Renn Varn did not sleep.
He stood at the edge of an abandoned watchtower overlooking the lowlands, the world stretched beneath him like a map waiting to be redrawn. The night air pressed against his skin, colder than it should have been, but he welcomed it. Cold meant awareness. Cold meant awake.
Behind him, the remnants of the Gilded Fang sat in uneasy silence.
Cressa leaned against a broken wall, spear grounded, posture rigid. She had not spoken since Borin fell. Her eyes tracked Renn constantly now—not with trust, not with loyalty, but with the sharp vigilance of someone who knew they had made the wrong turn and was still deciding whether to walk back.
Halvek sat on a stone block, hammer across his knees, head bowed. His hands trembled faintly. Whether from fear or rage, Renn couldn't yet tell.
Joryn paced like a caged animal, muttering to himself, fingers clawing at his hair.
Renn smiled faintly.
Power always did this first.
It sorted people.
"You didn't have to cut him," Cressa said at last. Her voice was flat, scraped raw by hours of silence.
Renn didn't turn. "I didn't intend to."
"That doesn't matter," Halvek snapped, finally looking up. "You did."
Renn glanced back, eyes sharp. "And yet he lives."
"That's not the point," Halvek growled. "He trusted us."
Renn tilted his head. "Trust is inefficient."
Joryn stopped pacing. "He saved her," he whispered. "He saved Nyx."
Renn studied Joryn for a long moment, then nodded once. "Yes. He did."
Joryn's eyes flared with anger. "And you almost killed him."
Renn stepped closer, boots crunching softly on stone. "And what did you do, Joryn?"
Joryn flinched. "I—"
"You followed," Renn finished calmly. "You stayed. You ran when I told you to run."
He leaned in slightly. "You're alive because I allowed it."
Joryn's breath hitched.
Renn straightened and turned back toward the view.
"Listen to me," Renn said. "The world is changing faster than the Registry can lie about it. Doors are opening whether we want them to or not. Beasts are learning. Breaches are stabilizing."
He rested a hand on the hilt of his sword.
"And something on the other side noticed me."
Cressa stiffened. "That thing was not a god."
Renn smiled. "No. Gods demand worship. This demanded choice."
Halvek stood abruptly. "You let it touch you."
"Yes," Renn said easily.
"And it changed you," Halvek said.
Renn turned slowly.
"Of course it did," he replied. "That's what power does."
He drew the sword partway from its sheath.
The blade no longer gleamed gold.
It drank the moonlight, edges darkened with something like shadowed flame, runes crawling slowly beneath the surface as if alive.
Joryn stumbled back. "Renn… what is that?"
Renn slid the blade fully free.
"This," he said softly, "is permission."
The air bent slightly around the sword.
Not violently.
Respectfully.
Halvek swallowed. "You opened yourself."
Renn nodded. "And it answered."
Cressa's voice shook despite her control. "At what cost?"
Renn studied her, really studied her, and for a heartbeat something like regret passed across his face.
"Cost comes later," he said. "Right now, there is only advantage."
Joryn shook his head frantically. "This isn't hunting anymore."
Renn stepped toward him, close enough that Joryn could feel the unnatural chill radiating from the blade.
"No," Renn agreed. "It's leadership."
Joryn backed away. "I didn't sign up for this."
Renn's voice dropped. "You signed up the moment you followed me past the first door."
The air shifted again.
Subtle.
Heavy.
Cressa felt it and raised her spear instinctively. "Renn—"
Too late.
The thing answered.
Not fully.
Not manifesting.
But present.
A pressure settled around the watchtower, like the world leaning inward to listen.
YOU OPEN AGAIN.
Joryn screamed.
Halvek dropped to one knee, teeth clenched as if resisting a crushing weight.
Cressa held her ground, spear trembling.
Renn breathed it in.
"Yes," he whispered. "I am ready."
The pressure focused—not on Renn.
On the others.
Joryn collapsed, gasping, clutching his chest as shadows curled briefly around his wrists like invisible manacles.
Halvek cried out as his hammer vibrated violently, veins in his arms standing out as if something were pulling at him from the inside.
Cressa staggered, one knee hitting stone.
"Stop it!" she shouted. "You're breaking them!"
Renn hesitated.
Just long enough.
The pressure eased.
Joryn lay sobbing. Halvek slumped forward, breathing ragged. Cressa stared at Renn like she was seeing him clearly for the first time.
Renn sheathed the sword slowly.
"You see?" he said quietly. "It listens to me."
Cressa's voice was hoarse. "You didn't just take power."
Renn met her gaze. "I earned it."
She shook her head. "You enslaved us."
Renn stepped back, expression cooling. "No."
He looked at each of them in turn.
"I gave you a choice."
Silence.
Then Halvek spoke, voice hollow. "And if we choose to leave?"
Renn's smile faded.
The night grew colder.
"You won't," he said softly.
And they all understood that this was not confidence.
It was certainty.
II — The Cage
Blackhollow Keep had never felt so small.
Kael stood at the narrow window of his assigned quarters, hands resting on the stone sill, staring out at the training yard below. Hunters moved through drills, weapons flashing, voices raised in familiar cadence.
He was not among them.
The Mark pulsed faintly under his skin, restless, like a hunting animal locked behind ribs.
Restricted.
Contained.
Maelor's word echoed bitterly in his mind.
Behind him, the door creaked.
Nyx entered quietly, her steps careful, as if loud movement might break him.
"You're not supposed to be at the window," she said.
Kael didn't turn. "I'm not supposed to be anywhere."
She leaned against the wall, arms folded. "Borin asked for you."
Kael's shoulders tightened. "Can't."
Nyx swallowed. "He's awake."
Kael turned then.
"How is he?"
