The Betrayal of the Rift

The sky above Praetoria cracked open like shattered glass, revealing an abyss that pulsed with eerie light. The Rift had appeared again, a phenomenon that only occurred once every thousand years. It was said to be the birthplace of forgotten magic and forbidden knowledge. But to the warriors of the Splinterlands, it was a battlefield unlike any other—a place where power could be won, but only at an unspeakable cost.

Veyna, a warrior of the Water Splinter, stood at the edge of the Rift, her trident gleaming with the energy of the tides. She had fought countless battles, but this one felt… different. The air was heavy, thick with whispers that slithered into her mind. They spoke of power. Of destiny. Of a fate she could not escape.

Across the battlefield stood Sorn the Voidcaller, a master of the Death Splinter. His presence was suffocating, his eyes devoid of humanity. He had emerged from the Rift itself, an emissary of its ancient will. The moment their eyes met, Veyna felt a strange familiarity, as if she had known him in another life.

The battle began with a fury unlike any other. Water surged against darkness, the tides clashing with the abyss. Veyna struck fast, but Sorn anticipated every move. It was as if he knew her better than she knew herself.

And then, in the chaos of the fight, he spoke.

“Do you not remember, sister?”

Veyna hesitated. Sister? The word sent a chill down her spine.

Sorn removed his mask, revealing a face eerily similar to her own. “You were taken from the Rift long ago. The Summoners erased your past, shaped you into their warrior. But you belong here. With me.”

Her grip on the trident trembled. Memories flooded back—flashes of shadows, whispers calling her name, a bond severed by forces she did not understand. She had not just been fighting against the Rift. She had been fighting to forget it.

The battlefield fell silent. The other warriors watched, unaware of the war raging inside her. Would she return to the Rift, embracing the power that had always been hers? Or would she deny her past and fight against her own blood?

The Rift pulsed once more, awaiting her answer.