The battlefield lay silent. Ash and fragments of Kalarak essence drifted in the dim orange sky, carried by the cold evening breeze. The stench of destruction lingered—a haunting reminder of what just happened.
Twelve figures stood in a perfect arc behind the man who had saved them. Rudraen. His aura wasn't violent like the Kalaraks; it was disciplined, like a blade sheathed but ready to strike. The sheer presence of his squad made the air feel heavier.
Ariv stared at them, breathing hard. His fists clenched tightly as the locket around his neck pulsed faintly, glowing for a brief second before calming. He didn't know why, but something about that glow made Rudraen's eyes sharpen for an instant.
"Who… are they?" Vaishnavi's voice trembled as she spoke, her gaze flickering between the armored warriors and Rudraen.
Neel stayed silent, his usual calm expression concealing a thousand thoughts. He knew this wasn't just another battle. This was a turning point.
Rudraen finally spoke, his tone calm yet commanding.
"You've survived this far… Ariv. But your story in this realm is over."
Ariv frowned. "What do you mean by that?"
Rudraen's boots crunched against the broken earth as he stepped closer. His eyes—sharp, calculating—locked onto Ariv's golden star-shaped pupils.
"The Queen of Veils herself has summoned you. You're coming with me… to Aethrion."
The name hit like a distant echo of thunder.
Aethrion…? The word alone felt heavy, ancient. Like it had existed since before time.
Vaishnavi blinked in shock. Rohit's mouth fell open. Even the cold wind seemed to pause for a moment.
Ariv's brows knitted together, anger flickering in his eyes. "The Queen of… what? And why should I go anywhere with you?"
Rudraen's tone didn't change. Calm. Unyielding.
"Because you carry Galaxy Zenith. The most dominant Veil ever forged. Its presence alone disrupts the Veil System. That makes you… an anomaly the Queen cannot ignore."
Ariv felt a chill run down his spine. Anomaly? Because of this mark on my back… and this cursed locket?
He opened his mouth to argue, but Neel's voice cut through the tension like steel.
"This isn't a request, Ariv. If you refuse… they'll send others. Stronger than Rudraen. And when they do, this world will become your grave."
Vaishnavi turned toward Neel, stunned. "Neel… how do you even know—"
"Later," he interrupted, his tone sharp but controlled. His eyes remained fixed on Rudraen, as if reading every move.
Rudraen ignored the side chatter and continued, his voice steady:
"Aethrion isn't just a place. It's the core of existence. The birthplace of the Veils. The Queen of Veils rules that realm—and every bearer of a Veil is bound by her law. Whether they like it or not."
"The Queen…" Rohit muttered, struggling to process. "So… she's like… a god?"
Rudraen's lips curved slightly.
"A god? No. Something far above that. Gods kneel where she stands."
The silence that followed was suffocating. Ariv felt the weight of every word pressing against his chest. He clenched the locket in his hand so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Its surface was cold, yet it pulsed faintly—like a heartbeat.
Finally, he spoke, his voice low but firm:
"And if I refuse?"
Rudraen's eyes hardened.
"Then this world will collapse under the Queen's wrath. Her decree is law, Ariv. You don't get a choice."
Vaishnavi stepped forward, her voice soft but urgent.
"Ariv… maybe this is the only way. Maybe you'll find answers there. About everything."
Ariv looked at her, then at Rohit, then finally at Neel. His friend's expression was unreadable—calm, but his eyes held something… dangerous. Something he wasn't saying.
Ariv turned back to Rudraen, his jaw tight.
"Fine. I'll meet your Queen. But on my terms."
Rudraen smirked faintly, turning his back to them.
"Terms? You'll learn soon enough that in Aethrion… only one law matters. Hers."
He raised his hand. The ground trembled. A circle of runes burst into existence, spinning in mid-air as raw energy crackled within. Light exploded outward as the Veil Gate opened—a shimmering vortex of blinding white and deep violet, humming with a force older than time itself.
The twelve warriors moved in unison, forming a protective arc as the gate expanded, the sound of rushing wind echoing like a roar from another world.
Ariv's heart pounded. He knew this moment would change everything. His life in the mortal world was ending—whether he wanted it or not.