Long before kingdoms rose and fell, before the first mages spoke the words of binding, the Soul-Web stretched across the world like a hidden tapestry.
Invisible yet vast, it linked every living thing — from the lowliest insect to the mightiest Eidolon.
It was said that magic was not created by humans, but merely borrowed from the Web.
A gift... or perhaps a leash.
Those who walked the path of magic followed the ancient Phases of Resonance:
Phase One: Touch the Web. Manifest flickers of energy.
Phase Two: Bond to minor Eidolons — spirits of wind, flame, stone.
Phase Three: Command combat-form Eidolons, wielding their power in battle.
Phase Four: Merge mind and soul partially, gaining the Eidolon's traits and instincts.
Phase Five: Full-body Eidolon Fusion — the user and Eidolon became one, sharing flesh and will.
Beyond these lay Phase Six —
A whispered heresy.
The point where the magician no longer served the Soul-Web, but rewrote it.
Where Eidolons bent, broke, and were consumed.
---
Caelum Vey dreamt of the Web now —
but not as it was taught in the ivory halls of Solaris Academy.
He saw it unraveling.
Threads snapping like brittle bone.
Lights extinguishing one by one.
And at the center, a black sun.
Pulsing.
Hungering.
He awoke with a sharp gasp, cold iron biting into his wrists.
The black carriage rumbled over broken stone paths, its windows barred with nullstone. The air stank of stale magic and fear.
Outside, night bled across the ruined landscape, casting the Hollowlands in shades of endless gray.
Two guards sat opposite him, their faces hidden behind polished helms.
They whispered, thinking him still unconscious.
"They say he touched Phase Six."
"Bullshit. No one survives Phase Six."
"Then how do you explain the soul fractures at Solaris?"
A shiver ran down Caelum's spine.
The Brand of Exile still burned against his shoulder, its sigil embedded into his soul.
It was supposed to sever his connection to the Web, leave him hollow and powerless.
Yet...
Caelum closed his eyes and stretched his senses cautiously outward.
There —
A faint thread.
Tattered, frayed, but alive.
The Soul-Web had not abandoned him completely.
Something stirred within his soul — something vast and ancient, waiting.
The Forbidden Eidolon.
The carriage jolted violently as a wheel struck a broken root.
One of the guards cursed and adjusted his helmet.
Caelum remained slumped, breathing slow and steady, hiding the flicker of awareness now burning in his veins.
He was not powerless.
Not yet.
And if he still held even a spark of magic...
then these fools had made a fatal mistake keeping him alive.
You tore my soul apart.
You cast me into the Hollowlands to die.
Now... I will show you what you created.
The chains binding him groaned faintly as his hidden Eidolon stirred, answering his call.
It would take time.
Careful timing.
But soon enough, the bindings would weaken.
And when they did...
There would be no chains strong enough to hold him.
Far in the distance, across the endless black plains, the Hollowlands awaited —
a place where magicians and Eidolons alike went mad.
A place where Caelum would forge his new path.