The faint pulse of Riftlight thrummed beneath Ethan's skin, steady but uneasy—as if the mark itself sensed the fissures cracking inside his mind.
The vault had fallen silent.
No Bonebound war cries echoed through the cavern, no clashing steel rang out. Only the low hum of Rift energy and the distant drip of water into shadowed pools.
Ethan's breaths came shallow, each inhalation sharpening the taste of iron and ash in his mouth. He stood at the heart of the vault, before the pulsing core of the Rift—the Heart itself—and for the first time, the visions no longer felt like whispers at the edges of his thoughts. They were screaming, unrelenting.
Images flashed behind his eyes. Faces he recognized—and others he didn't. Memories that felt borrowed but burned with unbearable clarity.
His mother's face—soft and strong—her hands pressing the journal into his grasp. Her voice, brittle but fierce, echoing from somewhere beyond time.
"You carry more than a mark, Ethan. You carry a legacy built on sacrifice and lies."
And then the weight of the truth slammed into him like a falling mountain.
He wasn't just a child born of accident or fate.
He was designed.
His parents' deaths—their sudden fall during the Rift's first collapse—had not been the tragic consequence of random violence.
They had been a calculated strike.
Someone had wanted to erase them.
And more terrifyingly, someone had wanted to keep Ethan alive.
Because he was the key.
The revelation twisted inside him as new visions poured in—fractured memories from the Rift itself, showing shadows of his father, a man not just fighting beasts but bargaining with forces darker than the Rift. His mother, whispering to unknown figures, her eyes glinting with desperate resolve.
But then the images shifted, darker and colder.
A familiar voice—Kael's—faint, but unmistakably close.
"You don't know what you're really carrying, Ethan. And when the time comes, I won't hesitate."
Ethan's eyes snapped open.
Behind him, the cavern's shadows stirred.
Zeila stepped forward, her expression unreadable.
Kael lingered by the vault's entrance, fingers twitching near his rifle.
Something had broken—not in the Rift, but in the fragile trust between them.
Ethan clenched his jaw. The real battle wasn't just for the Heart.
It was for the truth.
The cavern walls seemed to close in as Ethan wrestled with the sudden surge of revelations crashing through his mind. The Riftlight around the Heart flickered, mirroring the chaos within him—bright then dim, pulsing then still.
He turned slowly, eyes locking on Zeila. Her gaze was steady, but there was something guarded in it now, something unreadable.
"Zeila," Ethan started, voice low, "did Kael say that to you too?"
She hesitated, jaw tightening. "No. But... I've known something wasn't right. The way he's been holding back, watching."
Ethan's eyes shifted to Kael, who stood motionless, expression unreadable but tense. The bond that had once bound them like brothers now felt fragile, stretched thin across shadows and secrets.
"You knew," Ethan said quietly, "and you didn't tell me?"
Zeila's mouth pressed into a hard line. "It wasn't just me. Some of the others—they're scared. Afraid what you carry means more than just power. They're wondering if you're a threat."
"And Kael?" Ethan asked, stepping closer. "Is he afraid? Or something else?"
Kael's voice broke the silence, low but sharp.
"I never wanted you to find out like this," he said. "There's more at stake than you realize. Your birth, your parents... it's tangled with the Rift and the Bonebound in ways you can't yet understand."
Ethan's pulse quickened. "Then tell me. Because right now, I'm standing in a vault with a heart that could tear the world apart, and I don't know who to trust."
Kael's eyes darkened. "You think your mother was just a researcher? She was part of a plan—one meant to create a weapon capable of controlling the Rift. You're that weapon, Ethan. But the Rift changes everything. It's alive, and it's not willing to be tamed."
Zeila stepped between them, voice firm. "We need to focus. The Bonebound won't wait while we sort out our trust issues."
The tension didn't ease.
Because somewhere deep inside Ethan's chest, a second pulse beat—not from the Beastmark, but from something older, something buried in his blood.
A warning.
---
The visions grew stronger that night as Ethan sat alone near the vault's glowing core.
His parents' faces flickered before him—alive, arguing with shadowed figures cloaked in Riftlight.
His father's voice was urgent. "You don't know what you're unleashing."
His mother's was fierce. "We have to protect him. The child is the future."
And then a cold voice, unfamiliar yet chilling: "No. He is the key to rewriting the Rift's fate. The old world must fall."
Ethan reached out, but the images shattered like glass.
