Russ stood in the heart of the training chamber, his knuckles bruised and blood dripping from his lip. Across from him, Elder Vareon adjusted his stance—still calm, still unreadable.
"You're hesitating," the elder said coldly, brushing dust from his shoulder. "Again."
Russ gritted his teeth. "Maybe because you keep punching me in the face before I can breathe."
Vareon didn't laugh. He never did.
"Pain is part of the lesson. Your enemies won't wait for you to think."
"I'm not fighting enemies right now," Russ growled. "I'm fighting a cranky old vampire who enjoys hitting kids."
A blur of motion. Vareon appeared behind Russ in an instant and swept his legs out from under him. Russ hit the ground with a painful thud, gasping.
"Stop acting like a child," Vareon said. "You are the son of Quinn Talen. You bear the mark of the Void. If you want to survive what's coming, you need to stop whining and start becoming what you were born to be."
"I didn't ask to be born into any of this!"
The words came out louder than Russ intended. For a moment, the chamber fell silent—only the distant hum of mana generators filled the air.
Vareon studied him, then slowly stepped back.
"No," he finally said. "You didn't. But your bloodline chose you the moment you awakened the system. That means you don't get to hide."
Russ sat up, wiping his nose. "I never wanted to hide. I just… wanted to be me. Not Quinn's shadow."
There was no mocking in Vareon's expression, only silence. Then he turned and walked toward the weapons rack lining the far wall.
"You misunderstand your father," he said as he picked up a dark-bladed training sword. "He was never powerful because of his system. He was powerful because he knew exactly who he was—and he fought for it, no matter what anyone else expected."
Vareon tossed the sword to Russ, who caught it clumsily.
"I'm not Quinn," Russ muttered.
"No," Vareon replied. "You're not. And that's exactly why you may survive."
A knock echoed from the steel door behind them. It slid open to reveal Meryl, breathless and clutching a blood-stained datapad.
"You need to see this," she said urgently, tossing it to Vareon.
The elder's eyes narrowed as he read the display. "A Nightbeast… sighted near the outskirts of Zone 14? That's impossible. Those things were wiped out after the Cataclysm."
"It gets worse," Meryl said. "The energy signature… it matches the Progenitor's. Slightly warped, but unmistakable."
Russ felt his blood run cold. "You think someone's using my dad's powers?"
"No," Vareon said grimly. "Worse. Something—or someone—is copying them."
The elder turned to Russ, his eyes sharp as blades.
"This is your trial, boy. Not a test of strength—but of purpose. If this thing carries even a fragment of Quinn's legacy, you must face it."
Russ tightened his grip on the sword. He wasn't ready. He'd never be ready.
But he also couldn't keep pretending the world wasn't watching him.
Heir of the Void, they whispered.
Time to find out what that really meant.