The cold winds of the North weren't kind.
They never were.
Kairos trudged through the ash-covered plains of Noctshade Valley, the map scroll clutched tightly in his gloved hand. Behind him, the broken silhouettes of the Southern ruins faded into mist. Before him, jagged cliffs rose like the jaws of some ancient beast, waiting to swallow him whole.
Ravenna was gone. But her words echoed louder than any storm:
"Go to the Exile's Temple. Find the truth. Before it finds you."
---
Hours passed. Days, maybe. The sun barely rose in this region, its light struggling against the darkened sky. The stars above shimmered in unnatural patterns—as if rearranged by some invisible hand.
It was here, under a warped sky, that Kairos first felt it.
A pulse. Deep beneath the earth. Faint… but calling to him.
He stopped walking.
His boots pressed into frozen soil as he knelt and touched the ground. It was warm. Not fire-warm… but alive-warm. Like blood.
Suddenly—
WHOOOOM.
The ground shook. A pulse of energy burst upward, throwing Kairos back.
His ears rang. Dust clouded his sight. And when it cleared… something impossible stood before him.
A staircase.
Stone, spiral, ancient… and descending deep into the earth.
"…What the hell?"
His instincts screamed to run. But his blood… his Void-born blood… pulled him forward.
---
Below Ground — The Hollow Sanctum
The deeper he went, the stranger it became.
The walls weren't carved—they were grown, as if the stone itself had bent to the will of whoever built this place. Symbols glowed faintly along the steps, pulsing with a language he didn't recognize but somehow… understood.
"Ashen root. Void spark. Flame sealed in chains…"
His lips moved before his brain caught up.
It was a memory not his own.
A voice buried in his blood.
At the bottom of the stairs, the path opened into a grand chamber—a circular cathedral of obsidian and crystal, with a single throne of rusted gold in the center.
And on that throne… sat a corpse.
But not just any corpse.
A knight in charred armor, head slumped forward, sword pierced through his own chest. His cape still fluttered, even though there was no wind. Around him, faded banners with the phoenix in chains symbol hung in silence.
Kairos stepped forward—slow, cautious.
Then the corpse moved.
Its head jerked up, revealing burning red eyes behind a shattered helm.
"So… the Flame lives again."
Kairos drew his dagger instantly, heart hammering. "Who are you?"
The knight stood, sword still embedded in his chest.
"I am what's left of those who defied fate. I once carried the name Sōgen Kurogane… Commander of the Phoenix Guard."
Kairos's throat went dry.
That name… he remembered it from bedtime stories told by an old kitchen hand at the Guild. Sōgen was said to have vanished the night the Akaros capital burned.
The knight walked forward, metal scraping stone.
His voice was broken—both in sound and soul.
"We were betrayed… all of us. We believed in your father. Fought under his banner. Died in silence. And now… you return. A child of ash… wearing the scent of the Void."
Kairos held his ground. "I didn't ask for any of this."
"No. You were never given a choice," Sōgen said bitterly. "Just like your father. Just like me."
He suddenly ripped the sword out of his chest, and the chamber pulsed with dark-red light.
But instead of attacking, he knelt.
"Then let me test your resolve, young flame."
Kairos blinked. "Test?"
"You seek the Exile's Temple. But only those with fire in their soul may enter it. I must see if your fire is real… or just a spark waiting to die."
Without warning, the room transformed.
Crimson walls melted into battlefield echoes. The air grew hot with memories of war. Screams, steel, flames—
A vision. A trial. A simulation of the past.
---
The Trial: Akaros's Last Stand
Kairos found himself in a warzone.
Armored soldiers with phoenix sigils clashed with corrupted beasts, their bodies twisted by Voidfire. In the center stood King Veyron—his father. His armor gleamed with silver flame, his sword a curved relic of divine energy.
Veyron turned. His eyes met Kairos's.
And he smiled.
"My son…"
Before Kairos could speak, the vision fractured.
Everything burned.
A monstrous being stepped through the fire. Tall. Horned. Wearing a tattered cloak of falling stars. Its voice was ice, its presence… apocalyptic.
"Flames die. Always."
And then it lunged.
Kairos screamed as he raised his hands—but this time, he didn't defend.
He answered.
The Void inside him erupted—black tendrils laced with silver flared from his body. His eyes turned jet-black. Time slowed. And with a roar, he punched the creature through its chest.
The illusion shattered.
---
Back in the Sanctuary
Kairos collapsed, gasping.
Sōgen stood over him, nodding.
"…You have it."
Kairos coughed. "Have what?"
"The truth," Sōgen said. "The blood of the King. The Flame of Akaros. And the will of the Void. You are what the Guild fears. What the Star-Eater seeks to extinguish. And now… you are ready."
With that, the knight lifted his hand—and the wall behind him split open, revealing a path carved in light.
"Beyond that door lies the Temple of the Exiled Flame. Your legacy… your curse… begins there."
As Kairos stepped forward, he turned back.
"Will I see you again?"
Sōgen smiled faintly.
"In this life? No.
But when the stars fall… remember my name."
The knight crumbled into ash, his duty fulfilled.