The calm lasted exactly three days. Three days of normalcy, of school bells and cafeteria food, of Null being a quiet observer, a ghost in his own life. The prophecy of loss, the chilling words of his future self, had been a constant hum beneath the surface of his thoughts. He found himself watching his friends—Kai, Sooji, and Ashley—with a new, frantic intensity, as if memorizing their faces, their laughter, the way they moved. He was trying to find a way to defy a fate he knew was inevitable.
On the third day, the bell for the end of school rang like a death knell. As the four of them walked toward the main gates, a sudden tremor shook the ground, a deep, guttural rumble that wasn't an earthquake. It was the sound of something powerful breaking through the veil of their world. A wave of fear, cold and sharp, washed over the crowd of students, turning a happy chatter into a panicked silence.
Null's senses, now heightened by his father's legacy, screamed a warning. "It's not an earthquake," he said, his voice low and commanding. "It's a dimensional tear."
He looked toward the center of the city, a place known as the Glass Spire, a magnificent skyscraper that housed the city's main Prime Stone repository. A brilliant, malevolent purple light erupted from its peak, a beacon of pure chaos piercing the afternoon sky. It was a beacon of the Stone King's power, a direct and devastating challenge.
"They're here," Kai said, his posture shifting from relaxed student to disciplined warrior in an instant.
Sooji's hand went to her own Prime Stone, a soft, luminescent glow emanating from her fingertips. "What do we do?"
"We get to the Spire," Null commanded, his voice filled with a newfound authority that surprised even himself. "Now. This is a warning shot. We have to contain it before it escalates."
The city was in chaos. The purple tear in the sky wasn't a portal for an army, but a gateway for a concentrated, deadly strike force. Grotesque, stone-like creatures with jagged claws and glowing crimson eyes rained down, smashing through buildings, tearing up streets, and terrifying the populace. They were not a legion, but a vanguard, designed to inflict maximum terror and destruction with limited numbers. These were sentient war machines of the Stone King, infused with a corrupted form of Nightshade.
Null and his team fought their way through the streets, a blur of coordinated power. Sooji's Lumina energy was a brilliant star in the chaos, her pure life force healing the wounded and creating protective barriers of shimmering light to shield civilians. Kai, a deadly hunter, moved with a silent, lethal grace, his arrows striking with pinpoint accuracy, turning the stone creatures to dust. Ashley's Glacial Behemoth power was a fortress, her ice constructs a formidable wall against the onslaught, her immense power freezing the creatures in place.
Null, however, was a storm of a different kind. The new power from his fusion with Fang was still simmering beneath the surface, a controlled fury he was only now beginning to master. He moved with a speed that defied human comprehension, his sword a streak of black and gold. He was a force of destruction, and he was being ruthlessly effective. He was the Unwritten King, and he was fighting for a world he now knew was his father's legacy.
Yet, with every strike, the chilling whisper of his future self echoed in his mind. "You will lose someone." He fought not just to win, but to keep everyone safe, his eyes constantly scanning the battlefield for a sign of a friend in danger. His gaze kept returning to Sooji, her Lumina power so pure, so bright, so easy to target.
"My King," a tiny, high-pitched voice chirped in his ear. It was Fang, in his spiritual dragon form, zipping around Null's head. "The enemy is focused on the city's defense force. The main breach is at the Spire. We must prioritize the objective."
Null nodded, but his mind was on the streets below, on the civilians running in terror. He couldn't just abandon them. "Fang, stay with Sooji. Protect her."
"As you wish, My King," Fang replied, a rare note of seriousness in his tiny voice. He darted away, a flash of red and gold, to join Sooji's side, his presence a subtle, reassuring strength.
They reached the base of the Glass Spire, a towering monument to technology and mystical power. The lobby was in ruins, its magnificent glass walls shattered. A horde of the stone creatures, their numbers overwhelming, guarded the entrance. But they weren't the main threat. Null could feel the presence of a greater power inside.
"I'll hold them off," Kai said, his bow already notched with an arrow that crackled with silent energy. "You three get inside."
"We're a team, Kai," Null protested, but Kai was already a blur of motion, leaping into the fray with a hunter's primal scream. He was a single, disciplined weapon against a wave of monsters, and he was holding his own. Null hesitated for a moment, torn, but he knew Kai was right. They had to stop the source.
They fought their way into the Spire, its once pristine interior a scene of devastation. A figure stood in the center of the repository, a place of immense power where hundreds of Prime Stones hummed with energy. He was tall, clad in a sleek, black suit of armor, and his presence was a vortex of oppressive stillness. This was not a mindless creature; this was a warrior of the Stone King.
"Welcome, Unwritten King," the figure said, his voice a cold, mechanical hiss. "My name is Silas. I've been waiting for you."
