Lord of the Foresaken
Chapter 85: THE NINTH TOWER FALLS

Chapter 85: THE NINTH TOWER FALLS

Lania Silverthread stood at the highest observation platform of the Ninth Tower, her silver hair whipping violently in winds that shouldn’t exist inside the sealed chamber. The once-perfect crystalline windows had developed fractures that spread like hungry veins across their surfaces, distorting the view of the world beyond. Not that there was much world left to see.

Where the sprawling metropolis of Veridian had once stood, only fragments remained—floating islands of reality suspended in a sea of churning dimensional chaos. The sky above had ceased to be blue weeks ago; now it rippled with patterns of impossible colors that hurt the eyes and mind equally.

"Regent Silverthread," a voice called from behind her. She turned to see Commander Esric, one of the few High Guards who had survived the third dimensional breach. Half of his face had been reconstructed with spell-fused metal after crystalline shards had torn through his flesh. What remained of his human eye was bloodshot from sleeplessness. "The scouts report movement at all perimeter points. They’re massing for another assault."

Lania nodded grimly. The forty-two days of Reed’s absence had aged her two decades. Her once-vibrant eyes now held the dull sheen of depleted essence—the cost of channeling stabilization energies through her body to maintain what little reality remained intact around the Ninth Tower.

"How many this time?" she asked, her voice cracking from the strain of commanding for six straight days without rest.

"More than before. Much more." Esric’s mechanical eye whirred as it adjusted focus. "And they’ve changed again. The constructs... they’re incorporating pieces of our own people now. Wearing them like armor."

Lania closed her eyes briefly, allowing herself one moment of despair before steeling herself once more. "The Council?"

"The surviving members are gathered in the Convergence Chamber. Fifth Domain Representative Thallen arrived an hour ago. His entire domain is gone—he’s all that’s left."

Another casualty in a war they were losing against enemies they barely understood. Of the original Nine Domains, only fractured pieces remained, with the Ninth Tower serving as the last bastion of organized resistance against the accelerating collapse of their reality.

"Any word from Reed’s expedition team?" she asked, knowing the answer already.

Esric’s human eye lowered. "Nothing since the mirror vision forty days ago."

Lania turned back to the fractured window. "Then we stand alone."

The tower trembled suddenly, a deep vibration that rattled the crystalline structures and sent cascades of dust from the ancient ceiling. Far below, at the tower’s base, something massive had struck the outermost barriers.

"They’ve begun," Lania said, straightening her posture despite the crushing fatigue. "To the Convergence Chamber."

As they hurried through the tower’s winding corridors, evidence of their dire situation was everywhere. Wounded defenders lined the hallways, many suffering from injuries that defied conventional healing—limbs partly crystallized, organs phasing in and out of reality, consciousness split between dimensions. The tower’s medical chambers had been overwhelmed weeks ago.

The few functional essence-engineers they still had worked feverishly to maintain the defensive barriers, their bodies wired directly into the tower’s systems with tubes of glowing fluid. Many had already burned out, their husks still connected to the machinery, too valuable even in death to disconnect.

Another violent tremor shook the tower, stronger this time. Lania staggered against the wall, leaving a smear of blood where her palm touched the surface. Her body was failing—the price of channeling powers never meant for human vessels.

They reached the massive doors of the Convergence Chamber just as emergency signals began blaring throughout the tower. Inside, what remained of the Domain Council sat around a table that had once accommodated representatives from all nine realms. Now, only four seats were occupied.

"The outer barriers are failing," Lania announced without preamble as she took her position at the head of the table. "This attack is different from the previous ones. They’re coordinating."

Representative Thallen of the Fifth Domain—now a domain in name only—looked up with eyes that had witnessed the annihilation of his entire civilization. "Not just coordinating. They’re using our own dimensional technology against us. The constructs have adapted."

The central projection crystal activated, displaying a three-dimensional image of the tower’s exterior. What they saw sent a chill through the chamber. The attacking forces weren’t the mindless abominations of previous assaults—these moved with military precision. Construct soldiers formed perfect geometric formations, creating living matrices that channeled destructive energies against specific points in the tower’s defenses.