The truth was a fractured mirror, reflecting impossible choices and betrayals.
He was a child born from desperate hope—and dark designs.
---
Elsewhere in the vault, Zeila confronted Kael.
"We can't keep this from Ethan," she said sharply. "He deserves to know everything."
Kael's jaw clenched. "If he knew the whole truth, would he still trust us? Or would he turn against us like the others?"
Zeila's eyes narrowed. "We're supposed to be a team. Or are you already planning your next move?"
Kael's hands tightened around his rifle. "The Rift chooses its champions. Sometimes that means sacrifice."
---
Back near the Heart, Ethan stood, sword in hand, feeling the weight of every secret pressing down on him.
His parents' deaths, the betrayal brewing in his team, the growing power inside him—it all spiraled toward a breaking point.
And in the deepest silence, the Rift whispered again.
> Choose your path, Beastmarked. Become the weapon they designed—or the savior they never expected.
Ethan's grip tightened.
The war wasn't just outside.
It was inside him.
Ethan stayed by the vault's glowing core long after Zeila and Kael had retreated to the shadows, their whispered conversations barely audible. His sword lay across his lap, but his mind was miles away—trapped inside memories that weren't his, visions bleeding from the Rift itself.
He clenched his fists against the rising tide of confusion. Who had engineered his birth? Who had sent the Bonebound to kill his parents? And why?
A sudden chill crawled down his spine—an instinct sharpened by years of hunting beasts and navigating the Rift. Someone close was watching him, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
Ethan rose, gripping the hilt of his sword tighter. His gaze swept the cavern, sharp and searching.
There, by the jagged entrance, stood Kael. The flicker of torchlight revealed a shadow flickering across his face—a mask hiding something darker than doubt.
"Kael," Ethan called out, voice steady but carrying an edge.
Kael's eyes met his. "We need to talk."
Ethan narrowed his eyes. "Why wait now? After everything?"
Kael's jaw tightened. "Because you need to know the truth. All of it. And it's not something Zeila or the others are ready for."
A bitter laugh escaped Ethan. "So you decide what I can handle? That's not your choice anymore."
Kael took a slow step forward, his hands raised slightly in a gesture of peace. "I'm not your enemy. But you're playing a dangerous game with forces beyond you."
Ethan's heart pounded. "Then tell me. Tell me everything."
Kael's gaze flickered, haunted by memories Ethan couldn't see. "Your parents weren't just researchers or warriors. They were part of a covert guild—one that experimented with Rift energy in ways no one else dared. They tried to create a new breed of warrior, one who could control the Rift rather than be consumed by it."
Ethan blinked, the pieces clicking into place but leaving a darker picture than he expected.
"So... you're saying I'm their creation? Some kind of... living weapon?"
Kael nodded slowly. "Yes. But the Rift is alive. It doesn't obey scripts or designs. It reacts. And when your parents died, they triggered something much larger than themselves."
Ethan's stomach tightened. "What triggered?"
Kael swallowed hard. "The Rift's heartbeat. The same pulse that powers the Heart. Your birth was no accident—it was a calculated gambit to bind that pulse in flesh. To make a weapon that could stop the Bonebound. Or control them."
Ethan's Beastmark pulsed violently at his wrist, glowing brighter than before.
"But the Rift isn't just power," Kael continued. "It's memory. Pain. Rage. It's a force that remembers everything—the betrayals, the losses, the wars. And right now, it's waking up, calling to you."
Ethan's gaze locked on Kael's. "And the betrayal? You said some in our team have turned against me."
Kael's face twisted with regret. "I'm sorry, Ethan. But you're right. Not everyone wants this secret revealed. Some fear what you'll become—or what you already are."
The shadows stirred again.
From the cavern's edge, a voice cut through the tension—cold and sharp.
"Not all betrayals come with a warning."
Zeila stepped forward, dagger drawn, eyes flashing with resolve. Behind her, two figures emerged—guilders who had once fought by Ethan's side, but now wore expressions twisted by doubt and fear.
Ethan's breath caught. The circle of trust had shattered.
---
The clash was sudden and brutal.
Zeila moved like a shadow, swift and precise, her daggers cutting arcs of Voidsteel light. But the two guilders—Ralen and Miro—fought with desperation, fueled by betrayal and dark whispers from the Bonebound.
Kael raised his plasma rifle, but Ethan was already in motion, sword glowing with Riftlight. Every strike he made was fueled by the storm inside him—a mix of fury and shattered hope.