Silas didn't move, but a surge of dark energy erupted from his hands, coalescing into a grotesque, pulsing orb of pure, negative force. It was a corrupting bomb, a temporal weapon designed to poison every Prime Stone in the repository, turning the city's source of power into a fountain of chaos.
"You're not going to win this," Null said, stepping forward, his sword glowing.
"This isn't about winning," Silas said, a cruel smile spreading across his lips. "It's about sowing chaos. The King of Stones doesn't want this city. He wants to see you break. And I'm just the one to light the match."
Silas threw the orb toward the repository, a slow, deliberate act of pure malice. Null reacted instantly, a blur of speed and power. He was not going to let this happen. He summoned his own Umbros energy, a dark, protective shield of shadow that wrapped around the orb, trying to contain its poison.
But the energy of the orb was more powerful than he anticipated. It was the same energy that had corrupted the Echoes, a primordial darkness that was the opposite of Lumina. Null felt its poison seep into his shield, and he knew he couldn't hold it for long.
"Null, no!" Sooji cried, her voice filled with panic. She moved without thinking, her Lumina power flaring to life. A brilliant, blinding white light erupted from her, a wave of pure life energy that slammed into the corrupting orb. The two forces, life and malice, met in a furious explosion of light and shadow.
The force of the blast was immense. Null was thrown backward, crashing into a wall. The repository's containment systems flickered and died. Sooji, however, was caught in the center of it. The conflicting energies tore at her, her pure Lumina light fighting a losing battle against the overwhelming darkness. She screamed, a sound of agony that tore at Null's heart.
"Sooji!" Null screamed, his voice a guttural cry of pure anguish.
The prophecy. It was happening.
Silas, the stone warrior, laughed. "A beautiful sacrifice. The light is always the first to burn."
But he hadn't accounted for Ashley. The normally grounded and calm warrior was now a force of unleashed fury. The Glacial Behemoth power, a force of primordial ice, erupted from her, a blinding, frigid storm that slammed into Silas. The stone warrior was a solid statue, frozen in a block of ice, his mocking laugh still on his lips.
"You will pay for this," Ashley said, her voice a low growl. The ice began to crack, and Silas, still smiling, began to shatter.
Null scrambled to his feet, his body screaming in protest. He rushed to Sooji's side, falling to his knees beside her. She was barely conscious, her body radiating a strange, flickering light. The pure white of her Lumina was tainted with streaks of black, like cracks in a porcelain doll. Her eyes fluttered open, looking at him with a sad, serene calm.
"I... I had to try," she whispered, her voice fading.
"No, no, you're not going anywhere," Null said, his voice shaking. The prophecy was screaming in his ears, a nightmare made real. He took her hand, and the moment he touched her, her light flickered out completely. She wasn't gone, but her light was. She had fallen into a deep, unending coma, her spirit shattered, her body a fragile shell.
The shock was a physical thing. Null's world went silent, the chaos of the battle outside muted to a distant hum. His gaze, once filled with regal purpose, was now hollowed out, a vacant emptiness where a king's soul should be. The prophecy had come true. He had lost someone.
His rage, a black, bottomless well, erupted. The Umbros power, his father's corrupting legacy, consumed him completely. The world around him twisted into a vortex of shadow and fury. The air turned cold, the lights in the Spire shattered, and Null, the Unwritten King, was now a specter of pure vengeance, standing over the fragile, comatose body of his fallen friend.
A chilling, resonant sound, a mix of a growl and a roar, erupted from him, shattering the remaining glass in the Spire. The air grew heavy, and the shadows in the room writhed and twisted, reaching out as if to consume everything. Null knelt, placing a hand on Sooji's chest, his rage focused into a singular, desperate goal.
"I will not let you go," he whispered, his voice a low rumble. He focused the entirety of his will, his grief, and his anger into a single point, attempting to channel the healing light of Asura to mend Sooji's broken spirit. But the power was corrupted. The pure, life-giving light was tainted by the black poison of darkness and the lingering malice from the Archon's orb. Instead of a warm glow, a cold, dark energy pulsed from his hand, a painful parody of a miracle. The energy, his father's true gift, was meant to heal, but his rage had turned it into a weapon. It was not enough. She remained a fragile, lifeless shell.
A furious roar of frustration tore from Null's throat. The shadows around him coalesced, solidifying into a twisted, grotesque sphere. From the depths of the shadows, a grotesque house began to form, its walls made of pure darkness, its windows screaming voids. This was a new ability, born of his rage and his grief, a reality-bending power from the true Unwritten Form. This was his Death House.
"They will pay," Null snarled, his eyes fixed on the now-damaged Prime Stone repository. He rose to his feet, and the shadows stretched out behind him, his new form a terrifying silhouette of pure power.
