The air grew heavy with menace.
The cloaked figures moved with unnatural grace, their eyes glinting beneath deep hoods.
He tightened his grip on the seed beneath his skin — the quiet thrum growing into a roar.
"Who are you?" he demanded.
One figure stepped forward, voice cold as stone.
"We are the Keepers. Guardians of the fracture's balance. Those who maintain chaos to prevent greater collapse."
Lira's eyes narrowed.
"You poison the city with lies."
The Keeper laughed, a sound void of warmth.
"Lies? No.
Truth is a blade that cuts deep.
Without the fracture, your precious city would crumble."
He felt the seed flare, an urge to strike rising in his veins.
"We don't want chaos.
We want healing."
The Keeper's eyes flashed dangerously.
"Healing is a luxury of the blind."
Suddenly, shadows stretched and twisted around the Keepers.
Dark tendrils slithered toward them.
Lira leapt forward, blade flashing in the dim light.
"Fight!"
He summoned roots bursting from the earth, glowing fiercely.
The battle erupted in a storm of light and shadow — roots tangling with tendrils, steel clashing with dark magic. The seed inside him screamed, unlocking powers he barely understood.
One Keeper lunged at him, blade aiming for his heart.
He dodged, feeling a strange calm in the chaos — as if the seed itself was guiding him.
With a surge, he unleashed a wave of glowing roots that tore through the Keepers' shadows.
They recoiled, snarling.
But the leader remained, eyes burning like coals.
"You cannot escape us.
The fracture will consume you."
He gritted his teeth.
"Not if I decide its fate."
The city trembled beneath their feet.
The fracture pulsed in response.
"This shit is only beginning."
End of Chapter 12.