The sky above Aethlar roared in fury, a violent storm of violet clouds circling the yawning rift that had torn through the fabric of the world. The citizens screamed, scrambling through the narrow streets like ants disturbed from their colony. The rift bled with a swirling darkness, and from its depths, grotesque figures began to emerge. Darkspawn, misshapen and writhing, their forms an abomination of limbs and shadow, poured into the city with the unmistakable intent to destroy.
At the center of the chaos stood Kael Relan, his hand tightening around the hilt of his Void Dagger, its edges humming with dark energy. Beside him, his mentor, Varin Vale, had already phased out of sight, his Void Step allowing him to disappear and reappear like a flicker of shadow. The air around them crackled with magic and screams, but Kael's focus remained fixed on the horde rushing toward them.
"Stay close," Varin's voice echoed from the void, his form briefly flickering back into sight before vanishing again. "This isn't like the others."
Kael nodded, his eyes narrowing. Something was different about this rift. Its energy felt familiar, almost too familiar, as if it were calling to him, whispering secrets only his soul could hear. He could feel the tug, a dangerous seduction pulling at the edges of his mind. It felt… alive.
Before he could ponder the sensation further, the Darkspawn charged. With inhuman speed, they lunged forward, their twisted forms screeching as they closed in. Kael's instincts took over. He vanished into the shadows, his body blurring with the Void Step, rendering him invisible. He darted through the battlefield, moving like a ghost, his Void Dagger cutting through the monsters with a swift, deadly precision.
Varin reappeared next to him in a blur, his Distortion Blade cleaving through the fabric of reality, slowing time around a group of Darkspawn. They writhed in slow motion, helpless as his blade cut through them, each strike landing with surgical accuracy.
"Kael!" Varin shouted, the urgency in his voice palpable as more creatures spilled from the rift. "We need to stop this at the source before they overwhelm the city!"
Kael nodded again, though his mind drifted, distracted by the pulsing energy emanating from the rift. He felt drawn to it, like a moth to a flame, and that pull—it was growing stronger. Every second, the darkness tugged at him, whispering promises of power. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, but the whispers grew louder.
As the fight raged on, Kael found himself dancing through the shadows, his body a blur of movement. His Void Step allowed him to phase in and out of reality, avoiding the deadly claws and fangs of the Darkspawn. Each time he reappeared, his daggers struck true, cutting down enemies with fluid grace. Yet something was wrong. Every time he vanished into the Void, he could feel its tendrils creeping further into his mind, like icy fingers clawing at his soul.
It happened in an instant.
A Darkspawn, larger and more vicious than the rest, leaped toward him, claws outstretched. Kael reacted instinctively, vanishing into the Void to avoid the blow. But something went wrong. The familiar sensation of stepping into the Void, of phasing through space and reappearing elsewhere, twisted.
Instead of returning to the battlefield, Kael found himself floating in a vast, infinite expanse of darkness. The air was thick, suffocating, and the ground beneath him was cold and slick, like obsidian soaked in blood. He was no longer in Aethlar. He was inside the Abyss.
The realization hit him like a hammer. His heart pounded as he looked around, panic rising in his chest. The Void had always been a tool he wielded, a space he controlled. But here, in the Abyss, it was different. The Abyss was alive, sentient, and it had claimed him.
A figure emerged from the shadows, a towering presence draped in darkness. Its form was indistinct, shifting like smoke, but its eyes—two burning coals of malice—fixed on Kael. The presence exuded an ancient, terrifying power.
"Kael Relan," the figure's voice was deep, resonant, echoing through the Abyss like the sound of a collapsing mountain. It wasn't just a voice; it was a command, a claim. "I have waited for you."
Kael's blood ran cold. "Who—what are you?"
The figure stepped closer, and with every step, the darkness seemed to pulse, its energy wrapping tighter around Kael. "I am a Lord of the Abyss," it hissed, its voice like razors. "And you… you are bound to me by an ancient pact. You carry our mark."
Kael instinctively looked down at his hands, expecting to see some brand, some evidence of this pact. There was nothing. But the presence, the way the Abyss called to him—it felt true, like some part of him had always belonged to this place.
"You are one of us, Eternal Shadowmaster," the Abyssal Lord continued. "You wield our power. But the more you use it, the closer you come to losing yourself. Just like your mentor."
"Varin?" Kael gasped. "What are you talking about?"
The Abyssal Lord's eyes flared with a cruel amusement. "The Void is but a veil between worlds. Your mentor dances on the edge of oblivion. His core is shattered, broken, and soon he will be claimed by the Abyss, just as you will be."
Kael's mind spun. Varin had warned him about the dangers of the Void, about the cost of wielding too much power. But this? This was something more. The Abyss wanted him. It had marked him, and it wouldn't let go.
"Do not resist," the Abyssal Lord purred. "Accept your fate. Join us."
Before Kael could respond, a sharp pain shot through his chest. He gasped, his vision blurring as the darkness around him tightened, suffocating him. He felt himself slipping, his consciousness fading as the Abyss claimed him.
"Kael!" Varin's voice pierced through the darkness, a beacon of light in the void. Kael felt a hand grab his shoulder, pulling him back from the edge of oblivion.
Suddenly, he was back in Aethlar, the cold night air rushing into his lungs as he collapsed onto the ground. Varin stood over him, his face pale, his eyes filled with a mix of fear and anger.
"Don't you ever do that again!" Varin snarled, his voice trembling. "Do you understand me?"
Kael struggled to catch his breath, his body trembling. "I—something pulled me into the Abyss. I couldn't stop it."
Varin's gaze softened, but the worry in his eyes remained. "The Abyss is dangerous, Kael. You can't just waltz through it without consequences. You nearly lost yourself in there."
Kael looked down at his hand, his heart sinking as he saw it—a black, pulsing sigil etched into his skin. The mark the Abyssal Lord had spoken of. It throbbed with dark energy, a constant reminder of what he had just encountered.
"I—I'm marked," Kael whispered, his voice barely audible. "What does it mean?"
Varin knelt beside him, his expression grim. "It means the Abyss has claimed part of you. And if we don't find a way to stop it… it will take everything."
The rift still raged above them, but the battle had subsided. The Darkspawn had been driven back, for now. The city was quiet, save for the distant sounds of soldiers and survivors trying to make sense of the chaos.
Kael stared at the mark on his hand, his mind racing. The Abyssal Lord's words echoed in his mind, a chilling reminder of the power he now carried—and the danger it posed.
"What do we do now?" Kael asked, looking up at Varin.
Varin's jaw tightened, and he stood, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade. "We find out who's behind this rift. Someone in the city opened it intentionally."
Kael frowned. "You think this was a distraction?"
Varin nodded. "Aethlar's protective shield was destabilized. Whoever did this wanted to weaken the city. The Abyssal attack was just a smokescreen."
Kael stood, his legs still shaky. "And the mark?"
Varin's eyes darkened, but he didn't answer right away. He glanced at the rift, then back at Kael. "We'll deal with it. But first, we have to stop whoever's trying to tear this city apart."
As they turned to leave, a chill ran down Kael's spine. The sigil on his hand pulsed again, a constant reminder of the encounter with the Abyssal Lord.
And in the distance, deep within the heart of Aethlar, something—or someone—was waiting for them.