Kael's first steps in the ruined city were cautious. Every shadow moved like it remembered him. Every gust of wind carried whispers he couldn't place — screams, steel, fire — fragments of lives that had long since vanished. The streets were empty, yet they had weight, pressing down on him with unseen eyes, watching, judging, waiting.
He paused at the edge of a broken fountain. Moonlight glinted off the cracked stones, illuminating a face that wasn't his own — pale, young, unscarred — yet the eyes told a story the rest of his body could not. Rage. Pain. A hunger for vengeance that refused to die.
A faint sound drew him back to the present. Footsteps. Slow. Measured.
Kael spun, fists clenched, muscles coiled like springs. From the shadows stepped the girl who had dragged him from the alley when he first woke. Her hood was down. Her white hair shimmered under the moonlight. Her eyes burned with quiet fire.
"Still following me?" Kael asked, voice rough.
"Someone has to make sure you survive," she said, blade in hand, calm, precise. "Not everyone gets a second life, Kael."
"I don't need saving. Not from anyone."
Her gaze didn't waver. "Maybe. But you're marked. The Revenant's Mark isn't something you can ignore."
Kael's fingers brushed his chest instinctively. Beneath his shirt, the faint sigil throbbed in rhythm with his heartbeat. Pain and power intertwined, a rhythm he barely controlled.
"I don't even know what it is yet," he muttered.
"Then we'll find out," she said. Voice soft but sharp, like steel scraping stone. "Before it kills you… or turns you into something unrecognizable."
The ruins themselves seemed alive. Shadows stretched unnaturally, walls groaning, stones shifting under invisible weight. The wind carried the scent of smoke, iron, and something older — death.
Then, the roar.
Figures emerged from the far street. Men in black, eyes glowing red, weapons ready. Their approach was silent, deadly.
Kael's pulse spiked. No hesitation. Legs pumping, fists ready. Instinct took over. Memories of past lives surged — the rhythm of battle, precision, anticipation. Every strike, every dodge, every motion screamed of a body that had walked through death before.
The girl fought beside him. Each movement was grace and lethal intent. Blades flashed, striking steel, breaking bone. Together, they carved a path, the city echoing with the clash, the roar, the screams.
A man lunged from the shadows, serrated blade aimed at Kael's side. He twisted midair, catching the edge, and sent the attacker crashing into rubble. Another came from behind, faster, stronger. Kael ducked, spun, and his fist met the man's chest. Crack. Thud. Silence.
"Not bad for a newbie," she said, slicing through another.
Kael didn't answer. Focus consumed him. His world narrowed to survival, to motion, to instinct.
Then, at the street's edge, a figure appeared. Taller. Darker. Silence radiated from him, bending shadows like smoke.
Kael froze. The figure's voice was low, rough, dangerous. "Kael… you were not meant to return."
Fists clenched. "Then I'll make sure they regret it."
The figure stepped closer. Kael noticed the sigil carved deep into the stranger's palm — identical to his own, but darker, pulsating, alive. Power crackled between them, like a storm waiting to break.
The girl hissed, "He's one of the Revenant Hunters. Kael… don't—"
Too late. Kael charged. The Hunter moved like shadow incarnate, striking before the eye could register. Steel met flesh, and Kael flew backward, skidding across the cracked stone. Pain lanced through his chest — the Mark thrummed violently.
But something inside stirred. The spark, faint and dangerous, surged. Not enough to control, yet enough to move, to fight, to survive.
Rising, knees shaking, blood dripping, Kael faced the Hunter. Their sigils glowed faintly, heartbeat syncing with power rippling in the air.
"Your past… your deaths… belong to me," the Hunter growled. "And I will claim what is mine."
Kael smirked through bloodied lips. "Not today."
They collided again. Faster. Harder. Shadows became weapons. Steel clashed, sparks flew, pain exploded in Kael's body. Bones screamed, muscles burned, but he moved, countered, struck, survived. Every move, instinct. Every strike, memory.
The girl fought beside him, but Kael sensed the Hunter growing stronger, feeding on the Mark. His chest burned, the sigil throbbing, whispering promises he couldn't yet understand.
Another roar split the air. From the alleyways, shadowy tendrils erupted, twisting, grasping, consuming. One of the Hunter's men fell, screaming, as darkness claimed him. Kael's eyes widened — this wasn't just a fight. This was awakening.
The Hunter's glare cut deep. "So it begins. The Revenant does not walk alone anymore."
Kael inhaled deeply, letting rage and purpose fuse. He would survive. He would fight. He would uncover the truth behind the Mark.
The battle raged through the streets, echoes bouncing from crumbling walls. Kael's body moved like water, bending around attacks, striking with deadly precision. The Hunter countered, faster, stronger, each movement an echo of Kael's own instincts.
Pain and power collided. Blood streaked the stones. The girl, side by side, took down foes with lethal grace. Together, they pushed the enemy back. But the Hunter's eyes never left Kael. Every strike, every dodge, every breath was watched, calculated, waiting.
And then… silence.
Kael and the girl stood in the middle of the street. Around them, bodies fell, shadows retreated. The city itself seemed to hold its breath.
The Hunter remained, distance between them, sigil glowing. His voice cut the night. "This is far from over, Revenant. Your mark will be your prison… or your weapon. And I will make certain it chooses the path I command."
Kael's fists clenched. His chest burned, the Mark throbbing, whispering, calling. "I make my own path."
The first light of dawn touched the horizon, pale and weak against the ruins. Kael didn't notice. All that mattered was the oath forming in his chest — a vow to rise, to reclaim, to eclipse the world that had betrayed him.
Somewhere deep in the shadows, the city waited. Watching. Hungry.
Kael's eyes glowed faintly, silver against the dawn. The Revenant had awakened. And nothing would stand in his way.