The world returned to Kael in fragments.
A sound first—wet, uneven breathing.
Then a smell—burnt iron, like a forge left unattended.
Then the weight—heavy, suffocating, pinning him to the cracked stone floor beneath him.
For a moment, he couldn't even tell if he was alive.
Then the pain spoke for him.
It burned through his nerves like a slow-moving fire, licking every inch of his body. His ribs felt cracked. His lungs fought for breath. His right arm trembled uncontrollably. The faint glow that usually wrapped around his Mark had vanished entirely.
Empty.
He felt completely, terrifyingly empty.
Kael forced his eyes open.
The world above him was a blur of dim red light and settling dust. A faint ringing muffled every sound, like he was underwater. He blinked again, harder this time.
Shapes solidified.
The cavern roof…
The fractured pillars…
The tendrils of shadow still clinging to the edges of the battlefield…
And someone kneeling over him.
Lyra.
Her face was pale, streaked with dirt and dried tears, but her eyes—those sharp, determined eyes—were focused entirely on him. Her hands hovered above his chest, trembling as if afraid to touch him and afraid not to at the same time.
"Kael…?" she whispered, voice cracking in a way he had never heard before.
He wanted to answer her. Wanted to tell her he was okay, or at least not dying yet. But when he opened his mouth, no sound came out—only a dry, broken breath.
Lyra leaned closer, a hand sliding under his head to lift it gently.
"You're safe. You're safe now," she whispered, even though it was clear she wasn't fully convinced.
Kael swallowed, tasting blood.
He remembered everything.
Ryzen's attack.
The spear of shadow piercing through him.
The surge of corrupted power.
The Voidflare that had answered his last, desperate call.
And then… nothing.
"Lyra…" His voice was barely a whisper. "What… happened… to him?"
Lyra's jaw tightened. "He ran. When you unleashed the Voidflare, it destabilized the Mark in his body. He barely held together long enough to escape."
Kael exhaled shakily.
At least he hadn't failed completely.
But then Lyra added, "He said something before he left."
Kael's eyes snapped open. "…What?"
"That you're not done." Her voice was low, haunted. "That the Mark choosing you wasn't a blessing. It was a countdown."
A chill spread through Kael.
He tried to sit up.
Pain stabbed through his ribs.
"Don't move—!" Lyra grabbed his shoulder.
"I have to," Kael breathed, pushing against the ground even as his vision blurred. "The Mark… if he's right… if something else is coming—"
Lyra's hands tightened.
"Kael."
Her voice hardened. Not angry—afraid.
"You nearly died. Again. And you keep pushing like you don't care if you do."
Kael froze.
Her fingertips were cold, shaking.
"I thought—" she swallowed, voice trembling despite her effort— "I thought I lost you."
Something twisted painfully inside him. He had never seen her like this—not during their roughest missions, not during the trials, not even when the Order fell.
Kael reached out with his good hand.
His fingers brushed hers.
"Lyra… I'm still here."
She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in deeply as if steadying herself. When she opened them, they were wet but fierce again.
"Then don't rush to disappear," she said quietly.
He wanted to answer her. Wanted to say he would try, or that he wasn't planning to die—not when so much was finally coming to light.
But a pulse rippled through the cavern floor.
Both of them tensed.
Lyra shifted instantly, her hand moving to her blade.
The air thickened.
Not with heat, or magic, but familiarity.
A presence.
Kael's skin prickled. His Mark flickered weakly, reacting before he did.
Someone was approaching.
Lyra rose to her feet, pulling her short sword free with a slow, practiced motion. "Stay behind me."
Kael tried to push himself upright but managed only a pained grimace.
A figure emerged through the settling dust.
For a second, Kael thought—prayed—it was Ardyn returning early.
But no.
The gait was wrong. The silhouette taller but thinner. The aura—colder, older.
Lyra took a step forward.
"Stop right there!"
The figure did not.
A second later, the stranger came into full view.
A man, robed in grey and violet, with thin silver chains wrapped loosely around his arms. His hair was black streaked with white, his eyes a pale, eerie shade of amethyst. A faint sigil glowed above his left brow—a sigil Kael recognized from forbidden tomes.
A Seeker.
A member of the very faction that had vanished centuries ago. The ones said to have walked between the spiritual and physical worlds, bearing truths the Orders feared.
Kael's heartbeat stumbled.
A Seeker appearing here was impossible.
Or… meant the myths were true.
The man raised a hand—not in threat, but in greeting.
"Do not fear," he said. His voice was soft, like quiet thunder. "If I wished to harm you, child of the Mark, you would not have awakened."
Lyra didn't lower her guard. "Identify yourself."
The man smiled faintly.
"I am Eryth Hollowveil, last of the Seekers. And I have come for him."
He pointed at Kael.
Lyra stepped between them instantly. "You're not taking him anywhere."
