“…Be the one who decides what rises when this world falls.”

  Elyndra’s voice echoed across the silvery void, soft and terrible like a bell rung beneath the ocean. Kael stood still, her hand cold and comforting on his cheek, but her words burned like iron in his skull.

  His lips parted. “What does that mean?”

  Her gaze shifted—just slightly—but in that instant, the stars in her eyes dimmed.

  Then she looked past him. Through him. As if seeing something far beyond this moment.

  “There is something waking, Kael. Something old. Something… wrong.”

  The void around them darkened. A distant vibration began—a soundless hum that reverberated in his bones.

  “Before gods were born, there were Others. We call them Old Gods, but they are not gods as you understand them. They are hungers given form. Names best left unspoken. One of them... is stirring.”

  Kael clenched his fists, the air around him crackling faintly. “Stirring?”

  Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

  Her expression turned grim.

  “He seeks a relic buried in this world—an artifact tied to his ancient essence. If he finds it, he will use it to reopen the Void Gates. And when they open… the monsters that wait beyond will pour in.”

  Images formed around them—nightmares. Winged serpents made of black smoke and bone, screaming cities vanishing in purple fire, the sky torn into bleeding spirals. Titans that bled stars. Crawling horrors without eyes, screaming without mouths.

  “When he returns to godhood,” she whispered, “this world will die.”

  Kael’s voice was hard, steady. “Then tell me how to stop him. Where to find him. What to destroy. I’ll do it.”

  Elyndra looked at him then—not with pity… but sorrow.

  “You can’t.”

  He stiffened. “What?”

  “Not yet.” She said softly. “You are strong, Kael. Stronger than most. Your soul is rooted in two worlds. But compared to what’s coming, you are still a flickering ember.”

  “I—” he started to argue, but she stepped forward, touching his chest.

  “You wish to help. That is good. That is why you were chosen. But your path is not ready. Not yet.”

  Kael gritted his teeth. “Then when?”

  “When you’ve grown. When your Soulbrand burns brighter than fear. When your name is whispered by kings and screamed by the dead.”

  She turned away, her form starting to fade into streaks of starlight and mourning wind.

  “The world will need you… when it falls.”

  And then the light returned—blinding, burning.

  When Kael opened his eyes again, he was kneeling at the altar of the Cathedral of Starlit Birth, the braziers still flickering in perfect silence.

  Seradin stood at the door.

  Unmoving.

  Watching.

  Kael slowly rose, his heart pounding, his fingers trembling.

  There was an Old God waking.

  There were Void Gates.

  There was a relic the world couldn’t afford to lose.

  And he…

  He wasn’t ready.