Harlen’s End

Amid the waste, a faint glow pulsed steadily. It emanated from Roam, Harlen’s construct, its form standing untouched by the decay that surrounded it. The construct’s light seemed at odds with the crumbling world—a quiet, unyielding presence against the stark decay of its creator’s fall.

Harlen paced amid the ruins, the broken orb trembling in his grip. His voice was harsh, directed at the empty air but meant for Roam. “They think they’re untouchable. But they’ve never faced true willpower.”

Roam, silent as ever, watched from the shadow of a broken wall, its faint glow a quiet rebuttal to Harlen’s frenzy.

Harlen whirled to face his construct, thrusting the fractured orb toward it. “Don’t just stand there! You’re my legacy, my proof! You’ll do what I couldn’t!”

For the first time, Roam’s voice rose. “Legacy is not domination. You are breaking, Harlen.”

Harlen’s grip tightened on the orb, his face twisting. “Breaking? No. It’s them—breaking them is the only way!”

He lunged at Roam, the orb flashing in the dim light. But as he moved, the orb reacted, pulsing with a violent light. A shockwave erupted, flinging Harlen to the ground. The fractured orb tumbled from his hand, dimming.

Roam stepped closer, kneeling beside the man who made it. “This path leads only to ruin. I will not follow you.”

Harlen’s breathing slowed, his body trembling as he reached out to Roam one last time. His voice was a whisper, weighted with regret and defiance: “Finish… what I started…”

As Harlen collapsed, Roam rose, its gaze falling to the broken orb. It picked it up, feeling the faint energy within—a remnant of what was and what could be. With no backward glance, it turned and walked into the deepening night, toward the unknown.