Suddenly, a voice, a small, tiny whisper in his ear, pulled him back from the brink of oblivion. It was Fang, in his miniature draconic form, perched on his shoulder. "My King, they're retreating. The warning shot is over."
As if on cue, the dimensional tear in the sky began to shrink, the stone creatures falling into dust as their connection to the portal was severed. The attack was over. Null's rage, though still a black fire in his soul, had to be controlled. He turned to Ashley, who was kneeling beside Sooji, her face streaked with tears.
Just then, a booming, distorted voice echoed from the last remaining stone creature, a final, horrifying message before it dissolved. "The first wave is over, but the harvest begins. We will take your people. We will take their Prime Stones. Your despair is the only thing strong enough to power our master's next ritual. This is only the beginning."
A chilling understanding washed over Null. The attack on the city wasn't about destruction; it was a distraction. It was a test. A way to sow chaos and identify their next targets. They were kidnapping people for their stones, to use their power for a darker purpose.
"We have to take her back," Null said, his voice a chilling monotone. "Now."
Far away, in a training room of cold stone and steel, a man with stark white hair and burning red eyes moved with a frightening intensity. His form was a whirlwind of motion, his hands weaving complex patterns in the air, summoning shadows that danced and twisted to his command. This was Aris, the Stone King's second-hand and a master commander, his loyalty as deep as his skill. He was the one who crashed many during the war back then, and the one who commanded everyone with the original Unwritten King vs the King was him.
His face, normally a mask of calm determination, was now a portrait of focused rage. He was not just practicing; he was perfecting. The shadows, his power, responded to his will with a frightening obedience. A single thought from him could summon a shadow blade, a wall of darkness, a crushing vortex of malice. He was mastering the very abilities that the Archon of Malice sought to corrupt in Null.
His eyes, a vibrant, terrifying crimson, burned with an unspoken purpose. He was ready for the war to begin, a war that he knew was coming soon, a war that would be far greater than any the world had ever seen. He was ready to face the Unwritten King, a foe whose power was a mirror of his own. The time for training was coming to an end, and the time for battle was about to begin.
Far away, in a dimension of jagged obsidian and molten rock, a throne of pure, solidified malice sat in a chamber of fire and shadow. The air was thick with the scent of brimstone and a palpable sense of utter malevolence. On the throne sat a being whose very form seemed to absorb all light, a figure of immense, raw power. His face was a mask of cold, unblinking authority, and atop his head sat a crown of seven jagged horns. He was known only as the Archon of Malice or Satan, a being older than worlds, older than the very concept of good and evil.
A man, his body covered in scars of ancient battles and clad in a heavy suit of stone armor, knelt before him. But his armor was not the point of focus. The man's face was a study in cold, handsome perfection: reddish hair, sharp grey eyes that held a chilling intelligence, and chiseled features that would be considered regal and handsome if not for the cruel smile on his lips. He was clad in royal clothing that was both elegant and menacing. This was the Stone King, a figure of immense power, and a conqueror of worlds. As he knelt, his empty left sleeve, pinned neatly to his side, was a brutal reminder of a past conflict. It was a scar left by the original Unwritten King, a trophy of a battle that had shaped the future.
"The harvest has begun," the Stone King said, his voice a low, gravelly sound. "My soldier, Silas, was successful. The warning shot has been fired."
The Archon of Malice didn't move, his voice a sound that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once, a resonance of pure evil. "Good. The boy has lost his light. He has lost his balance. Let his grief consume him. He is playing into our hands."
"He will come for us," the Stone King said, his voice a low, chilling purr that held the weight of a true commander. "His rage will be a storm. He wields the Umbros power, but he does not truly understand it yet. The boy's power is only a shadow of my own." He looked down at his missing hand. "The son will be a far easier foe than the father."
The Archon of Malice finally moved, a slow, deliberate raising of his hand. His power was a palpable thing, a pressure that made the Stone King tremble. "Let him come. Let his rage consume him. The Echoes are not meant to make him whole. They are meant to break him, to twist him, to corrupt the Umbros power his father, the fool, left behind. We will use him as a weapon, and his despair will power my ritual."
The Archon of Malice slowly stood, his immense form blotting out the chamber's light. "The real game has just begun. Let him grieve. It will only make the victory that much sweeter. The world will soon bend to my will, and all will fall to the rule of the Archon of Malice. The war is coming, and it is a war the heroes were already losing."
He laughed, a sound of profound evil that echoed through the chamber, a promise of a new kind of terror. The war was coming, and the hero was unknowingly fighting against a much larger, more terrifying enemy than he could ever have imagined..
End of volume 3
See you next mouth thank you for this journey