Kael awoke to the sound of wind.
Not the gentle breeze that whispered through Starveil Garden, nor the warm currents that carried the scent of flowers and sunlight. This wind howled—raw and sharp, carrying grit and ash that scraped against his skin like tiny blades.
His eyes fluttered open.
The sky above him was a dull iron-gray, layered with drifting clouds that moved too fast, as if chased by something unseen. Massive shadows passed overhead—floating landmasses, suspended impossibly in the air, their undersides jagged and broken like the remains of shattered continents.
For a moment, Kael didn't understand.
Then memory crashed into him.
Fire.
Blood.
His mother's lifeless eyes.
Lira's scream.
He bolted upright with a choked gasp, hand flying to his chest.
Pain exploded outward.
It felt as if something had branded him from the inside—searing heat radiating from beneath his sternum, pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat. Kael tore open his tunic with shaking fingers.
There, embedded in his flesh, was the crystal.
The Aetheric Relic was no longer something he held.
It had become him.
Veins of faint crimson light spread from it like cracks in glass, pulsing softly beneath his skin. Each pulse sent a wave of nausea and vertigo through his body, followed by a surge of raw, volatile energy that made his muscles twitch.
"No… no, no…" Kael whispered.
He tried to pull it free.
Agony flared—white-hot, blinding. His scream was torn from him as his fingers brushed the crystal. It didn't budge. Instead, the light flared brighter, flooding his vision with red.
Images flickered through his mind.
A burning city.
A sky torn open.
Eyes watching from beyond the rift.
Kael collapsed onto his side, retching violently. Nothing came up but bile and blood.
When the pain finally eased, he lay there gasping, staring at the alien sky, tears streaking down his dust-covered face.
"I'm sorry," he whispered hoarsely, though he didn't know who he was apologizing to anymore. "I couldn't… I couldn't protect anyone."
The wind answered with silence.
He forced himself to his feet.
The land around him was nothing like Aeloria. Jagged black stone stretched in every direction, broken by patches of twisted vegetation that glowed faintly with bioluminescent hues. In the distance, massive spires of rock rose toward the sky, chained together by colossal metal bridges that connected floating citadels miles above the ground.
Zytherion.
Though he had never heard the name before, the truth settled into him with cold certainty.
This was not his world.
His legs trembled as he took a step forward. The ground felt wrong—too dense, humming faintly beneath his boots as if saturated with unstable mana. Every breath tasted metallic, heavy with something sharp and unnatural.
A low growl echoed nearby.
Kael froze.
From behind a cluster of glowing thorn-bushes emerged a creature roughly the size of a wolf—but twisted. Its hide was a patchwork of black scales and matted fur, eyes burning amber with feral intelligence. Mana crackled faintly around its fangs as it snarled.
A monster.
Kael's heart slammed against his ribs. He had no weapon. No training for this. His body still ached from the portal's aftermath.
The creature lunged.
Kael reacted on instinct, throwing his arms up to shield himself.
The relic pulsed.
Heat surged through his veins like liquid fire. Power—violent and untamed—erupted outward in a shockwave. The air screamed as crimson flames burst from Kael's body, engulfing the creature mid-leap.
The monster didn't even have time to cry out.
It disintegrated.
Ash rained to the ground, drifting around Kael in slow, horrified spirals.
He stared at his hands.
They were trembling violently, faint embers clinging to his fingers before fading into nothing.
"What… did I do?" he whispered.
The answer terrified him.
Whatever power the relic had awakened—it was not gentle. It was born from rage, from grief, from something dark that clawed its way up from the depths of his soul.
His knees buckled.
The world tilted, vision blurring as exhaustion slammed into him like a wall. The last thing Kael felt before darkness claimed him was the relic's heat flaring once more—almost eagerly.
"Hey—hey! Don't die on me!"
A voice cut through the void.
Kael groaned faintly, half-aware of rough hands shaking his shoulder. His body felt unbearably heavy, every muscle screaming in protest as he struggled to open his eyes.
Light filtered through blurred shapes.
A girl hovered above him, her face smudged with dirt and grease, short dark hair tied back messily. She couldn't have been much older than him. Her clothes were patched and worn, a scavenger's satchel slung over one shoulder.
"Thank the skies," she muttered. "I thought you were another corpse."
Kael tried to sit up—and immediately regretted it.
"Don't move," the girl snapped. "You collapsed right after setting half the clearing on fire."
His heart skipped. "Fire?"
She snorted. "You don't remember? Figures."
She glanced around nervously, lowering her voice. "Demons have been prowling this area all day. Whatever you did earlier—it lit up the wilds like a signal flare."
Kael swallowed hard. "Where… am I?"
The girl hesitated, studying his face. Something in her expression shifted—pity, maybe.
"You're in Zytherion," she said quietly. "And judging by that thing glowing in your chest… you're in trouble."
Kael followed her gaze.
The relic pulsed faintly beneath his skin, its light impossible to hide.
"I didn't choose this," he said hoarsely.
She sighed. "None of us ever do."
A distant roar echoed through the forest—deep, resonant, unmistakably demonic.
The girl's eyes widened. "That's not good."
She grabbed Kael under the arm, hauling him upright despite his weak protest. "Can you walk?"
"I… I think so."
"Good. Because if they find you again—"
The ground shook.
From between the trees emerged figures cloaked in shadow, their forms warped and elongated. One stepped forward, its presence crushing, eyes glowing a sickly violet.
A mark burned itself into the air—an abyssal sigil.
The demon tilted its head, voice slithering into Kael's mind.
"Relic-Bearer found."
Pain exploded in Kael's chest as the mark seared itself onto his soul.
The girl cursed under her breath. "They've marked you."
She tightened her grip on him. "Run. Now."
As they fled into the twisted wilds, Kael felt the relic thrum with dark anticipation.
Somewhere far away—
Something had learned his name.
A demonic mark burns into Kael's fate, and the hunt for the Relic-Bearer has begun.