The sky cracked open like glass under pressure.
People looked up in horror as the sun vanished—devoured by a black moon that wasn't supposed to exist. The eclipse came without warning, defying every astronomical law. Darkness swept the world like a storm, drowning cities in eerie twilight.
In the heart of Arcanis, the last free city of the Old Kingdoms, seventeen-year-old Kairo Veyne stood frozen in the temple courtyard. The stone beneath his feet trembled, ancient runes glowing with a pulsing red light.
He felt it before he saw it—a cold wave rushing into his bones, a whisper scratching at the edges of his mind.
"Kairo!" someone shouted. It was Arien, his best friend. "Get away from there!"
But Kairo couldn't move.
Something was calling him.
A voice—deep, broken, familiar—echoed in his skull.
"Descendant of the Eclipse… the seal is breaking."
His eyes rolled back.
His body collapsed.
And everything turned black.
Kairo stumbled through the ruins, clutching his chest as the searing pain surged again. It was like something inside him was tearing apart. The ancient sigil on his wrist pulsed—no, it throbbed—with power, each beat syncing with the eclipse overhead.
"Wh-what is happening to me?" he gasped, falling to one knee.
Memories that weren't his flashed before his eyes—wars in realms made of shadows, a cloaked man wielding a blade made of starlight, a woman screaming his name as the darkness swallowed her whole.
He screamed. Not from pain, but from fear—fear of what he was becoming.
The winds howled, and from the heart of the eclipse, a black feather descended slowly, landing before him.
He touched it.
And everything stopped.
The world vanished. He now stood in a realm of endless night, stars hanging motionless in a void so deep it pulled at his soul.
"You finally woke up," a voice said. Deep, familiar, like a part of him.
A figure emerged—an exact replica of himself, but with glowing eyes and a grin that promised chaos.
"You're me...?" Kairo whispered.
"No," the doppelgänger replied, stepping closer. "I'm what you locked away. I am your legacy. Your curse. Your power."
Kairo tried to scream, but no sound came out.
The other Kairo—the dark one—circled him in the void, eyes glowing like molten stars.
"You've lived a borrowed life," it hissed. "But now... the inheritance must awaken."
Suddenly, searing pain exploded through Kairo's body. His veins burned, turning black beneath his skin. He dropped to his knees, clawing at his chest. Symbols—alien and ancient—carved themselves into his arms in threads of crimson fire.
The dark version of himself knelt beside him, whispering in his ear.
"You're not just human. You never were. You are the vessel."
Kairo's mind shattered like glass.
His body convulsed as black wings tore from his back—skeletal, dripping with shadow.
"No!" he roared, the voice not entirely his anymore.
A moment of silence.
Then a scream—a scream not his own, distant but real.
"Kairo! What the hell is happening to you?!"
It was Arien's voice.
The void cracked. Light rushed in like a tidal wave.
Kairo woke up.
He was back in the temple courtyard—on his knees, surrounded by shattered stone, with a ring of scorched earth around him. Arien stood a few feet away, eyes wide, trembling.
And then Kairo looked down at his hands.
They were still black.
Still not… human.
From deep within his mind, the dark voice returned—quiet, hungry, patient.
"This is only the beginning."