The jungle trail behind them faded into silence, swallowed by the thick canopy and the scent of damp earth. Daeshim stood still beneath a massive jackfruit tree, its gnarled branches stretching toward the heavens like ancient arms. Smoke curled lazily on the distant horizon, whispering secrets through the humid wind.
"We've made it," he murmured, voice low, tinged with exhaustion and quiet resolve.
Beside him, Elira squinted toward the hazy skyline. "That's the city?"
Daeshim gave a slow nod. "The place where all the answers lie... or all the nightmares begin."
The city loomed ahead, not just built but sculpted—like a god's vision of beauty twisted into something unnatural. Its gates soared like golden mountains, etched with living runes that pulsed like fireflies trapped beneath glass. Everything shimmered with an unreal perfection. The laughter of children, the clinking of coins, the bustle of vendors—it was all too polished, too clean.
"This isn't right," Daeshim said, stepping beneath the gilded archway. "This peace... it's a veil."
Elira's gaze swept the immaculate streets, her voice dropping to a whisper. "The deeper we go, the more I feel it. The corruption... it sings in the walls."
Past silken stalls and cobblestone paths, they moved toward the black castle that rose like a spear through the heart of the city. Its spires clawed at the sky, wrapped in unmoving banners marked with a sigil Daeshim recognized—the mark of a fallen Necravore commander.
"We won't make it inside as we are," Daeshim said.
"No powers. No flight. Just shadows." Elira smirked, pulling her hood tight. "Like old times."
---
Night fell like a curtain of ink.
The east wall of the black castle lay quieter than the rest. Guards moved with sharp precision, but Daeshim and Elira were ghosts in the darkness.
"Left one's yours," Daeshim whispered, crouched behind a twisted pillar.
Elira vanished without reply. Seconds later, muffled thuds broke the silence. Daeshim dragged the fallen sentry behind the stone, stripping his crimson armor with grim efficiency. Elira followed suit, donning the mask of their enemy.
Now disguised, they merged into the patrol. The castle's interior was a cathedral of shadows—walls lined with flame-lit sconces, the scent of incense heavy in the air. Every footstep echoed like a ticking clock.
They descended a narrow stairwell hidden behind a tapestry, cold wind rising from the depths like a breath from some sleeping beast.
Screams pierced the silence.
"This is no dungeon," Elira whispered. "It's a graveyard."
Blood-slicked stone walls pressed close around them. Most cells were empty. Others held shadows of what once were people. And in the final chamber, a single figure sat in silence.
His eyes glowed faint silver. His aura whispered power.
"That's him," Daeshim breathed.
The man lifted his head. "So... the boy has come."
"You know me?" Daeshim asked, heart thudding.
"I know what stirs inside you," the man rasped. "I heard it long ago—before the gates closed, before the world forgot what true power was."
But before he could say more, sirens howled. Crimson light bathed the corridor.
"We've been found," Elira snapped, unsheathing her blade.
---
Guards flooded the hallway.
Daeshim tore off his helmet. "No more hiding."
His palm lit with darkness, and a shockwave surged forward, hurling soldiers like ragdolls. Bones shattered. Walls cracked.
Elira became a blur—twisting, slashing, each movement deadly and precise. A spear grazed her cheek; she snarled and buried her dagger into a throat.
But they kept coming.
Daeshim felt blades scrape his armor. Pain bloomed in his shoulder. He struck back with raw power, crushing stone and steel.
"Elira!" he shouted, seeing her fall.
He reached for her—but a club smashed into his temple.
Darkness swallowed him.
---
Cold.
Pain.
Daeshim's eyes fluttered open. Blood caked his face. He was chained in a stone cell, every breath sharp with agony.
"Elira?" he called, throat raw.
"I'm here," came her weak reply. "They took everything... even the pendant."
Footsteps echoed. A heavy door creaked.
Two guards stood like statues.
"The King awaits," one said.
---
The throne room was a cathedral of madness.
A dome stretched high above, painted with stars and swirling galaxies. Pillars twisted like bones frozen in anguish. Shadows flitted between the marble.
And on the obsidian throne sat a man.
Golden hair. Crimson eyes. A smile like silk over steel.
"Welcome, Daeshim," he said.
"Who are you?"
"I am Ral'Zeth. Your enemy. Your destiny."
He rose—and the mask cracked.
His body warped. Horns curled from his skull. Wings of shadow burst from his back. His voice deepened, thundering.
"I know what stirs inside you," he growled. "And I will take it."
He raised a hand—
—and reality shattered.
---
Daeshim blinked.
He was back in his old school. Fluorescent lights. Empty halls. No memory.
Then—
"You failed."
His mother's voice. Soft. Accusing.
"You let them die."
The walls bled. Lockers melted. Shadows reached for him.
Ral'Zeth stepped from the dark.
"Everyone breaks in their dream," he whispered.
But something inside Daeshim clenched.
"No."
The voice inside him stirred.
"I see through illusions."
Light burst from within his chest. The dream shattered like glass.
---
The throne room snapped back into place.
Ral'Zeth recoiled. "Impossible!"
"You underestimated me," Daeshim said, rising.
The chamber trembled.
Fire clashed with shadow. Lightning struck stone. Ral'Zeth roared, his form blazing with fury.
Daeshim met every blow—his fists alight with abyssal energy. Pain seared through his ribs, but he moved with purpose.
A blade grazed his side—he retaliated with a blast that tore through marble.
"You're just a child!" Ral'Zeth screamed.
"No," Daeshim said. "I am the reckoning."
With one final cry, he drove his fist into Ral'Zeth's chest. Light surged. The throne cracked. The king flew backward, crashing into the wall.
Ral'Zeth's eyes widened.
And then—
Dust.
He was gone.
---
"Elira!"
She ran to him, blood on her brow. "You're hurt!"
"I'm fine," he gasped. "The old man—we need him."
They freed the prisoner. Alarms blared. The castle shook.
Ahead—a golden portal erupted from thin air.
The old man turned to Daeshim. "You opened it. That power... it answers you."
They stepped through.
---
Light.
And then—home.
Daeshim collapsed to the floor of his room, Seraphin moonlight washing over him. Elira leaned against the wall, eyes wide with wonder.
The old man stared at Daeshim's palm, where a mark glowed softly.
"The truth... is closer than ever."
Daeshim looked down, heart pounding.
Something ancient had awakened within him.
And it would never sleep again.