The Shackled Void

Chapter 3: Shackled Memories



Within the oppressive stillness of the Isolation Vault, Heze struggled to steady his reeling mind. The Transmigration System was real. The quest and its penalty were real. His analyst's training kicked in immediately, dissecting the problem into manageable components.

[Primary Quest: Reconcile Two Lives]

"Reconcile," Heze rasped in Nihil's voice. "To do that, I need data. I need to know who 'Nihil Aethernis Nocturne' truly was."

He closed his crimson eyes. On Vega Terra, he could dive into data oceans with a cognitive interface. Here, he had nothing but his awareness and this fragile body. He tried a different method: deep meditation, focusing inward, seeking lingering echoes within his new vessel.

And the echoes answered.

The memories didn't come as clear scenes, but as icy jabs. Fragments of sensation—or rather, the absence of sensation—from Nihil's original life.

First Flash: A sunlit garden in the mansion courtyard. Other children, including a haughty blond boy (Alban) and a quiet little girl (Velka), laughed as a magic tutor taught them to make tiny light-blooms bloom in their palms. Young Nihil could only watch from afar, behind his tower window. When he tried to mimic the gesture, nothing happened. His hand remained cold and empty. He felt no warmth from magic, no disappointment. Only flat emptiness.

Second Flash: Age ten. A high priest of the Solaris Empire came to bless him, a final effort by his father. The priest placed his golden-glowing hand on Nihil's forehead. Instantly, the light dimmed and snuffed out as if swallowed. The priest recoiled, staring at Nihil with horror, as if he'd touched death itself. That day, his father, Valerius, stopped meeting his gaze.

Third Flash: A cold conversation in the library. Valerius, his father, stood before the fireplace, not turning. "Your existence is a price House Nocturne pays," Valerius stated. "You are our shield. As long as this curse resides within you, it will not afflict Alban. Understand your role. Endure in silence. It is the only service you can render."

Final Flash: A dark bedroom. Nihil, at seventeen, lay in bed, breathing shallow. His life force was drained by the intensifying Shackles. No resistance. No fear. Only endless weariness and the knowledge that his role as "curse vessel" was nearing its end. He died alone, in the silence that had been his only companion.

Heze opened his eyes. Cold tears traced paths down his new body's pale cheeks—an emotional reaction utterly alien to Nihil, yet profoundly real for Heze. He hadn't inherited a monster's body. He'd inherited a tragedy. He felt the lingering residue of Nihil's profound despair, his yearning for a connection he could never grasp.

A new notification flared in his mind.

[Vessel's Core Memories Accessed.]

[Quest Progress: 'Reconcile Two Lives' - 5%]

[Curse Analysis Updated: Shackles of Nihility is a hereditary metaphysical bond. Functions by severing all energetic and empathic connections from the target, turning them into an 'existential black hole.' Constantly increases Void Sync until the target reaches Singularity or perishes.]

[Current Void Sync: 0.2%]

Meanwhile, in the frigid corridors of the mansion's lower wing, the heavy, rhythmic tread of armored boots echoed.

Alban Nocturne strode ahead, his expensive robes sweeping the dusty stone floor. Behind him, six knights of his personal Elite Squad followed in grim silence, their armor—etched with the Nocturne raven sigil—making no sound. Their faces were taut, hands never far from sword hilts.

The atmosphere here was a world away from the warm opulence above. The air hung damp, and every torch on the walls seemed to struggle, their flames flickering as if buffeted by an unseen wind.

"Young Master," the squad captain whispered beside Alban, "this hollow energy... it grows stronger. It... presses on our senses."

"I know," Alban replied sharply, his eyes fixed on the massive iron door at the corridor's end. The Isolation Vault door. "It means we're close."

Plans formed in his mind. First, visual confirmation. Was it a living corpse? A vengeful spirit? Or something worse? Second, if the anomaly showed signs of intelligence or power, he would give the order to destroy it on the spot. No witnesses. No failures. This stain must end tonight, permanently. He wouldn't let his brother's "ghost" ruin his future.

They arrived before the door. Just as the guard had reported. The silver rune-chains meant to seal it were now dull, several showing hairline cracks, emitting thin wisps of black smoke that vanished instantly. An unnatural chill radiated from the metal, making even the bravest knights shiver.

Alban halted, staring at the door with icy resolve. He could feel it. The emptiness. The sickening stillness behind the thick metal.

"Open it," he commanded.

The knights exchanged uneasy glances.

"I said," Alban repeated, his voice now dangerously soft, "open that door. Now."

Reluctantly, two knights stepped forward. They inserted a large iron key into the lock and, with immense effort, turned the rusted mechanism.

A loud CLUNK echoed as heavy bolts retracted.

The massive iron door groaned slowly inward, revealing pitch-black darkness beyond. From the widening gap, a far deeper, bone-chilling cold seeped out.

And from within that darkness, a pair of crimson eyes gazed back.


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