking through her.

  Emmet's eyes flickered with surprise, a flicker of genuine alarm. "For real?"

  Raze, intrigued by the altar's bizarre, almost predatory shape, stepped closer, his curiosity overriding caution. He casually rested a hand against its smooth, chilling surface as he studied its chaotic carvings.

  "This one's a little creepy," he murmured—and then, in an instant, he simply vanished.

  No flash. No sound. One moment he was there, the next, the space he occupied was empty.

  Shock hit the group like a physical blow, cold and disorienting.

  "Raze?!" Emmet roared, his voice cracking with urgency. His eyes darted to Eanne, desperate for an answer. "Eanne—do you know what just happened?!"

  The urgency in their faces was stark, raw panic, but Eanne remained strangely calm, her hands still tracing the altar's terrifying surface, her brow furrowed in concentration.

  "Hmmm..."

  Julian took a sharp, rattling breath, his own fear fighting with exasperation. "Don't 'hmmm' at me! Where in the abyss is Raze?!"

  Eanne turned to them, her expression confident, but chillingly detached.

  "Don't worry. This altar is a teleportation device."

  Emmet frowned, shaking his head as if to clear the static from his mind. "A what?"

  "They're used by the Gods—to send blessings, or for passage between their shelters." She tapped the altar lightly, the sound echoing in the sudden silence. "They create private dimensions. Their reasons are never clear."

  Arian folded her arms, her jaw tight, her gaze fixed on the empty space where Raze had been. "But we've never found one still active before." A cold dread began to seep into her bones.

  Eanne nodded slowly, her eyes still distant. "...That's what makes this strange. This one feels... hungry."

  Then—her expression shifted, the placid calm shattering.

  Something flickered across her face—not just surprise, but a sudden, stark terror. Her eyes widened, focusing on something unseen, her body tensing.

  Emmet stepped forward immediately, his hand instinctively going to the hilt of his sword. "What? What is it, Eanne?!"

  Eanne's gaze snapped toward him, sharp and piercing.

  "It's not Raze," she said, her voice now strained, breathless. "It's Coralis. The city—it's shifting."

  Silence settled over the group, thick and suffocating, tension crackling like unstable static.

  "I feel people panicking," she continued, her voice growing urgent, "like animals trapped in a cage."

  Julian clenched his fists, his knuckles white. "So suddenly? Why?"

  Eanne exhaled sharply, a sound of grim finality. Her voice was firm now, resonating with dark power. "Bloodbounds."

  Arian's stomach tightened, a wave of nausea washing over her. "Demonic energy? Here?"

  "...It's gotten stronger," Eanne confirmed, her eyes now blazing with a dangerous light. "Much, much stronger."

  Julian was already on his feet, pure adrenaline coursing through him. "We need to get to the city. Now."

  Emmet looked at him, considering their next horrifying move—Raze was still missing, swallowed by the ominous altar, but if the town was falling into chaos, consumed by lurking demons, then splitting up was the only logical choice, no matter how much it ripped at him.

  "You two go," Emmet said firmly, his voice clipped, filled with a grim resolve. "I'll stay and figure out what happened to Raze."

  Arian nodded immediately, already turning to run. "I'm going with Julian."

  Emmet sighed, a heavy, weary sound, setting a hand back on the terrifying altar. "Once I'm done here, I'll catch up. Be careful. And survive."

  Without another word, Julian and Arian sprinted toward the city, their figures rapidly swallowed by the encroaching shadows of twilight—while Emmet and Eanne remained behind, facing the unknown force that had just torn their team apart. The silence stretched, broken only by the distant, growing screams from Coralis.

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  The air around Emmet hummed with a tension far thicker than the dust motes dancing in the faint light. Outside, the obsidian-looking altar of the Chaos God pulsed with a malevolent, erratic rhythm, a sinister beacon to Raze's imprisonment. Emmet paced, a frantic energy thrumming beneath his usually calm exterior. Julian and Arian, their other allies, had already rushed to the city, their powers desperately needed against the encroaching demon hordes. Emmet and Eanne were left alone, the weight of Raze's predicament heavy between them.

  "Eanne," Emmet began, his voice strained, "you seem... unconcerned. Do you know how to help Raze?"