Most horrifying were the weapons they wielded—corrupted versions of the anchor stones and stabilization rods that the Domain scientists had developed to fight against dimensional instability.

"They’ve stolen our technology," whispered Representative Morvain of the Third Domain, her scaled skin glistening with nervous perspiration. "How is this possible?"

"Not stolen," Lania corrected grimly. "Harvested. Along with our people."

The implication hung heavy in the air. The missing populations of fallen cities hadn’t simply died—they had been taken, processed, repurposed. The constructs attacking them wore the faces of their friends and family, wielded the knowledge of their greatest minds.

Another impact rocked the tower, this one powerful enough to crack one of the ancient support columns in the chamber. Dust and crystalline fragments showered down upon the council members.

"We need to activate the final defense protocols," Lania said, pressing her bloodied palm against the recognition panel embedded in the table. "Reed left contingencies in place before his departure."

The table’s surface illuminated in response to her essence signature, projecting a complex series of glyphs that rotated in the air above them.

"Evacuation?" Thallen read incredulously. "To where? There’s nowhere left!"

"Not evacuation of people," Lania corrected. "Evacuation of knowledge. Of essence. Of everything we’ve learned about the dimensional breaches and the Watchers."

The glyphs expanded, revealing a network of hidden sanctuaries—small pockets of stabilized reality scattered throughout what remained of the Nine Domains. Places Reed had prepared in secret, foreseeing the possibility of the tower’s fall.

"He knew," Commander Esric murmured. "He knew we might lose everything."

"Reed always saw further than the rest of us," Lania acknowledged, her fingers tracing commands through the projected interface. "These sanctuaries are shielded from detection. If the tower falls, our knowledge will survive."

The tower shuddered again, more violently this time. Warning signals flashed across the projection as multiple barriers collapsed simultaneously.

"Western quadrant breached!" a voice shouted over the communication crystal. "They’re inside the lower levels!"

Lania’s fingers moved faster, initiating transfer protocols to the hidden sanctuaries. The tower’s vast repositories of knowledge—scientific discoveries, magical innovations, historical records, and most importantly, everything they had learned about the dimensional breaches and the Watchers—began streaming to secure locations.

"We don’t have time to complete all transfers," Representative Morvain warned, monitoring the progress on a secondary display. "The constructs will reach the central archives before—"

Her words were cut short as the chamber doors burst open. A squad of tower guards rushed in, supporting a bleeding figure between them.

"Ambassador Kiran!" Lania exclaimed, recognizing the envoy they had sent to the neighboring Second Domain weeks ago. "We thought you lost with Azurehaven."

The ambassador’s clothes were torn and crusted with dried blood. One arm ended in a crude cauterized stump, but his eyes burned with intensity.

"Azurehaven stands," he gasped. "Reinforcements... coming."

As if summoned by his words, the projection crystal flickered, then displayed a new image: a fleet of vessels emerging from swirling dimensional distortions near the tower’s eastern approach. Unlike the chaotic constructs besieging the tower, these ships moved with purpose, their hulls glowing with stabilization energies.

"Second Domain vessels," Kiran confirmed, accepting a healing draught from a medical attendant. "And not just them. The Fourth and Seventh have joined forces. They’ve developed new technologies—adaptations of the Fragment principles Reed discovered."

Hope flickered briefly in Lania’s chest but was quickly tempered by pragmatism. "Can they break through the construct blockade?"

Before Kiran could answer, the tower’s defensive AI activated, its crystalline voice echoing through the chamber. "WARNING: DIMENSIONAL WEAPONS DETECTED AT FOUNDATION LEVEL. STRUCTURAL INTEGRITY COMPROMISED. CATASTROPHIC FAILURE IMMINENT."

The projection shifted to show the tower’s lowest levels, where construct forces had positioned devices that pulsed with sickly green energy. Unlike their crude adaptations of Domain technology, these weapons were clearly of Watcher origin—designed specifically to sever the tower’s connection to the fundamental forces that kept it anchored in reality.

"They’re not trying to capture the tower," Lania realized aloud. "They’re going to collapse it entirely. Pull it out of our dimension."