She hesitated. "Alive. Angry. In pain. Asking why you're not there."
Kael closed his eyes briefly. "Tell him I'm being… useful."
Nyx scoffed. "That's a lie."
"Yes," Kael agreed. "But it's kinder than the truth."
She pushed off the wall and stepped closer. "You didn't do this."
Kael opened his eyes. "I know."
"But they don't," Nyx said. "The Registry sees escalation and blames the spark."
Kael's jaw clenched. "And you?"
Nyx didn't hesitate. "I see someone they're afraid of."
Kael gave a humorless smile. "So do I."
She stepped closer, voice lowering. "Something's wrong. Elyra feels it. I feel it. Like pressure under the Keep."
Kael's Mark stirred sharply at her words.
"Where?" he asked.
Nyx shook her head. "Everywhere. Nowhere."
Kael turned back to the window, scanning the yard, the walls, the stone beneath their feet.
The Mark pulsed again.
Harder.
"Nyx," he said quietly. "Get Elyra."
She frowned. "Kael—"
"Now."
She didn't argue.
III — The Breach No One Wanted
The first scream came from below the eastern wing.
Not a trainee.
Not panic.
Pain.
Kael felt it before he heard it—the Mark flaring violently, heat ripping through his shoulders like a brand pressed fresh.
He staggered back from the window as the stone beneath his feet shifted.
Not cracked.
Shifted.
Elyra burst into the room seconds later, eyes wide, breath shallow. "It's here."
Nyx was already drawing blades. "Where?"
Elyra's voice shook. "Under the Keep."
The floor trembled.
Somewhere deep below Blackhollow, something answered.
A low, grinding sound rolled through the stone, ancient and deliberate, like a lock turning after centuries of stillness.
Kael grabbed his bow.
A guard burst in. "You're restricted—"
The floor split.
Not wide.
Just enough.
A seam opened along the wall, thin and precise, the same wrong line Kael had seen before—but closer.
Closer than ever.
The air poured inward.
Cold.
Hungry.
Nyx cursed. "Tell me this isn't what I think it is."
Elyra whispered, horror-struck. "It's not a door."
The seam widened slightly.
"It's a hinge."
The pressure hit.
Hunters in the corridor cried out as the world bent around them, knees buckling, weapons clattering.
Kael felt the Mark surge, screaming do something.
He stepped forward.
The guard grabbed him. "You're confined!"
Kael shook him off. "Then confine the breach instead."
The seam pulsed in response to Kael's proximity, as if recognizing him.
Elyra grabbed his arm. "If you touch it—"
"I know," Kael said.
Nyx stepped in front of him. "No. I won't let anything happen to you."
Kael met her eyes. "You already did."
The floor buckled again.
A hand pushed through the seam.
Not fully formed.
Not solid.
But reaching.
A scream echoed from deeper in the Keep.
Elyra gasped. "Someone's trapped!"
Kael didn't hesitate.
He drew an arrow and planted his feet.
The Mark burned—hot, commanding, furious.
"This is why they chained it," Kael said through clenched teeth. "And this is why they can't keep me locked up."
Nyx's voice broke. "You don't have to do this alone."
Kael loosed.
The arrow struck the seam dead center.
The impact sent a shockwave through the corridor, hurling Kael backward into the wall as the air screamed and folded inward.
Stone cracked.
The reaching hand recoiled.
The seam shrank—but did not close.
Kael slid to the floor, breath knocked from his lungs, vision swimming.
Nyx was there instantly, hands on his shoulders. "Kael! Kael—stay with me."
He coughed, forcing air back into his lungs. "Still… here."
Elyra dropped beside them, chanting desperately, blood trickling from her nose as she poured power she could not afford into stabilizing the space.
The seam writhed, resisting.
And then—
It answered.
Not Kael.
Not Elyra.
Something else.
Far away.
Renn.
IV — The Echo
At the watchtower, Renn stiffened.
The sword sang.
Not audibly.
Internally.
He smiled slowly.
"Ah," he murmured. "There you are."
Cressa's head snapped up. "What did you do?"
Renn didn't answer.
He closed his eyes.
And pushed.
Back in Blackhollow, the seam flared violently.
The pressure doubled.
Hunters screamed as the corridor walls cracked, stone shearing away like bark.
Nyx screamed Kael's name.
Elyra cried out as a memory tore loose—her mother's face, gone in an instant.
The seam widened—
And then stopped.
Because Kael forced himself upright.
The Mark blazed.
Not reacting.
Responding.
"No," Kael whispered.
He raised his bow again, blood running from his nose now, vision blurring.
"You don't get this place," he growled. "You don't get them."
He loosed again.
The arrow didn't just strike the seam.
It struck through it.
The corridor exploded with light and pressure as the hinge snapped shut violently, stone slamming back into place with a thunderous crack that echoed through the entire Keep.
Silence.
Then—
Stillness.
Kael collapsed.
Nyx caught him.
Elyra fell forward, shaking, sobbing silently.
Guards and hunters poured into the corridor moments later, chaos erupting as medics rushed in and shouted orders clashed.
Maelor arrived last.
She took in the shattered stone.
The blood.
Kael unconscious in Nyx's arms.
The sealed seam.
And she understood.
Seln arrived seconds later.
Her expression didn't change.
But her eyes did.
"You disobeyed direct restriction," Seln said coldly.
Maelor rounded on her. "He saved the Keep."
Seln's gaze stayed on Kael. "And confirmed every fear I had."
She turned.
"Double the restrictions," she said. "He is never to leave Blackhollow without escort again."
Nyx looked up, fury blazing. "You'd rather let the world burn than admit you're wrong."
Seln didn't respond.
Because somewhere far away, Renn Varn smiled into the night—
Knowing the door now opened from both sides.