  Eanne's ethereal form shimmered, a soft glow in the dim room. "In the era of the gods, Emmet," Eanne's ancient voice resonated, "altars like this were used to bless worshippers with temporary powers. To help them hunt, to fly, to win battles, to build, to harvest, and more. And in order to receive those blessings, one must undergo a trial. There were no divinants during those eras, so divinity was received that way."

  Emmet's brow furrowed in thought, his mind already piecing together the implications. "So Raze is undergoing a trial?" He paused, then continued, recalling past conversations. "You said before that the Chaos God is kind and helpful, but the problem is usually due to his nature of chaos, sometimes the result of his actions leads to some kind of danger. That's why he secluded himself from other gods and does not mingle with humans?"

  "Yes, that is correct," Eanne replied, his voice tinged with a subtle weariness. "Or at least, that is what we believed. But this altar... a chaos altar used to worship the Chaos God. Well, I haven't heard of a chaos altar that was specifically for worshipping the gods." Eanne's form flickered slightly, a sign of inner turmoil. "And I'm sorry, Emmet, I cannot help you with this. It is in my tribe that we should never tamper with the altar. It is a taboo to my kind. It also affects our existence, like a curse. We serve the gods; we are not supposed to oppose them."

  Emmet's shoulders slumped, but he nodded. "I understand, Eanne. And I will respect that." With a final, sorrowful glance, Eanne dissolved, retreating back into Emmet's inner space, leaving him truly alone with his thoughts and the pulsating altar.

  A grim resolve settled over Emmet's features. His eyes, usually alight with theoretical curiosity, now burned with fierce determination. He began to set up a small, makeshift crafting bench, pulling out his tools and small crystalline components. He started to work, trying to replicate the resonant frequency of the altar's chaotic hum. His theories revolved around a fundamental error in the altar's construction—a flaw he could exploit with precise elemental manipulation. He tried combining his Earth and Fire totems in a dozen different ways, but each attempt resulted in a fizzling spark or a dull thud.

  Frustration mounted with each failed experiment. He slapped a hand against his forehead, the sound sharp in the quiet. "Who am I kidding?" he muttered to himself. "I know nothing about what I'm doing. I don't know a single thing about this altar." He sat on the ground, defeated, and started slapping his own face. "Focus!" he told himself.

  He stared at his hands, then at the altar. All of his theories were wrong. He had been trying to access a divine problem with elemental tools. It was a brute-force approach, a common error in his theories. He had been so focused on the chaos, on the altar's physical properties, that he’d missed the obvious. The gods, they are gone now. The beings that granted divine powers. He had to be smarter than that.

  "Divinities," he whispered. "Hmm. Divinants? That's right. Maybe there is a way to help Raze."

  His mind raced, building a new hypothesis from the ground up. The altar's power was a manifestation of divinity. His and Raze's powers were gifts of divinity. The common denominator wasn't chaos or elemental magic—it was the very essence of their being. The answer wasn't in the altar, but in the connection between them. "What's common among us? Among divinants?" he murmured to himself. "The spark. The divine spark. That is what I should tap."

  His approach shifted entirely. He retrieved a few rare, spiritually-aligned crystals and a small vessel of purified, ancient river water. This was a gamble, a desperate, final attempt. He wove together the energy from his four totems—the sturdy stability of his Earth totem, the refined fire of his Fire totem, and then, the raw, unstable power of their transfigured corrupted forms. He was attempting to build a crystalline matrix that could handle this raw energy, a substance that should not exist. He was a blacksmith, engrossed in his craft, each deliberate motion guided by pure, desperate instinct. He was no longer thinking about what he was doing, only following the flow.

  Then, a flicker. A hum. The tiny, nascent crystal he had shaped with his totems began to pulse with a faint, warm light. It was no longer a lifeless object; it was alive. He felt it responding, not to his elemental magic, but to something deeper. The light intensified, showing a clear hint of detecting his own divinity, shining through the totems that formed it.

  Right, he thought, a frantic burst of inspiration hitting him. Let me try converting you to one of my totems, the same way I created the Earth Totem. Maybe I can do it.

  He focused all of his will, all of his divine essence, on the glowing crystal. He pushed, trying to bind it to his being, to make it an extension of himself. There was a bright flash, a shudder of raw power, and the crystal shattered into dust.

