The world remembered six Paths.
Fire, Water, Nature, Force, Ether, and Shadow.
But on a storm–drenched night many years ago, a seventh one still existed—raging, writhing, alive.
Lightning slashed across the sky as an entire mountainside trembled under the force of the battle. The ancient temple that once crowned the peak had collapsed into broken pillars and shattered stone, each fragment humming with unstable energy.
A lone figure staggered through the debris.
Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth, mixing with the rain and dust. His Path emblem—once a shimmering gold—flickered like a dying flame. He pressed a trembling hand to the seal carved into the ground, its deep cracks glowing with unnatural light.
"It's breaking…" he whispered, voice hoarse. "The Seventh won't hold much longer."
A second figure approached—a woman in tattered robes, clutching a child wrapped in a dark cloth. Her eyes were wide with fear, but there was no hesitation in her steps.
"Tell me it's not too late," she said.
The man didn't answer immediately. He looked toward the swirling vortex at the center of the ruined temple. Energy twisted violently—shifting colors, shifting form—as if reality itself was being torn apart.
"It woke too soon," he said finally. "We never should've let it reach this state."
A rumble rolled across the sky. Thunder, or something far worse.
The woman tightened her hold on the child. "If it awakens fully, the others will hunt him. You know that."
A shadow rippled across the vortex, and for a moment, the man's breath caught.
A shape formed within the swirling chaos—vague, humanoid, yet wrong in every way. Its outline flickered like a dying flame, and its very presence bent the air around it.
The Seventh Path was waking.
He forced himself to stand. His emblem pulsed weakly.
"I'll try to seal it," he said. "But I can't hold it forever. You have to go."
The woman shook her head. "You won't survive if you do."
"None of us will survive if I don't."
He placed his hand on the ground again. The seal flared to life, burning his skin, but he didn't pull away.
Stone groaned. The air rippled. Energy snapped like chains tightening.
For a heartbeat, it appeared the seal might hold
—
Then the vortex screamed.
A shockwave burst outward, shattering ancient pillars into dust. The man was thrown back, crashing into the temple wall. The woman shielded the child with her body, stumbling but refusing to fall.
When the light faded, the vortex stood quiet.
Too quiet.
"That's not good," the man muttered, pushing himself up.
Because from the stillness… something moved.
A silhouette stepped out of the dying vortex—its form faint, flickering, but undeniable. Its voice was a whisper that crawled beneath the skin.
"Do not… bind me."
The woman trembled. "It's conscious?"
The man drew a long breath. "It shouldn't be. Not yet."
The child in her arms stirred for the first time, small fists clenching. A faint tremor rippled outward from him—barely noticeable, but enough to cause both adults to feel it.
The flickering figure turned its head toward the babe.
Its voice echoed, distorted.
"The vessel…"
The man didn't hesitate.
He threw himself between the entity and the woman, his Path emblem blazing bright for one final time.
A golden shockwave erupted from his body.
The entity staggered back, glitching like a flame caught in wind.
"Run!" he shouted. "Take the child and go!"
"But the seal—"
"I'll finish it from here!"
The woman clutched the infant tightly and ran into the forest, rain pounding against her back, the baby's soft cries drowned out by the thunder.
Behind her, the temple shook violently.
The man raised both hands, drawing the last of his life's energy into the shattered seal. The ground pulsed, light spreading like roots through stone.
The entity reached toward him—
And he roared with everything he had left:
"Seventh Path—be forgotten!"
A brilliant, blinding flash consumed the mountain.
The vortex collapsed. The entity's cry was torn apart by the rupture of space. Stone turned to dust. Air turned to silence.
When the light died, nothing remained of the temple—just a crater of scorched earth and drifting ash.
The Seventh Path had died that night.
And yet…
Somewhere in the darkness of the forest, a newborn cried softly in the arms of the woman who fled, unaware that the last flicker of that forbidden power had chosen him as its new vessel.
A power the world believed erased.
A power that would awaken again.