"You misunderstand," Eryth replied calmly, stopping a few paces away. "I come not as an enemy, but as a witness." His eyes locked with Kael's. "Your Mark has awakened prematurely. And violently. That alone demands interference."
Kael forced himself up enough to sit, ignoring Lyra's frustrated glare.
"What do you mean… prematurely?" Kael asked, voice hoarse.
Eryth's expression darkened.
"The Mark you carry is not merely a power. It is a seal. One linked to an ancient cycle—one that has been delayed for centuries. But Ryzen's awakening has accelerated everything."
Kael swallowed hard. "Accelerated what?"
Eryth's answer was soft. Heavy.
"The return of the Eclipse Sovereign."
A silence so sharp it hurt followed.
Kael's blood turned to ice.
He had read those words once—buried in brittle pages of an outlawed scripture. The Eclipse Sovereign wasn't a person.
It was a catastrophe.
A being born from the imbalance between the living and the dead. A force that rose only when both realms bled into each other.
Lyra took a step back, disbelief etched across her face. "That's… impossible. Those were legends."
Eryth shook his head. "Legends are merely truths softened for the weak."
His amethyst eyes glowed faintly.
"And your friend here has been chosen to end—or unleash—it."
Kael's stomach twisted.
His Mark pulsed weakly again.
He felt Lyra's gaze on him. Fear mixed with something else—something fragile.
Kael asked quietly, "Why me?"
Eryth walked closer, robes whispering across the ground. He knelt beside Kael, inspecting the dim Mark on his forearm without touching it.
"Your soul," he murmured, "is an anomaly. A fracture between two worlds. You wield both light and shadow… but belong fully to neither. Such a vessel is rare. Dangerous."
He looked up. "Perfect."
Kael stiffened.
"Perfect for what?"
Eryth's answer chilled him.
"To either anchor the Sovereign… or destroy it."
Lyra's breath caught. "He's still just a boy."
"No," Eryth corrected gently. "He has been chosen since birth."
Kael looked down at his arm.
The Mark pulsed again.
This time… painfully.
Like something deep inside was stirring.
Eryth sighed, rising to his feet. "You do not have long. Ryzen's awakening has already weakened the seal. When he stabilizes his corrupted Mark, he will become the first Herald. And then the Sovereign will begin to cross."
Lyra clenched her fists. "So then what? What do we do?"
Eryth extended a thin, crystal-like shard from within his sleeve.
"This," he said, "is a Soul-Fragment Key. One of three. With it, Kael can delay the Sovereign's arrival. Perhaps even gather enough power to oppose it."
Kael stared at the shard.
It hummed with gentle light.
But Eryth wasn't done.
"The other two keys," he continued, "are hidden. One in the Forgotten Mire. One in the Palace of Echoes. And Ryzen already seeks them."
Lyra's eyes widened. "Then we have to move—"
Eryth held up a hand.
"No."
His tone had changed—soft but firm.
"He has to move. Alone."
Kael blinked. "…What?"
Lyra stepped forward. "Absolutely not."
"You cannot follow him," Eryth said, not unkindly. "Your presence… interferes. His Mark reacts to you. It grows unstable, dangerous. If he faces Ryzen with you beside him, his power will collapse entirely."
Lyra froze.
Kael felt the words like a blade.
Eryth turned to Kael once more. "If you wish to save her… and this world… you must walk the path alone."
Kael clenched his teeth.
He didn't want this. He didn't want to leave Lyra—not when Ryzen was hunting him, not when the Sovereign was waking.
But the Mark pulsed again—harder this time—forcing a low groan from his chest.
Lyra knelt beside him instantly. "Kael—!"
He grabbed her wrist.
Their eyes met.
And Kael saw it again.
Fear.
Pain.
But also trust.
He hated the decision forming inside him.
But he knew it was the only one he could make.
"…I'll do it," he said quietly.
Lyra's breath hitched. "Kael, no—"
"I have to," he whispered. "If staying together puts you at risk… then I won't do it."
Lyra shook her head fiercely. "Don't you dare make that choice alone. I—"
But she couldn't finish.
Her voice broke.
Kael gently squeezed her hand.
"I'll come back," he said softly. "I promise."
Eryth stepped forward, placing the shard in Kael's palm. "Then your path begins now."
Kael tightened his grip on the shard.
It pulsed like a heartbeat.
And something inside him—something old, something buried—answered.
The cavern wind shifted.
The shadows trembled.
And the Mark on Kael's arm… ignited.
Not fully.
Not brightly.
But enough to burn.
Lyra reached for him—
"Kael—!"
—and then the world tore open beneath his feet.
A vortex of light and shadow spiraled upward, swallowing him whole. Lyra's hand slipped from his fingers as he was dragged into the rift, her voice fading into echoes.
"KAEL!"
Then—
Darkness.
Cold.
Endless.
Silent.
Until a whisper rose in the void.
A voice not human.
"The vessel awakens."
And something huge, ancient, and alive opened its eyes in the darkness.