Lord of the Foresaken
Chapter 76: THE WATCHERS BEYOND

Chapter 76: THE WATCHERS BEYOND

The expedition had been gone for three months. The Ninth Tower stood empty save for the skeletal administrative staff that maintained communications with the Eight Domains. In the Council Chamber, dust gathered on the ornate chairs where domain representatives once argued about the future of their fragile union.

Lania, Reed’s former lieutenant and now Acting Custodian of the Ninth Tower, stood at the massive arched window overlooking the sprawling city. Her reflection in the glass revealed the web-like scars that mapped her face—remnants of her encounter with an Unmaker’s servant five years ago. The silver filaments embedded in her flesh occasionally pulsed with a soft blue light that matched the rhythm of her heartbeat.

"Any word?" she asked without turning.

Councilor Thraz, the gaunt representative from the Third Domain, cleared his throat. "Nothing beyond what we received last week. They crossed the Ashfall Mountains and were heading toward the ruins described in Reed’s dreams."

She nodded, the movement causing the mechanical augmentation at her neck to whir softly. "And the anomalies?"

"Growing stronger. The reality fluctuations have been detected in all domains now."

Lania’s augmented eye—a marvel of both arcane engineering and biological adaptation—zoomed in on the distant horizon. Storm clouds gathered there, but they were not natural. They swirled in geometric patterns that defied meteorological explanation.

"They’re running out of time," she muttered.

"We all are," Thraz replied simply.

Beyond the fabric of reality as the inhabitants of the Nine Domains understood it, other eyes watched.

The chamber—if such a mundane word could describe it—existed in a fold between dimensions. Its walls rippled with colors that had no names in human language, shifting and flowing like liquid glass. The beings that occupied this space bore little resemblance to anything that might be recognized as life.

Three entities hovered around a pool of what appeared to be liquid darkness. Within its depths, images formed and dissolved: Reed and Shia leading their expedition across a desolate landscape; the Ninth Tower standing vigil over the Converged Domains; ancient ruins awakening as dormant mechanisms sensed the approach of artifact bearers.

"The vessels progress as designed," spoke the first entity, its voice resonating not through air but through the conceptual fabric of existence itself. Its form resembled a fractal pattern that continuously folded in on itself, never settling into a definable shape.

"The female vessel shows stronger resistance than anticipated," noted the second, a collection of geometric angles that seemed to occupy multiple positions simultaneously. "Her bond with the Lightbringer fragment grows weaker."

"It matters not," replied the third, a void-like presence that absorbed light rather than reflecting it. "The male vessel compensates. His artifact integration exceeds predicted parameters."

The pool’s surface rippled, focusing on Reed as he stood atop a hill, surveying the ruins ahead. The eight artifacts recovered over the years had transformed him far beyond human. His skin had the texture of burnished metal in some places, raw crystal in others. Veins of luminescent energy mapped complex patterns across his body, pulsing with power that no mortal frame should contain. Where his heart once beat, a swirling vortex of prismatic energy now powered his existence.

Yet his eyes remained entirely human—fierce, determined, questioning.

"They believe they seek the Ninth Fragment," the first entity said, amusement coloring its conceptual voice.

"They believe they seek freedom," added the second.

"They believe," concluded the third, "that they understand the game."

Laughter rippled through the dimensional fold, distorting reality briefly across multiple worlds.

Reed felt it first—a cold shiver that had nothing to do with the desert night. He straightened from where he had been studying the ancient map, his crystalline spine crackling as it realigned.

"They’re watching again," he said quietly.

Shia looked up from the fire she had been tending. Her transformation had taken a different path than Reed’s. Where he had become something mechanical and crystalline, she had evolved toward something more organic yet equally inhuman. Her skin flowed like liquid silk, its color shifting according to her emotions or needs. Currently, it pulsed with a deep crimson warning.

"The Unmaker?" she asked, her voice carrying harmonics that could either soothe or shred the mind of listeners, depending on her intent.

Reed shook his head. "No. The others."

Their twenty elite guards, each chosen for both martial prowess and metaphysical sensitivity, tensed but continued their duties. They had learned not to question when their leaders sensed things beyond normal perception.

"I thought the boundary between us and them would be thicker out here," Shia said, rising to her feet with unnatural grace. The firelight played across her fluid features, casting shadows that seemed to move independently of her body.

"On the contrary," Reed replied, his augmented vision scanning dimensions beyond the visible. "We’re closer now. The veil thins near the fragments."

He extended his right arm, now more weapon than limb. The skin peeled back like petals of a metal flower, revealing a crystalline core that hummed with barely contained energy. The other seven fragments embedded throughout his and Shia’s bodies resonated in response, creating a harmonic that made the air itself vibrate.

"Tomorrow we reach the temple," he said, his human eye narrowing while his mechanical one calibrated to the dimensional distortions surrounding them. "Tomorrow we find the Ninth Fragment and end this."

Shia moved to his side, her liquid-metal hand intertwining with his mechanical one. "And if it’s another trap?"

"Then we spring it with open eyes."

In the chamber beyond reality, the entities watched with growing interest.

"The male vessel senses us," the first observed.

