Rebirth: 100 Days Before Doomsday - Chapter 357

Chapter 357: Search for Heartstone
Rune blinked at her speed, but Vaelen only inclined his head, a glimmer of approval in his eyes.

“Then it is decided.” He raised his hand, and a glowing orb of silver and blue appeared between his palms. “This will lead you to the Heartstone. But beware—the path is not merely dangerous. It is cursed. Many have tried before you. None returned.”

Grace reached out, the orb settling lightly into her hand, pulsing in rhythm with her heartbeat.

“I’m not them,” she said.

“No,” Vaelen agreed, a small, knowing smile curving his lips. “You are something far greater.”

Later, as they stood outside the Citadel, Rune leaned closer to her, voice low.

“You really would have agreed to anything, wouldn’t you?”

Grace shrugged, spinning the orb lightly in her palm. “I said as long as it didn’t contradict my beliefs.”

Rune chuckled under his breath. “Good thing you didn’t add ‘within reason’.”

Grace smiled, fierce and bright. “We have a relic to find. And a Veil to heal.”

Rune’s smile faded into something softer, almost reverent. He looked at her like she was the center of every battle he had ever fought—and the peace that could finally end them.

“I’m with you. Always,” he murmured.

She squeezed his hand, then turned her face toward the stars.

A dying world awaited.

A lost Heartstone waited to be reclaimed.

And Grace was ready to march into hell itself to save everything that mattered.

* * *

The Shadow Sector was nothing like Grace had imagined.

It wasn’t just broken—it was forgotten.

Once-beautiful planets now floated in ruin, their atmospheres torn, surfaces fractured and poisoned. Celestial debris drifted between them like corpses of ancient dreams, and darkness—not the kind that brought sleep, but the kind that devoured—blanketed everything. Even the stars here were dim, distant flickers that seemed afraid to shine too brightly.

Inside the Stormwing-class shuttle, Grace stood by the viewing window, arms crossed, gaze hard. Behind her, Rune was rechecking the coordinates embedded in the orb they’d received from the High Lord. Its pulse had grown stronger the closer they came.

“You sure this is the place?” Grace asked, voice calm but edged.

Rune didn’t look up. “This is it. The orb’s reacting to the gravitational pull of the planet below. It’s called Naris V. The Heartstone is there—or what’s left of it.”

Grace let out a slow breath. “And the curse?”

Rune finally met her eyes. “Legend says Naris V was once the cradle of starborn magic. But during the Fracture, the entire world was infected. Not by beasts. Not by shadows. By a memory. The memory of betrayal.”

She frowned. “That’s… poetic.”

“It’s also deadly. Some say those who land here are consumed not just physically—but mentally. Their own regrets, guilt, doubts… they start reliving them. Until they lose who they are.”

Grace’s gaze sharpened. “Well, good thing I know exactly who I am.”

Rune gave her a faint, crooked smile. “I never doubted it.”

Within minutes, the shuttle began its descent. As the hull rattled and the atmosphere screeched against their shields, Grace reached for her helmet, slipping it on and activating the inner systems. Her armor—midnight-black with silvery runes etched across the plates—shimmered faintly with the power of her Celestial Monarch rank.

Rune donned his own, sleeker suit, infused with magik runes and battle-enhancers drawn from both science and the arcane.

The shuttle landed with a sharp hiss. The moment the doors opened, a thick fog—violet-gray, almost oily—swept in, curling around them like hungry fingers.

The world outside was a graveyard.

Crumbling towers rose like jagged teeth from the cracked earth, and rivers of dark, tar-like liquid pulsed beneath stone bridges that had long collapsed. Screams echoed faintly across the barren plain—but they weren’t human. They weren’t even physical.

Grace activated her soul shield immediately, the barrier of light humming around her body. Rune followed suit.

“We move fast,” she said. “We get the Heartstone. We get out.”

He nodded, jaw set. “Let’s hope the dead let us.”

They hadn’t walked more than two kilometers before the first signs appeared.

It started with whispers—soft, lilting voices that didn’t come from around them, but within.

“You failed them, Grace…”

“You let them die. Your team. Your family…”

“You’ll fail again.”

Grace paused mid-step, her eyes narrowing.

The voice was hers—but not hers.

She turned her head slightly. “Ignore them. They’re illusions.”

Rune was slower to respond. His expression had gone pale. “They know how to dig deep. This isn’t just shadow magic. It’s empathic. It reads our traumas and uses them against us.”

Grace took his hand, pulsing her magic into him through the contact. “Then let’s show them we don’t break.”

Her power surged outward, sweeping the mist away in a radius of twenty meters. For a heartbeat, the fog screamed.

Yes—screamed.

And then the silence returned, heavier than before.

They moved faster, following the orb’s glowing light. It pulled them toward what once must have been a palace. Now, it was only bones of a structure, with shattered stained glass and broken archways leading into endless dark.

Inside, the temperature dropped further. Grace’s breath fogged up the inside of her visor, and the air felt thick with invisible pressure.

Then came the beasts.

They dropped from the ceiling like molten shadows—dozens of them, their forms flickering between reality and some other dimension. Eyes like pits, claws too long for any natural creature.

“Shadow Wraiths,” Rune breathed.

“Let’s give them something to remember,” Grace muttered, and unleashed herself.

With a flick of her wrist, her celestial blade formed in her palm—silver and burning blue. She spun forward, slicing through the nearest wraith. It let out a shriek of agony as its form disintegrated.

Behind her, Rune lifted his hands, casting twin arcs of chain lightning, each bolt weaving through six wraiths and turning them to ash.

But for every creature they killed, more arrived.

“It’s endless!” Rune shouted, back-to-back with her.

Grace didn’t hesitate. She dropped her blade, stretched her palms forward, and released a pulse of raw celestial energy that exploded outward, flattening the hall, collapsing walls—and vaporizing every single shadow beast in its path.

Dust swirled. Debris fell.

And then—silence.

“Grace,” Rune said quietly. “The orb…”

It was pulsing brighter than ever—blinding now, hovering just above a cracked dais in the center of the hall. Beneath the ruins of a throne lay a circular depression, and within it—glowing faintly with golden light—was a crystalline sphere the size of a human head.

The Heartstone.

Grace stepped forward.