The Memories of Collapse

The Glitch Fortress pulsed with energy, its obsidian walls shimmering with blue runes that danced like captured stars. The main hall, vast and imposing, felt like a cross between an elven temple and a technological core, with artificial green fields visible through distorted crystal windows, defying the desolation of the Desolate Continent outside. Athos, seated at the obsidian table, was surrounded by the seven remnant elves of Eryndor—Sylvana, Lirath, Thalira, Elyssa, Vorian, Korvyn, and Zyrath—along with Lysara and Veyra, who watched in reverent silence. The Tear of Eryndor at his neck glowed with a cold light, synced with his hacked interface, flashing with data: Memory Analysis: Initiating. Athos raised a hand, his eyes gleaming with digital codes. “Time to see Eryndor’s past,” he said, his voice firm but laced with curiosity. “Show me the Corruptor.” He activated Systemic Memory Reading, and the world around him dissolved into a stream of visions, diving into the elves’ collective memories.The memories began with the Golden Age of Eryndor, a realm of unimaginable splendor. Lush green fields stretched under a sky of silver auroras, with elven cities carved from living crystal that reflected starlight. Giant trees, pulsing with vital magic, were linked by enchanted vine bridges, and rivers of energy flowed like the world’s veins. The elves lived in harmony, their magics—shadows, light, stellar runes, vital energy—shaping a culture of art and power. Sylvana, in her memory, danced among vines that sang nature’s hymns. Lirath wove shadows into living sculptures. Thalira traced runes that made stars dance in the sky. Elyssa wielded her light sword in ceremonial duels, while Vorian healed forests with vital energy. Korvyn ignited forges with arcane flames, and Zyrath opened portals to other worlds, bringing cosmic knowledge. It was a utopia, where elven power seemed infinite, and the Corruptor’s name was just a distant whisper, a shadowy legend.But the memories darkened, like a sky under a storm. The first demon attack came without warning, a horde of grotesque creatures emerging from cracks in the ground, their corrupted flesh bodies and red glowing eyes radiating malice. Crystal towers crumbled under demon beast strikes, and energy rivers were poisoned by black miasma. The elves fought bravely: Sylvana summoned vines that crushed demons, Lirath engulfed hordes with devouring shadows, Thalira launched explosive runes that incinerated armies. Elyssa sliced demons with her light, Vorian healed allies, Korvyn burned entire fields, and Zyrath opened portals to banish enemies. But then came the demon lords, controlled by the Corruptor.The first lord, Vhulgar, the Wrath, was a mountain of horns and magma, wielding a mace that split mountains. The second, Zyraeth, the Envy, a winged serpent whose scales reflected deadly illusions. The third, Ghultar, the Gluttony, already known to Athos, was a lithe figure with black stone scales and magma eyes, devouring all with her Essence Devour skill. The fourth, Morgath, the Sloth, a colossus of rotting flesh that drained vitality with its presence. Each lord was a force of nature, leading demonic legions that ravaged Eryndor.The clash against the Corruptor was catastrophic. He appeared as a colossal shadow, a living void with liquid darkness eyes, his voice a thunder that made the sky bleed. The elves united their Ultimate Forms, creating devastating combos: vines, shadows, runes, light, vital energy, flames, and portals formed an arcane storm that shook the realm. But the Corruptor, with a gesture, unleashed Absolute Chaos Miasma, a wave of darkness that corroded elven magic, erasing vines, dissolving shadows, breaking runes, and extinguishing light. Crystal cities collapsed, vital trees withered, and the elves fell, one by one. Sylvana saw her kin swallowed by miasma, Lirath felt her shadows betray her, Thalira watched her runes fade. The kingdom was defeated, reduced to ruins, and the survivors fled, carrying only the memory of the fall.Athos, immersed in the visions, frowned. Something’s off, he thought. The Corruptor... wasn’t really there. These memories are fragmented, manipulated. He tried to delve deeper, but was ricocheted—the visions dissolved into a black void, an absolute darkness swallowing light and sound. A cold whisper echoed in the void, almost like the Corruptor’s laugh. Back in reality, Athos opened his eyes, still at the obsidian table. The elves stared, concerned, as Lysara and Veyra stepped closer, tense.Athos laughed softly, his cynical smile returning. In the end, you still have tricks up your sleeve, don’t you, Corruptor? he thought, his interface flashing with an alert: Corrupted Memories Detected. He looked at the elves, the Tear of Eryndor glowing brightly. Whatever the Corruptor was hiding, Athos was ready to uncover it.