"Impossible," stated the second. "No mortal construct has such capability."

"And yet," the void-like third entity expanded slightly, "he looks toward us now."

Indeed, in the liquid darkness of the viewing pool, Reed’s face had turned upward, his mismatched eyes seeming to stare directly at the watchers. His lips moved, forming words they could not hear through their scrying medium.

"Fascinating," the first entity pulsed with excitement. "The integration exceeds all previous trials. The artifacts are reshaping him beyond our design parameters."

"The Unmaker’s influence was stronger than calculated," the second suggested.

"Or the Lightbringer’s weaker," countered the third.

They shifted their attention to a secondary pool, smaller and filled with what appeared to be liquid light. Within it, images of previous bearer pairs throughout the eons flickered rapidly—all had failed, all had succumbed to the influence of either Unmaker or Lightbringer. All had preserved the balance between cosmic forces without ever realizing they were merely pawns.

"None have ever perceived us," the first entity noted.

"None have ever denied both patrons simultaneously," the second added.

"None have ever sought the Ninth Fragment with knowledge of its purpose," the third concluded.

The primary viewing pool rippled violently, its surface cracking like glass before resealing itself. The entities drew back in surprise—a novel sensation for beings who had observed countless cycles without intervention.

"Something interferes with our observation," the first said.

"The artifacts protect them," suggested the second.

"No," the third entity expanded further, its void-nature consuming more of the dimensional space. "It is something else. Something... unexpected."

Reed lowered his hand, the crystalline core retracting behind metal-organic petals that sealed his arm once more. Sweat beaded on his forehead—the one part of him that remained stubbornly, defiantly human.

"Did it work?" Shia asked, her skin rippling with anxious purple patterns.

"I think so," he replied. "I sensed... disruption in their viewing."

He looked to where Kaylin, their expedition’s metaphysical specialist, sat cross-legged on a flat stone. Blood trickled from her nose, and her eyes had rolled back showing only whites. The strain of channeling the feedback loop through Reed’s augmentations had nearly killed her.

"Enough," Reed said sharply. "Disengage."

Kaylin gasped as she released the connection, collapsing sideways. Two guards rushed to stabilize her.

"Did you... see them?" she wheezed.

Reed nodded grimly. "Not clearly. But enough to know we’ve been asking the wrong questions all along." He turned to face the expedition team. "The Unmaker and Lightbringer aren’t the architects of this game. They’re pieces—just like us."

A murmur ran through the assembled soldiers and specialists.

"Then who?" asked Commander Vash, his hand instinctively tightening on his pulse-blade.

Reed’s gaze returned to the night sky, to a point between stars where space itself seemed to fold inappropriately.

"I don’t know what to call them," he admitted. "But they’ve been watching us—watching all worlds, perhaps—for longer than civilization has existed. The artifacts, the lords, the awakening... all of it has been a test. Or an experiment."

Shia’s liquid-metal features hardened into an expression of cold fury. "And the Ninth Fragment?"

"Is real," Reed confirmed. "But its purpose isn’t what we thought. It’s not a key to freedom. It’s a connection—a direct link to their realm."

He reached into his pack and withdrew a small object wrapped in protective cloth. Unwrapping it revealed a shard of what appeared to be black glass, though it absorbed light rather than reflecting it.

"This isn’t the fragment itself," he explained. "It’s a piece that broke off during the cataclysm that created the Hollow Mountain. I found it five years ago but kept it secret. I needed to understand what we were truly facing before revealing it."

The shard pulsed once, and the air around the camp distorted momentarily.

"And now?" Shia asked.

Reed’s mechanical eye whirred as it focused on the distant temple ruins that would be their destination tomorrow. "Now we change the rules of their game." He closed his fist around the shard. "These watchers beyond have been manipulating civilization after civilization, feeding on the conflict between order and chaos. Tomorrow, we don’t seek the Ninth Fragment to end our involvement in their game."

His human eye gleamed with defiance as he looked once more at that fold between stars.

"We seek it to bring their game to us."

In the chamber beyond reality, the viewing pool shattered completely, spraying liquid darkness across the dimensional fold. The three entities recoiled, their conceptual forms destabilizing momentarily.

"Impossible!" the first entity’s fractal pattern contracted erratically.

"The vessel has a fragment of the connector," the second’s geometric angles distorted in alarm.

"He cannot comprehend its purpose," the third insisted, though uncertainty colored its conceptual voice.

As they regained their equilibrium, a new image formed in the remnants of the pool—not of Reed or the expedition, but of something else entirely. A shadow that existed between their dimension and the mortal realm. A presence that should not be.

"Another observer," the first entity realized with shock.

"A third player," corrected the second.

"Neither Unmaker nor Lightbringer," the third added.

The shadow in the pool seemed to notice their attention. It turned—though it had no discernible form—and for the first time in eons, the entities felt something new: fear.

The shadow spoke, its words somehow translating across dimensional barriers:

"The pawns have learned to look up from the board. What will you do now, players, when your game pieces refuse to move as directed?"

And then, in a voice that carried echoes of Reed’s humanity and something far older, it added:

"They’re coming for you next."