  But in its place, a small, obsidian-like sphere of pure energy coalesced and hovered in the palm of his hand. It didn't feel like a totem. It didn't feel like a tool. It felt like a concept made manifest. It hummed with a purpose he immediately understood. It was a form of energy that could detect and resonate with divine essence. He wasn't simply holding an object; he was binding a contract to it, submitting a portion of his will to its function.

  A new tool was born. A great discovery. A Nexus. It was a game-changer, the answer to a question no one had ever thought to ask, and it had been created in a moment of pure desperation.

  The next step was clear: link it to Raze. He couldn't physically reach him, but he needed a tangible anchor for the divine connection.

  He closed his eyes, reaching inward. "Eanne," he called softly, "do you have any items 'sealed' within your space that belonged to Raze, something with a personal feel to him?"

  Eanne's presence, though unseen, resonated. "He does have his favorite sword collection, sealed inside my space for safekeeping."

  "Excellent," Emmet murmured. "Pick one that you think has the most potential attachment to him. Something he truly cherished."

  A moment of silence, then a faint shimmer in the air beside Emmet. A small, elegantly crafted dagger materialized, its hilt worn smooth from countless touches. "This," Eanne's voice echoed, "he said this was a gift from his mother."

  "Perfect," Emmet said, taking the dagger. Its cool weight felt right in his hand, a tangible link to his friend. It carried the faint, persistent echo of Raze's very being, a resonant imprint of countless battles and quiet moments.

  Back at the altar, Emmet set the dagger upon the ancient, scarred surface. He then held the glowing Nexus in his free hand, closing his eyes. Instead of manipulating the altar's energy, he sent his own divine essence through the Nexus, a silent, powerful pulse that traveled through the blade, seeking a direct connection to Raze's divine spark. He was no longer trying to force open a doorway; he was simply reaching out to a friend.

  Meanwhile, within the churning heart of the chaos domain, Raze was lost. One moment, he had been standing by the altar, and the next, the world had dissolved into a maelstrom of shifting colors and disorienting sounds. He stumbled, his warrior instincts screaming for solid ground, for a tangible enemy. But there was only the overwhelming, formless energy of chaos.

  He clutched Chaosbane, its familiar weight a small comfort in the dizzying expanse. This was not a trial, but a place, a realm. As the chaos pressed in, attempting to overwhelm him, a sudden, powerful warmth surged through him. It was a beacon, a clear signal that cut through the madness—a feeling he knew, a presence reaching out to him, not from the altar, but from a deeper, more personal source. It was Emmet's divinity, connecting with his own. The connection gave him a new sense of clarity, a moment of stillness in the chaos.

  Suddenly, a figure materialized from the madness. His face was a blur of shifting, chaotic light, but his form was distinct. Raze’s eyes widened in recognition.

  "Oh, it's you," Raze said, his voice a mix of surprise and understanding. "So this is an entrance to the chaos domain?"

  The man's form solidified slightly, a wave of familiar power radiating from him. "I see, so you finally managed to control it," he said, gesturing to the sword in Raze’s hand.

  Raze held up the sword, its chaotic power now a part of him thanks to Emmet’s work. "Well, I'm still having a hard time using it, but taming it sure is hard."

  The man chuckled, a deep, resonant sound that vibrated through the domain. "Remember, Chaosbane is just a tool to tap into your chaos ability, but let's face it, you're a warrior with the warrior god's blessing. You're a real anomaly, you know. The chaos in you is weak, but it can actually boost your overall power. You're the only one who actually possesses that—truly remarkable." He paused, his gaze seeming to pierce through the chaos itself, out into the world beyond. A flicker of surprise crossed his face. "Your friend is also remarkable, it seems he made a discovery."

  He turned back to Raze, the chaotic light around his face flickering with amusement. "Oh well, seems like you guys are on a hurry, it's been nice seeing you Raze. I'll just forward your hello to your grandpa."

  Raze looked back toward the shimmering portal, the lifeline of Emmet’s magic a powerful presence. A grim resolve set in.

  "I am getting out," Raze said firmly, his eyes fixed on the entrance. "No need for him to know about this."