Black sand sighed beneath Aiden's feet as he stood.
Every grain shimmered faintly, like crushed ash mixed with starlight. The air tasted metallic, dry, as if the atmosphere hadn't touched a living organism in centuries. Above them, a sky of fading crimson stretched endlessly—no clouds, no sun. Just a hollow canvas.
Lyra scanned the silent expanse with a trembling hand on her dagger.
"This place feels… wrong. Like the world is holding its breath."
Aidem didn't respond immediately.
He knelt and pressed his fingers into the sand.
His face drained of color.
"These particles… they're memory dust."
Aiden frowned. "Memory of what?"
Aidem swallowed.
"Everything. Cities. People. Stories. Whole timelines. When a world blinks out of existence, what little remains ends up here. Compressed. Ground down."
Aiden stared at the endless black dunes.
"So we're standing on the remains of… entire civilizations?"
Aidem nodded silently.
Lyra hugged herself, her voice barely audible.
"A place made of lost worlds… but why is it so quiet?"
Aidem's eyes darkened.
"Because something here is listening."
---
THE SOUND UNDER THE SAND
A distant rumble rolled across the land—deep, slow, deliberate.
Aiden froze.
"That sound… that wasn't natural."
Aidem shook his head. "Stay close. There are things here that were erased, but not destroyed."
Lyra stiffened. "How does that even make sense?"
Aidem answered quietly:
"Some beings are too stubborn—or too cursed—to disappear completely. They linger in the Graveyard. Twisted. Hungry."
Aiden felt a cold sweat drip down his back.
"So there are monsters here?"
"No," Aidem said. "Not monsters."
He met Aiden's eyes.
"Remnants."
The sand behind them shifted.
Aiden's heart leapt. "Aidem…"
"I hear it," Aidem whispered.
Something was moving beneath the surface—slowly circling them.
Lyra stepped closer to Aiden. "Tell me that's not one of those 'remnants.'"
"It is," Aidem said grimly. "And it's huge."
---
THE REMNANT EMERGES
The ground burst open.
Black sand erupted like a geyser as something massive and pale surged upward—a serpentine spinal structure, riddled with cracks, its surface pulsing with faint blue veins like dying circuits.
Lyra screamed and dragged Aiden back.
A hollow skull—elongated, animal-like yet impossibly ancient—rose from the sand, jaws unhinging in a shriek that distorted the air.
Aiden felt his ears burn.
His vision warped.
"What—WHAT IS IT?!"
Aidem raised both hands, conjuring violet geometric shields around them.
"A Remnant Leviathan. A world-eater stripped of its flesh. It devours memories, not bodies."
Lyra's eyes widened. "So what does it want with us?!"
Aidem's expression turned grim.
"…Your existence. Your story. It will erase you from memory."
The Leviathan dove toward them.
Fast.
---
AIDEN'S FEAR TURNS INTO SOMETHING ELSE
Aiden's legs moved before thought.
He grabbed Lyra, pulling her to the side as the Leviathan smashed into Aidem's shield—shattering it instantly. Aidem flew back, skidding across the sand.
"AIDEM!"
"I'm fine!" he shouted, though clearly not fine.
The skull swung toward Aiden.
He felt the pull—like invisible threads unwinding from his mind.
His memories.
His childhood.
His mother's face.
The first time he met Lyra.
All tugged away—
"No—NO! STOP!" Aiden roared.
Something inside him snapped open.
A symbol flared on his chest—one of the three ancient marks.
The King's Sigil.
Bright gold.
Blinding.
Lyra shielded her eyes. "Aiden—you're glowing!"
Aiden felt heat rush through him—familiar, violent, electric.
The Leviathan recoiled, releasing his memories.
Aiden staggered.
"What… was that?"
Aidem coughed, rising unsteadily. "Your King's Sigil is reacting to the Graveyard. The Lost King's power can't be erased—it's the only force here the Remnants fear."
The Leviathan shrieked again.
And lunged.
---
AIDEM'S WARNING
Aidem teleported between Aiden and the incoming skull, firing a barrage of violet spears.
"Run!" Aidem yelled. "Your awakening isn't stable yet—if you tap too deep, you'll collapse the entire Graveyard on top of us!"
"I can't just leave you—"
"You can," Aidem snapped. "And you will. The Graveyard bends to Kings. You're the only one who can navigate it."
Lyra grabbed Aiden's arm.
"Aiden. Listen. He's right. We have to move!"
Aiden clenched his teeth.
The Leviathan roared, sweeping its bony tail. Aidem was flung across the sand, tumbling violently.
"AIDEM!"
But Aidem's voice still reached him.
"We meet… at the Obsidian Spire…" he forced out, coughing up dust.
"Go. NOW."
---
THE PATH THAT WASN'T THERE BEFORE
The ground beneath Aiden's feet shifted.
Lines of glowing gold—his sigil's light reflected in the sand—formed a winding trail leading toward the horizon.
Lyra whispered, "It's… responding to you."
Aiden stared.
"I don't know how to control it."
"You don't have to," Lyra said, gripping his hand.
"Just follow."
Behind them, the Leviathan turned its skull toward Aidem, whose energy was flickering, fading.
Aiden made his choice.
He took a final look back—eyes burning with anger, guilt, and determination.
"Aidem… don't die."
Then he ran.
The golden path brightened with each step.
The Leviathan lifted its head.
And began to pursue.
---
THE GRAVEYARD CHANGES
As Aiden and Lyra sprinted, the desert shifted around them.
Ruins of broken cities rose from the sand.
Crumbled towers twisted sideways as if melted.
Fragments of stars hovered like drifting glass.
Shadow-paths flickered—false routes meant to mislead intruders.
Lyra gasped. "This place is alive."
Aiden shook his head.
"No. It's remembering."
And then—
A shadowy figure appeared ahead, cloaked in a shroud of broken timelines.
Aiden skidded to a halt.
Lyra's eyes widened in terror.
"Is that another Remnant?"
Aiden's heart slammed.
"No…"
Because he recognized the silhouette.
It looked like—
Him.
Aiden stepped back.
The figure raised its head.
Its eyes gleamed gold.
Just like his.
Lyra whispered, "Aiden… that's—"
The figure spoke in a hollow, echoing voice:
"I am the version of you that failed."
Aiden froze.
"And I won't let you succeed."