Commander Esric’s face hardened with resolve. "We need to evacuate. Now. Save who we can."

"Agreed." Lania’s fingers danced across the control interface, initiating emergency protocols. "Prioritize the essence-engineers, the archivists, and anyone with direct knowledge of Reed’s work. We can’t lose the progress he made."

Throughout the tower, evacuation signals began to sound—a mournful, deep-pitched tone that hadn’t been heard since the First Dimensional War centuries ago. The few remaining transport vessels docked at the tower’s upper platforms began powering up their engines.

"What about the Anchor Stone?" Representative Thallen asked, referring to the massive stabilization artifact housed in the tower’s core—the last functioning Anchor in any of the Domains.

Lania’s expression darkened. "I’ll remain to oversee its transfer protocols. If the constructs capture it intact, they could use it to further destabilize what remains of our reality."

"That’s suicide," Esric protested. "The core chambers are already compromised. You’ll never make it out."

"I don’t intend to." Lania’s voice was calm, accepting. "My essence is nearly depleted anyway. This way, it serves a final purpose."

Before anyone could argue further, a blinding flash of light erupted from the tower’s base, visible even through the chamber’s interior walls. The entire structure lurched sideways, tilting at an impossible angle before dimensional stabilizers kicked in, temporarily halting the collapse.

"Go!" Lania commanded. "Get to the transport vessels. Rendezvous with the alliance fleet if you can breach the blockade."

As the council members and military personnel evacuated, Lania moved in the opposite direction, descending toward the tower’s core. Each step sent spasms of pain through her essence-depleted body, but she pressed on, driven by duty and the knowledge that Reed had trusted her with the Domain’s survival.

The tower’s interior had become a nightmare landscape of distorted reality. In sections where the dimensional barriers had failed completely, corridors twisted into non-Euclidean geometries. Gravity fluctuated wildly—in one chamber, she witnessed wounded defenders floating helplessly toward a ceiling that had become a bottomless void; in another, maintenance workers were crushed against the floor by suddenly multiplied gravitational forces.

Despite the chaos, Lania moved with purpose, using her intimate knowledge of the tower’s secondary passages to avoid the worst of the breaches. The constructs had penetrated deeply into the structure now—she could hear their unnatural movements echoing through the walls, the occasional scream cut short as they encountered isolated defenders.

After what seemed like hours but could only have been minutes, she reached the sealed doors of the Core Chamber. Her authorization still functioned, granting her access to the tower’s heart.

The Anchor Stone dominated the circular room—a massive crystalline formation that pulsed with pure blue-white energy. Unlike the smaller fragments Reed had sought, this artifact had been integrated into the tower’s foundation centuries ago, its power harnessed to maintain dimensional stability for the entire Ninth Domain.

Now it flickered erratically, its energies disrupted by the Watcher weapons attacking the tower’s foundations. Around its base, essence-engineers lay dead at their stations, their bodies burned out from attempting to regulate the increasingly unstable power flows.

Lania approached the central control pedestal, placing both hands on its surface. The system recognized her essence signature, granting access to protocols so restricted that only three people in the entire Domain had knowledge of their existence.

"Protocol Starfall," she spoke clearly, ignoring the blood that trickled from her nose and ears as the Anchor’s disrupted energies lashed against her depleted essence. "Authorization Silverthread Prime."

The pedestal’s surface illuminated with a complex series of commands—Reed’s contingency of last resort. Not just a transfer of the Anchor’s power, but its complete detonation in a controlled dimensional implosion.

Her fingers moved swiftly through the sequence, even as the tower shuddered around her. Through the chamber’s monitoring crystals, she could see the evacuation proceeding above—transport vessels breaking free of the tower’s docking platforms, racing toward the relative safety of the alliance fleet that battled to create an escape corridor.

The constructs were close now; she could hear them breaking through the outer chamber doors. She had perhaps minutes remaining.

As she completed the final sequence, a voice spoke from the communication crystal beside the pedestal—Commander Esric, his tone urgent.

"Regent Silverthread, we’ve cleared the immediate airspace. Approximately forty percent of key personnel evacuated successfully. Alliance vessels are providing cover fire."