"Why?" Ethan demanded between parries. "Why turn on me?"
Ralen sneered. "Because you carry a curse, not a blessing. The Riftmarked will only bring ruin. We're trying to save what's left."
Miro's eyes flickered with cold resolve. "You're playing with forces you don't control. Better to cut the branch before it breaks the tree."
Ethan's Beastmark flared, and the Rift energy coursed through his veins like wildfire. He felt the power within him awaken—raw and wild—but also a tether pulling him back, a reminder of who he was fighting for.
Zeila's voice rang out, steady and fierce. "We don't have time for this! The Bonebound are coming. If we don't stop them, none of us survive."
The traitors hesitated, uncertainty flickering across their faces.
But the fracture had grown too wide.
Ethan's mind raced—how many more would turn? How deep did the betrayal run?
---
Later, when the dust settled, Ethan sat with Zeila and Kael, the cavern cold and still once more.
The weight of the day pressed down on them.
Ethan's voice was raw. "I thought I knew who I was. But now... I don't know what to believe."
Zeila reached out, her hand steady on his shoulder. "We'll find the truth. Together."
Kael nodded slowly. "But be ready. The Rift doesn't just remember—it waits. And the choices you make now will echo forever."
Ethan looked down at the medallion the Bonebound lieutenant had dropped—the eye split by a fang etched deep into the bone.
His mother's symbol.
His legacy.
And the beginning of a war that would decide the fate of everything.
Ethan lay awake on the cold stone floor of their camp, the faint glow of the Riftlight heart pulsating in his satchel. The weight of Kael's words churned inside him like a storm. The truth about his birth wasn't just a secret—it was a curse, a thread weaving him into a design far bigger and darker than he'd imagined.
The betrayal by Ralen and Miro gnawed at him. How had they slipped through the cracks of his trust? How many others? The walls around him felt thinner, as if the Rift itself had seeped in to unravel his very soul.
He sat up, staring into the shadows that flickered from the dying fire. The visions returned—his parents in heated debate, faces etched with fear and determination.
"Protect him," his mother had said.
But protect him from what?
A sudden movement made him tense. Zeila's silhouette appeared at the camp's edge, silent and watchful.
"Can't sleep either," she said softly, settling beside him.
Ethan nodded. "There's too much... too many pieces."
Zeila's gaze was steady. "You're not alone in this. We'll find the answers. But first, we need to survive."
Ethan glanced at her, searching for certainty. "I don't know if I can trust anyone anymore."
Zeila's lips tightened. "Trust is fragile, especially when the Rift's involved. But some bonds are worth fighting for."
They sat in silence as the Riftlight pulsed between them, a fragile beacon in the growing darkness.
---
Morning came with a cold wind that bit through their armor. The team gathered, the tension thick enough to taste.
Kael stepped forward, voice low but firm. "We've lost good people to fear and doubt. But the Bonebound are still out there, hunting. We have to move."
Ethan's eyes scanned the group—those loyal, those uncertain, and those who lingered in shadows.
"We need to seal the Rift Heart," Ethan said, lifting the glowing medallion. "Before it tears this world apart."
Zeila nodded. "And we need to find out who's behind the Bonebound's new orders."
Kael's rifle was ready. "There's a trail—one that leads deeper into the Hollow. But it's dangerous. We don't know what waits."
Ethan's Beastmark flared, responding to the threat like a beacon. "Then we don't have a choice. We face it together."
---
As they moved deeper into the Hollow, the Rift seemed to pulse with anticipation. Shadows flickered at the edges of their vision, whispering promises and threats.
Ethan's steps slowed when a sudden chill swept through the air. Ahead, a figure emerged from the Rift's mist—familiar, but twisted by shadows.
"Ralen," Ethan breathed.
The traitor smirked, eyes glowing faintly with Rift energy. "You didn't think I'd stay loyal, did you? The Bonebound offered a better future."
Ethan's grip tightened on his sword. "You're wrong. There's no future in serving the Rift's darkness."
Ralen laughed, a hollow sound that echoed through the cavern. "You're a pawn, Ethan. A weapon forged by lies. The Rift chooses its champions—and I choose power."
The battle ignited again, Rift energy crackling, steel clashing. But Ethan fought with something new—understanding. The Rift wasn't just a weapon. It was a test. And he was ready to rewrite the rules.