Chapter 2 — The Crimson Rift
The forest had gone still.
Not the peaceful stillness of dusk, but the kind that makes the air feel wrong. Even the wind dared not move the leaves.
Anay sat by the pond, eyes closed, palms grazing the cold surface of the water. The faint hum of his aura rippled outward, glowing faintly violet. Beneath that quiet, he could feel Hakai's presence—a deep, patient shadow pulsing beneath his soul like the breath of a sleeping beast.
Kael and Liora stood at the tree line, half bathed in the fading orange light. They spoke little—just exchanged quiet glances that said everything. Kael's lips curved faintly.
"He's growing fast," he murmured.
Liora nodded softly. "He reminds me of—"
She stopped. The air shifted.
A low vibration crawled through the ground, so faint at first that it could've been imagined. But then it came again—stronger, sharper. The pond quivered. The birds burst from the trees.
Anay's eyes snapped open. The water beneath his hands rippled violently as the temperature dropped.
"What was that?" he whispered.
Kael's face had drained of all color. His usual calm had turned rigid, cold. Liora's eyes widened, trembling—not in fear of the unknown, but recognition.
Then it happened.
The sky cracked.
A jagged seam of red light tore open above the forest, stretching like a wound in the heavens. From its depths oozed a heavy, suffocating pressure—a presence that felt ancient and malicious, pressing against the soul like the gaze of a god that remembered your sins.
Crimson embers rained down, and the forest screamed as the rift pulsed once, twice—then something stepped through.
The moment it did, Kael stumbled back a half-step. His breathing hitched. Liora's hand flew to her mouth.
Anay turned toward them in confusion. "Kael? Liora? What—"
He froze.
The figure emerging from the rift wasn't human. Seven glowing marks, carved into its flesh like molten sigils, pulsed with crimson light. Its skin was pale ash; its eyes, pits of living flame. Every breath it took warped the air itself.
Anay's mind reeled. He remembered the number, the stories, the way Kael had once spoken in whispers by the fire. The Seven Hells.
This is one of them.
Then the name slid into his mind like ice: Abyrus.
The same Abyrus who had murdered Kael and Liora's friends—Anand and Garix—years ago.
Abyrus' gaze found him first. Cold. Curious. Like a scientist studying a new species.
"So you are…" he began softly, voice smooth and dripping with cruelty.
Before he could finish, his head tilted—and his fiery eyes landed on Kael and Liora.
Something twisted in that expression. Recognition. Delight.
"Children…" he purred, the word stretched like silk and poison. "From that day. You've grown."
The edges of his mouth lifted into a cruel, haunting smile. "How sad… that I couldn't kill you back then."
The forest itself seemed to shudder at those words.
Kael's jaw clenched. His aura flared, thunder cracking faintly around his arms. "You—!" he snarled, stepping forward. His voice shook with rage and grief tangled together. "You killed Anand! You killed Garix!"
Liora's eyes were wet but sharp as blades. She took one step beside Kael, her ice-blue aura igniting.
"You'll pay for every drop of their blood," she hissed.
Abyrus tilted his head slightly, the smile never fading.
"I've waited a long time," he said softly. "Let's see if your souls still scream the same way."
The red light behind him flared again, turning the trees into silhouettes of fire and shadow. The pond rippled with their reflections—Anay, frozen between past and present; Kael and Liora, blazing with resolve; and Abyrus, the nightmare reborn.
Somewhere deep inside, Hakai stirred—growling faintly within Anay's spirit.
The forest held its breath.
The first drop of blood had yet to fall.
But everyone knew—
The hunt had begun again.
To be continued…