Kael stood frozen before the mirror, its surface no longer glass but a swirling vortex of shadows and memory. His reflection had vanished, replaced by a monstrous visage: darkened flesh laced with glowing scars, eyes like coals burning in a dead world, and a mouth twisted in a snarl that echoed with ancient rage.
Behind him, the High Circle's leader—Lady Vireya—watched in silence, her hands folded over the hilt of a slender ceremonial blade. Around the room, the other council members clutched their relics and whispered prayers to the Hollow Star, their faith cracked by the breach of the Harvesters and the truth now bleeding into their sacred chambers.
"Is that what I am?" Kael asked, voice rough, almost choked. "Some twisted creature? A puppet born of war?"
"No," Lady Vireya replied softly. "That… is what you might become."
---
The mirror shimmered, then pulsed—beating like a heart made of sorrow and fire. Images flickered within: cities devoured by beasts, children screaming beneath shattered moons, armies falling to a single man cloaked in shadow. And at the center of every vision stood Kael—his monstrous form a harbinger of ruin.
He stumbled back, throat tight. "Why are you showing me this?"
"Because the truth cannot be ignored anymore," Vireya said, stepping toward him. "You are the last Harbinger, the final product of the Covenant Directive—an ancient pact made before the Collapse, when science and desperation birthed weapons in the form of men."
Kael's head spun. The Covenant Directive. He'd heard whispers of it in the ruins, old records scorched into bunker walls. A myth of salvation—or annihilation.
"You're saying I'm a weapon?" he rasped.
"You were meant to be," she said. "But something changed. You survived beyond the directive's reach. You weren't activated when they intended. That delay… altered you."
---
Kael clenched his fists, the Chain wrapped around his arm glowing faintly as if responding to the rising storm within him.
"Why not kill me when you had the chance?" he asked. "Why wait until now to tell me the truth?"
Vireya's face, serene until now, cracked with sorrow. "Because we hoped the power inside you would fade. That you could live as a soldier, unaware of what slept within. But the world refuses to stay silent. The Harvesters woke to finish what they started—and your awakening called to them like blood in water."
Kael felt hollow, as if every choice he'd made was suddenly scripted. Every pain, every loss, a part of someone else's design.
"Then what am I supposed to do?" he asked. "Destroy them? Lead them? Become that thing in the mirror?"
The chamber fell silent.
---
From the corner of the room, a figure stepped forward—cloaked in grey, hood low over his face. Kael recognized him instantly.
Arion.
"You have a choice," Arion said, voice calm. "But it's not the one they offer."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "You again."
"I never left," Arion replied. "I told you. I came to give you the truth. And now you've seen it."
He turned toward the mirror, raising a hand. The surface rippled again, revealing another image.
This time, it was the city burning—not from the Harvesters, but from within. Riots in the alleys. Executions in the square. The High Circle dragged from their thrones.
At the center stood Kael, unchanged. No monster. No beast. Just him—leading the revolution.
"Two futures," Arion whispered. "Both drenched in blood. One ruled by fear… the other by freedom."
---
The council erupted in protest.
"You lie!" one shouted.
"He seeks to twist the Harbinger against us!"
"He is a traitor!"
Vireya raised her hand, silencing them.
Kael looked between Arion and the council, his heart heavy. "And what do you want from me?" he asked Vireya.
She looked tired. "We want you to choose humanity over power. To bind the Chain, suppress the Harbinger, and serve the people as protector—not destroyer."
"And if I refuse?"
Her eyes turned hard. "Then we'll do what must be done."
The threat was clear.
---
The ground trembled—faint at first, then building to a bone-deep quake.
A scout burst into the chamber, gasping for air. "The outer wall is breached! The Harvesters… they've come through the Eastern Gate! Thousands!"
Panic gripped the council. Cries rang out. Guards scrambled.
Arion smiled. "It begins."
Kael turned to Vireya. "What will you do?"
"We fight," she said. "With or without you."
Kael looked back at the mirror. The monstrous form had faded—replaced by nothing. Not even his own reflection.
A blank slate.
A future unwritten.
---
He turned to Arion. "You said I had a choice."
Arion nodded. "Yes. But no one said it would be easy."
Kael clenched his fists. The Chain tightened, pulsing with heat and hunger. It wanted release. It wanted war.
And deep within him, something stirred. Not the monster. Not rage.
Purpose.
---
He walked to the balcony overlooking the city. Flames bloomed in the distance. Harvesters flooded through broken barricades. Screams filled the air.
Kael took a deep breath.
"I will fight," he said.
Vireya nodded.
"But not for the council," Kael added. "Not for your secrets. I fight for them—the people."
He pointed to the streets below.
"And if any of you stand in the way… I won't hesitate."
---
Vireya's expression was unreadable.
Arion chuckled. "Good. You're ready."
Kael stepped from the chamber, cloak trailing behind him, Chain crackling with light.
Behind him, two paths waited—each soaked in blood, each demanding sacrifice.
---
As Kael descended into the city, a voice whispered in his ear—one not his own, yet intimately familiar.
"You think you have control now? That this is your story?
You are not the only Harbinger."
Kael froze, eyes wide.
From the rooftops above, a second figure stood.
Armored. Chained.
And watching him with the same fire in their eyes.
---