The city below slept unaware, streets slick from a storm that had passed hours ago. The moon struggled to shine through fractured clouds, casting silver shards of light across rooftops and alleyways. But above it all, Riven felt only urgency—Azael's warmth fading in his arms, a ticking reminder of the cost of inaction.
"Hold on," Riven whispered, more to himself than Azael. "I'm taking you somewhere safe. Somewhere only I can get us both out alive."
Azael coughed lightly, blood staining his pale lips, but he nodded faintly. His golden eyes, though dimmed, locked onto Riven's, unwavering.
"You're reckless," Azael muttered, voice strained. "You cannot—"
"I have to," Riven interrupted, his black-gold aura flaring around him, energy thrumming like a living heartbeat. The shadows beneath him twisted, forming serpentine wings of smoke that lifted them both silently into the night sky.
The wind tore at his hair, the city lights flickering below. Every instinct screamed danger—but Riven felt power coursing through him he had never known before. The past, the curse, the fragments of memory all pulsed within him, pushing him forward.
They flew through narrow alleys, between rooftops, until the air shifted. The city became darker here, older—silent except for the distant drip of rainwater and the faint hum of something ancient beneath the streets.
"This is it," Azael whispered. "The entrance to the Sanctuary of Shadows. Only the Eternal One can open it. No outsider, no curse, no force can breach it without your acknowledgment."
Riven's heart thudded painfully. "Then I have no choice."
He stepped onto the edge of a crumbling rooftop. Below, a gaping fissure in the city's underbelly yawned, walls carved with runes that pulsed faintly red and gold. Shadows seemed alive, curling and twisting as though curious, testing him.
Riven inhaled sharply. He could feel the fragments of his past life tugging at him, memories of ancient battles, of fires, of wings unfurling in night skies, of a bond older than the centuries themselves. And beneath it all… Azael. His protector. His anchor. His love.
"I am the Eternal One," Riven whispered, voice trembling yet firm. "I am not afraid. And I will not let you fade."
The fissure responded immediately. Shadows rippled, twisting into a massive, jagged archway, carved entirely from darkness. The runes glowed gold as they opened a path downward, revealing stairs that descended into blackness.
Azael's gaze softened. "You've done it," he breathed. "Only you could summon the sanctuary."
Riven's hand brushed Azael's cheek. "I'm not leaving you behind. Not now. Not ever."
Together, they stepped into the darkness.
The air inside the sanctuary was thick with power, ancient and suffocating. Every step Riven took resonated with echoes of his former self—victories, losses, whispers of a love older than life. Shadows twisted, forming shapes that almost looked like soldiers, wings, faces… yet none moved against him.
"This place…" Azael said softly, awe and fear mingled in his voice. "It remembers you. All of you."
Riven's heartbeat accelerated. At the bottom of the stairwell, a massive chamber awaited. The walls were carved with sigils older than any modern language, the floor inscribed with golden runes that pulsed in rhythm with his own heartbeat. In the center, a pedestal held a crystal-like vessel—pure black with veins of glowing gold.
"The Fragment," Azael whispered. "Your past essence. Only by touching it can you reclaim the power needed to break the curse inside me."
Riven stepped forward, energy coiling around him like living serpents. His aura flared, lighting the chamber in black and gold. Shadows twisted around Azael protectively, wrapping him in a cocoon of safety.
As Riven's hand reached for the crystal, a voice—deep, resonant, and impossibly old—echoed through the chamber:
"So, the Eternal One returns."
Riven froze. Shadows shifted violently around him. The crystal pulsed faster, golden veins glowing brighter.
"Do you accept what you are?" the voice demanded.
Riven's eyes blazed. He thought of Azael, of the bond that had survived centuries, of the golden fire awakening inside him. He could feel the curse tightening around his guardian like a vice.
"I accept," Riven said, his voice echoing through the chamber like thunder. "I accept that I am the Eternal One. I accept my past, my power… and my love."
The crystal flared, golden energy shooting outward, enveloping Riven. Shadows bent and twisted around him, merging with the light, forming wings, a crown of fire and darkness, and a pulse so powerful it shook the chamber.
Azael gasped as the energy spread toward him. His veins glowed faintly gold, the curse beginning to unravel.
Riven reached out, touching Azael's face. Their eyes locked.
"You're mine," Riven whispered. "And I will never let this world take you from me."
Azael's wings unfurled fully, energy sparking along their edges. He leaned into Riven's touch, his voice breaking softly:
"Then we rise… together."
The chamber trembled as shadows and light collided, swirling into a vortex of power and destiny. The air shimmered with the promise of battle, love, and a war that would shake both modern and ancient worlds.
The Eternal One had claimed his fragment.
And together, they were unstoppable.