The screams did not last long.
Rain washed the blood from the street, but it could not wash away the fear clinging to District Nine. Shadows receded slowly, as if reluctant to release what they had tasted.
Kael stood alone among the bodies.
The Crown Authority soldiers lay broken—some crushed into the pavement, others twisted unnaturally, their expressions frozen in terror. The abyss inside him hummed softly, dissatisfied yet patient.
—More—
—This world has more—
"Enough," Kael muttered.
The whisper faded, retreating like a tide.
He exhaled slowly, steadying himself. With the surge of power gone, exhaustion slammed into him. His knees threatened to buckle—but he remained standing.
Survive first.
Understand later.
He turned away from the corpses and melted into the alleys, instinct guiding his steps through paths even the gangs avoided. The city seemed to bend subtly around him—lights dimming as he passed, shadows stretching to offer cover.
Far beneath the city, in a chamber carved from black stone and old bones, a woman opened her eyes.
Dozens of monitors flickered before her, each showing a different corner of the underworld—illegal arenas, data vaults, blood-soaked negotiation halls. Every screen glitched at once.
She frowned.
"A disturbance?" she asked.
"Yes," replied a man kneeling behind her, his voice reverent. "District Nine. Crown Authority units… eliminated."
Her fingers stilled.
"Eliminated?" she repeated softly.
"Yes, Madam Noctis. No explosives detected. No heavy ordinance. The signatures don't match any known Awakened."
Madam Noctis rose slowly, her long coat brushing the floor. Silver tattoos glimmered faintly along her neck—marks of someone who had survived more than one era of power.
"Bring me the footage."
The final recording played.
A single figure stood in the rain, shadows kneeling at his feet like obedient beasts.
Her lips curved upward.
"So the abyss has finally chosen," she murmured. "How nostalgic."
High above the city, in a tower of glass and law, alarms blared.
A bald man with steel-gray eyes slammed his fist onto a polished table, cracking it cleanly in half.
"Explain," he said coldly.
The room trembled.
A trembling analyst swallowed. "Sir… all Authority units in District Nine are unresponsive. Energy readings indicate an unknown source. Not divine. Not demonic."
The man straightened his uniform.
"Unknown is unacceptable," he replied. "Lock down the city. Activate the Executors."
"Yes, Lord Regent."
His gaze drifted toward the window, overlooking the sprawling metropolis.
"Awakened who act without permission," he murmured, "must be erased before they become symbols."
Kael collapsed inside an abandoned subway station, hidden beneath layers of rust and forgotten tracks.
His breathing was shallow. His skin burned faintly where the abyss had fused with him.
He clenched his teeth as black veins surfaced briefly along his arm.
"So this is the price," he whispered.
—This is the beginning— the abyss replied.
Kael leaned back against the wall, staring at the darkness.
"I don't want to rule," he said. "I just don't want to be hunted."
The abyss was silent for a long moment.
Then—
—Those things are the same—
Kael laughed weakly.
Above him, the city moved on—unaware that something fundamental had shifted. Syndicates sharpened knives. The Authority mobilized its executioners.
And in the underworld, ancient players smiled.
Because a crown had found a head.