Alexander awoke to fire.
Not fire of earth, nor flame of war, but fire that bled from the very fabric of the void. The ground beneath him was black glass, cracked and steaming, and overhead stretched a sky of rotting stars. Each one pulsed like a dying heart, spilling light too dim to chase the shadows.
He pushed himself upright, his body trembling. The mark on his chest—where the throne's power had struck him—still burned, the shape of the crown seared into his flesh.
And yet, he lived.
More than that—something in him had changed.
The void shifted as though it felt his presence, whispers gnawing at the edges of his thoughts. Gatebreaker, they hissed. The unwanted name. The cursed truth.
Alexander spat onto the glass ground, forcing himself to his feet.
"I don't care what you call me. I'm here for her."
---
The Road of Broken Kings
A path stretched before him, forged of shattered crowns. Golden fragments floated midair, suspended like stars, each one carved with names long forgotten. Some whispered as he passed, voices full of agony and madness.
He forced himself to look at one shard.
A king's face shimmered within, mouth open in endless screaming, his crown fused into his skull. Alexander turned away, jaw tight.
This was not a road meant for mortals. It was a graveyard of rulers who had tried—and failed—to take the power of the Endless King. And yet, his feet moved forward, each step echoing across eternity.
Something within him pulsed, a strength that wasn't there before. Not power granted—power awakened. He remembered the moment Isabella had been taken, the crown fastening itself upon her. His rage, his desperation, his refusal to fall… it had sparked something primal, something older than the throne itself.
The Gatebreaker but what did it mean?
---
The Hunter in the Dark
A growl cut through the silence.
Alexander froze, hand tightening on the hilt of his blade. From the endless shadows around him, shapes stirred. Tall, twisted beasts, their limbs too long, their crowns broken and melted into bone. They reeked of rot and sorrow, eyes burning like coals in skulls without flesh.
The nearest one stepped forward, its jaw unhinging to speak in a dozen overlapping voices.
> "He walks the road… a mortal unbound. Break him. Feed him to the Gate."
The creatures lunged.
Alexander drew steel, and his blade burst with pale fire the moment it left its sheath. The beasts shrieked as the light struck them, their shadows writhing like worms in salt. He slashed once, twice—each swing cutting deeper than steel should, the fire tearing through the creatures' corruption.
The last one fell hissing, its black blood seeping into the cracked ground. Alexander staggered back, staring at his sword.
The fire still burned. His fire.
The Gatebreaker's fire.
---
The Whisper of Her Name
As the last beast dissolved, the void fell silent. Alexander's chest heaved, and in that silence… he heard it.
A voice.
Faint. Chained. Breaking.
"Alexander…"
Isabella.
His breath caught, every nerve in his body screaming to run forward, to tear through the void until he found her. He gripped his blade tighter, his voice a snarl against the darkness.
"Hold on, Isabella. I'm coming."
The ground shook violently, as though the void itself hated the sound of her name. Above, one of the rotting stars cracked and fell, streaking across the black sky like a dying ember.
And in its fall, a door began to form ahead of him—tall, monstrous, carved with a crown split down the center.
The Second Gate.
Alexander's fire flared.
The void roared.
And somewhere beyond that gate, Isabella screamed.