The walk to the Gathering was quiet. Too quiet for Kairis Ash's liking. His coat swayed behind him as he strode through the half-rebuilt streets of the stronghold. Citizens bowed their heads when he passed. Not out of reverence, but fear. He could feel it — eyes darting away, whispers cut short, mothers pulling their children back from the path.
He didn't blame them. He had felt that kind of weight before, years ago, when his father's coffin was lowered into the earth. That same heaviness now clung to him, only thicker, denser.
The weight of being Apostle of the Void.
The Network had spread the news. He hadn't spoken a word to confirm it, but they didn't need his approval. The brand of the Void lingered on him, undeniable. To the people, he wasn't just another awakened anymore. He was something else. Something dangerous.
Elyra had been the first to notice the change. That morning, before he left, she had pulled his sleeve and whispered, "You look different, Kairis. Not older. Not stronger. Just… untouchable."
He had only brushed her hair back and told her to keep Aeren safe. But her words gnawed at him even now.
The Gathering was held in the heart of the stronghold, an arena carved into the bones of a fallen skyscraper. Steel pillars reinforced the shattered concrete, glowing glyphs hummed faintly against the air. Hundreds of awakeners crowded the stands, their chatter a low thunder.
The ranking board floated above the center of the arena, letters carved in black fire:
Dragon Ranking – the first test of strength.
God Ranking – proof of dominion.
Abyssal Ranking – reserved for those touched directly by gods.
His name wasn't on the board yet. That was the purpose of today.
Kaiyara stood near the entrance, her expression unreadable. "They'll test you," she said softly. "Not just your strength. Your role. You're an Apostle now. You represent more than yourself."
Kairis snorted, pulling his coat tighter around him. "I represent no one. I fight for Elyra. For Aeren. That's it."
She studied him, as if she wanted to argue, then let it go.
Inside the arena, awakeners gathered in groups, each bearing the sigil of their chosen god. He saw apostles like himself — though their marks glowed with different hues. One radiated golden light, another shimmered with blue flame, one carried a halo of burning chains. Their eyes darted to him, some filled with curiosity, others with hostility.
The announcer's voice boomed, shaking the ground:
"Today, the Apostle of the Void joins the Gathering!"
Whispers erupted. Some laughed. Some cursed. Some only went silent.
Kairis stepped into the center, the glow of his purple-edged eyes piercing the dim. His boots echoed against the floor. He could feel every gaze on him, measuring, doubting, testing.
He tilted his head, voice low but carrying:
"Let's get this straight. I'm not here to impress any of you. I don't kneel to gods, I don't kneel to men, and I sure as hell won't kneel in this arena."
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Some called him arrogant. Some called him doomed.
Kairis just smirked. He wasn't here to be liked. He was here to climb.
Above, unseen to all but him, the Void stirred. He felt Lucien Dreamveil's presence brush against the edges of his mind — not words, not commands, but the weight of expectation.
The Apostle of the Void couldn't afford to belittle himself. Couldn't afford to show weakness.
He had no choice but to play the role.
But he would play it his way.