"Good," she replied, her voice steady despite the blood now flowing freely from her eyes. "The Anchor is primed. You have three minutes to reach minimum safe distance."

"Lania..." Esric’s voice softened momentarily, using her given name for the first time in their professional relationship. "Reed was right about everything, wasn’t he? This was never just about our world."

She smiled sadly, watching as the Anchor Stone’s pulsations synchronized with her input commands. "No. It was always about something greater. Something we’re only beginning to understand."

The inner doors to the chamber began to glow red as construct weapons focused their energy on breaking through the final barriers.

"One last thing," Lania said, knowing these would be her final words. "The contingency protocols included a message relay system. If Reed still lives, if he succeeded in reaching the Prime Reality... he’ll know what happened here. He’ll know we didn’t fall in vain."

The doors exploded inward, and constructs poured through the opening—twisted amalgamations of machinery and harvested flesh, their movements precise and merciless. At their center stood a figure that made Lania’s heart freeze—a construct built around the harvested essence and form of Reed’s second-in-command, who had disappeared during an earlier mission. His face, still recognizable despite the mechanical components fused to his skull, wore an expression of cold analysis.

"Regent Lania Silverthread," the construct stated, its voice a horrible approximation of the man it had once been. "You will surrender control of the Anchor Stone. The Watchers require its intact preservation."

Lania straightened to her full height, defiant even as her body failed around her. Blood streamed freely down her face, her essence nearly completely depleted.

"The Watchers," she replied calmly, "can go to hell."

With her remaining strength, she slammed her palm down on the final activation crystal.

The Anchor Stone’s pulsations accelerated to blinding speed, its color shifting from blue-white to deep crimson. The construct forces surged forward, but it was already too late.

"For the Nine Domains," Lania whispered. "For Reed."

From observation vessels now reaching safe distance, the survivors watched in awe and horror as the Ninth Tower—the last great bastion of their civilization, standing for over a thousand years—began to collapse in upon itself. Not crumbling like a conventional structure, but folding inward along dimensional axes, sections of the massive tower disappearing into spaces between spaces.

The implosion accelerated, reality itself warping around the tower’s location. A sphere of absolute darkness formed at its center, expanding outward, consuming construct forces and tower remnants alike. Then, when it seemed the darkness would continue growing indefinitely, the sphere contracted violently.

For one breathless moment, nothing happened.

Then, a blinding flash erupted from the tower’s location—a pillar of pure dimensional energy that shot skyward, tearing a hole through the fractured reality above. The shockwave that followed flattened everything within miles, but miraculously parted around the fleeing evacuation vessels, as if guided by an intelligent hand.

Where the majestic Ninth Tower had stood, nothing remained but a perfectly circular void—not destruction, but absence. As if that section of reality had never existed at all.

Aboard the lead evacuation vessel, Commander Esric watched in stunned silence. Beside him, Ambassador Kiran clutched the ship’s railing with his remaining hand.

"What now?" Kiran asked quietly. "Where do we go when reality itself is unraveling?"

Before Esric could respond, the ship’s communication crystal flared to life. The message that emerged was fragmented, distorted—but the voice was unmistakable.

"This is Reed Harrow," the transmission crackled. "If you’re receiving this... the contingency has been activated. The tower has fallen. But this isn’t the end."

Hope surged through Esric’s chest, until Reed’s next words froze his blood.

"The Watchers are not what we thought. They’re not the architects—they’re the jailers. And we’ve just..."

The transmission cut off abruptly as a new dimensional breach—larger than any they had witnessed before—began to form directly above the void where the tower had stood. Unlike the chaotic tears that had plagued their reality for months, this breach opened with deliberate precision, its edges perfectly defined.

Something was coming through. Something massive.

The last thing Commander Esric saw before the evacuation vessels jumped to emergency dimensional transit was a colossal hand—large enough to cradle an entire city—reaching through the breach, its surface covered in glowing symbols identical to those on the Fragment Reed had carried.

The message crystal flickered once more, Reed’s voice returning for a final, terrifying warning:

"We didn’t just find the creators. We set them free."