The throne responded to Kael's heartbeat now.
It wasn't just a seat of power in a shadowy dimension—it was alive, pulsing, listening. The more he accepted it, the more it unfurled its truth. It wasn't only Obsidian's legacy; it was a call, echoing across dimensions, through light and dark alike.
Steven noticed the change first.
"You're... heavier now," he said one morning as they trained together on the beach. "Not like in weight. Just... your presence."
Kael, sword in hand, slashed a ripple in the air. The shadow parted and bent in perfect synchronicity.
"I feel it too," Kael said. "Like I'm growing into something. Like the more I accept the throne... the more I stop being myself."
"You're still you," Steven assured him, offering a soft smile. "You're just more you than you were before."
They sat for a while in the sand as the tide rolled in. Connie joined them with her blade resting across her lap.
"So," she asked, "are we going to talk about the fact that you now have a sword spirit shadow lady calling you Monarch?"
Kael grinned faintly. "Shadelace. She served Black Obsidian. She said I'm not the only fragment out there."
Steven rubbed his chin. "So what, you're... heir to some hidden Gem line?"
"Not exactly," Kael replied. "I'm the root of it. Whatever Obsidian started... it didn't die when the Diamonds buried it. It just went underground."
Connie looked serious. "Which means you need to decide what kind of king you're going to be."
Kael looked down at his hand as a flicker of black light danced across his fingertips.
"Yeah," he said softly. "I do."
The Temple glowed that night.
Garnet met Kael on the porch as he returned from meditation. She held something wrapped in cloth.
"I've seen some of what's coming," she said. "Not everything. Your path is... uncertain. Winding. But there's one constant."
She unwrapped the cloth—revealing a gem weapon unlike anything Kael had seen.
It was shaped like a curved glaive, forged from reflective black crystal, rimmed in amethyst flame. The handle shimmered with violet energy.
"This was recovered from a sealed chamber deep beneath the Temple," Garnet explained. "It resonates with your aura."
Kael stepped forward and touched it. The blade hummed—not mechanically, but spiritually. His shadow elongated and coiled upward, wrapping the handle like a hand welcoming home a long-lost relic.
"It's... calling to me," Kael whispered.
Garnet nodded. "It's yours now. A throneblade."
In the Cathedral, Kael stood upon the dais of his throne.
The structure had evolved again—taller, spiked with spires like a crown, and glowing with veins of violet, obsidian, and faint hints of silver.
Shadelace knelt before him, and behind her stood three new shadows—figures recently awakened, each bearing a Gem fragment embedded in their chests or limbs.
They weren't complete Gems. They weren't full humans either.
They were like him.
"This is the beginning," Shadelace said. "The fragments are rising. They've heard your call."
One of the shadows stepped forward. A young woman with ruby-red hair and a cracked gray Gem embedded in her collarbone.
"My name was Ashen Garnet," she said. "I was born in a fusion gone wrong. They tried to bury me. Forget me."
Kael stepped down from the throne and reached out a hand.
"You're not forgotten," he said. "Not anymore."
Later, Steven arrived with Connie and Peridot through a temporary warp Kael had constructed into the Cathedral. It was the first time Steven had seen the full throne.
"Whoa," Steven said, shielding his eyes. "You built all this?"
"Not built," Kael said. "Reclaimed. The structure is alive. The more I grow, the more it grows. And it's not just for me. It's for them."
He gestured to the growing group of half-Gems and rejected fusions training in the shadowy court. Some were learning to control their powers. Others stood guard, their summoned weapons flickering in and out of existence.
"This place," Peridot said, turning in a circle, "should not exist. It's not scientific—it's metaphysical architecture based on instinctual willpower and elemental consciousness."
"Yeah," Connie added. "It's also awesome."
Kael chuckled, but the weight of what he was doing bore down on him like armor.
"I'm going to need help," he said at last. "Not just fighters. Allies. A council."
Steven smiled. "Sounds like the start of something big."
"Something dangerous," Shadelace murmured. "If you stand tall, Kael, the Diamonds will take notice. And worse—others who once feared Obsidian's rise will come hunting again."
Kael looked at the throne. Then to Steven. Then to the shadows.
"Then let them come," he said.
"I'm not just the heir of Black Obsidian anymore. I'm the Monarch of the Forgotten."
In the far reaches of the galaxy, a figure in deep indigo robes watched the star charts flicker.
A gem on her chest pulsed slowly.
"He's risen," she murmured.
Another figure—taller, robed in swirling red and black—entered behind her.
"So the Obsidian Line lives."
They turned their gaze to Earth.
"We'll need to remind him," said the first voice coldly, "why the Cathedral was buried in the first place."