The Council of Stars

The Desolate Continent stretched like a scar of ancient glories, with gray ash dunes and half-buried elven ruins, the howling wind carrying particles of dust that stung the skin like cold needles. The air, laden with sulfur and metallic dust, constantly reminded of the desolation that reigned. The Glitch Fortress, now an oasis of hacked power, stood as an anomaly, its obsidian walls pulsing with blue runes that illuminated artificial green fields and emerging villages. The culture of the Desolate Continent was one of survival, with villages united by bonds of resistance but divided by distrust, especially after the First Great War, which had unleashed corruption from the depths.Athos stood in the main hall of the fortress, manipulating his interface with a cynical smile, numbers glowing in his vision: Mana: 35000. Intelligence: 55000. Cosmic Strength: 50000. He reflected on ATHOMIS, where he rallied clans with hacks, but here, the game was real—and Elyndrael, the remnant elf he had saved from the confrontation with Drakonath, was the key to expanding his empire.“The remnant elves,” Athos said, turning to Elyndrael, who stood with dignity, her silver hair shining under the hacked light, and her violet eyes still laden with subtle distrust. “You said you'd show me them. How do we do this without wasting time hunting one by one?”Elyndrael, with her formal and monotone voice, responded: “Master Athos, I will gather the remnants and convene a meeting between them with your participation. They are scattered, but I know how to contact them.” Her thoughts echoed caution: He is powerful, but his magic is strange, as if from another world. Can I trust he won’t use them as tools?Athos raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “Go ahead. My time is valuable—the Corruptor doesn’t wait.”Elyndrael nodded, raising her hands. She channeled an ancestral magic, a encrypted communication known only to Eryndor’s descendants: a network of invisible ethereal threads, woven with runes that encoded messages in patterns of starlight, impossible to intercept without alpha blood. Her violet eyes glowed, and she murmured an ancient elven incantation, sending pulses of energy that traveled the continent like silent echoes. The threads extended to hidden hideouts—concealed caves, camouflaged ruins, and pockets of magic—reaching the remnants. The message was clear: “Gather in the Veil of Stars. The Hero of the Desolate wishes to speak. Eryndor's future depends on it.”Minutes later, responses came as vibrations in the network: “We accept. The prophecy moves,” said a deep female voice. “Caution, but hope,” another replied. Elyndrael lowered her hands, turning to Athos. “They responded and attended the message. I will depart for their meeting now. The Veil of Stars is a hidden plane, safe from unwanted eyes.”Athos nodded, satisfied. “Go. I’ll follow with my elves. Don’t delay—I have a kingdom to expand.”Elyndrael departed, using her magic to teleport in shadows, arriving at the Veil of Stars—a reality created by one of the remnants, a pocket dimension resembling an eternal starlit forest, with silver-light trees and an infinite sky of spinning stars. There, around a floating crystal table, were the 7 remnant elves, survivors of Eryndor’s lineage.The first was Sylvana, a short and beautiful woman, with short blonde hair like sun rays and green eyes like leaves, dressed in enchanted vine armor. Her delicate appearance hid a subtle strength, like a root breaking stones. “Elyndrael, you risk much bringing an outsider,” she said, her voice soft but firm.Beside her, Lirath, a tall and beautiful woman, with long black hair like night and gray eyes like storm, wore a cloak of woven shadows. Her posture was elegant, like a panther. “The prophecy speaks of a fallen star. Is this Athos it? Or an illusion of the Corruptor?”Thalira, another tall and beautiful woman, with braided silver hair and violet eyes like Elyndrael’s, wore a robe of star runes. Her beauty was ethereal, like a full moon. “Our numbers dwindle. If he offers restoration, we must listen. But with caution.”The last woman, Elyssa, tall and beautiful, with flaming red hair and amber eyes, carried a light sword. Her appearance was warrior-like, with subtle scars telling battle stories. “I trust Elyndrael. She wouldn’t bring us a trap.”The men were Vorian, tall with brown hair and blue eyes, wearing enchanted leaf armor, his voice measured: “The Corruptor moves. We need allies, not isolation.”Korvyn, muscular with short black hair and black eyes, wore beast hides arcane, his personality direct: “If this Athos is weak, I’ll test him myself.”Zyrath, the eldest, with white hair and wise eyes, wore a star robe, having created the Veil’s reality. “The decision is collective. Elyndrael, is he coming?”Elyndrael nodded. “He is here.”The reality trembled, and Athos entered, accompanied by Lysara and Veyra, the two elves who had followed him from the beginning. His presence was dominant, the Tear glowing at his neck, and his invisible interface analyzing the group. The elves fell silent, eyes fixed on the outsider who challenged Eryndor’s fate.