In his other hand, he held a tin cup filled with steaming broth. It wasn't much—just water boiled with a handful of wilted greens and a pinch of salt—but in Rustblight Alley, even this was a luxury. Taking a sip, Kyle grimaced as the bitter liquid rolled over his tongue.
"Tastes like swamp water," he muttered, pulling his patched coat tighter against the morning chill.
The streets bustled with early activity. Vendors shouted out offers of scrap metal and salvaged goods, their cries mixing with the clatter of carts and the murmurs of pedestrians. Kyle watched the crowd pass by from his quiet corner, pondering how many of them might still be alive a month from now.
The truth was stark—none of them could escape the effects of the "Great Fracture."
As he finished his meager meal, a sharp sting jolted through his palm. Kyle clenched his fist instinctively, but the pain radiated up his arm, demanding his attention. The mark's faint glow intensified, drawing his focus entirely.
Not now. Not here.
He stumbled away from the archway, his vision blurring and his ears ringing. The vibrant noise of the street faded into a muted hum. Voices around him grew distant, their urgency barely registering.
"Hey! Are you alright?" A woman's voice cut through the haze.
Kyle tried to answer but couldn't form words. The burn in his chest flared, and his legs buckled beneath him. The last thing he saw was the concerned face of a stranger before darkness claimed him.
When Kyle opened his eyes, the bustling streets of Rustblight Alley were gone.
Above him loomed a stormy sky, its swirling gray clouds pierced by streaks of violet lightning. The landscape was desolate—a barren wasteland of jagged cliffs and cracked earth. Far in the distance, a towering black spire rose ominously, its peak disappearing into the storm.
Kyle sat up, his heart pounding. The air felt heavy, as if it resisted his every movement. Around him, the land seemed alive, pulsating with an eerie rhythm. His breath came in shallow gasps as he tried to make sense of his surroundings.
A cold, metallic voice echoed in his mind:
[Challenger, you have entered the Realm of Eclipse. Your mark binds your fate. The trial begins now.]
"Trial?" Kyle whispered, his voice trembling. His hands trembled as he stared at the glowing scar on his palm, now burning brighter than ever.
He rose to his feet unsteadily, surveying the alien landscape. A low growl broke the oppressive silence, sending a chill down his spine. Turning, he spotted a creature emerging from the shadows. It was grotesque—a hulking amalgamation of muscle and bone, with eyes that glowed like embers.
Kyle's mind raced. He had no weapons, no plan. All he had was the mark on his palm and an overwhelming sense of dread.
[The Mark of Eclipse grants you access to the Aspect of the Voidwarden. Harness it wisely.]
"Voidwarden?" Kyle muttered, his fear giving way to confusion.
The creature snarled and charged, closing the distance with terrifying speed. Acting on instinct, Kyle thrust his marked hand forward. A pulse of black energy erupted from his palm, slamming into the beast and sending it sprawling.
Kyle stood frozen, staring at his hand, which now radiated a faint, shadowy aura. He flexed his fingers experimentally, feeling the strange power coursing through him.
The creature stirred, struggling to rise. Kyle's hesitation melted away as determination took its place. He stepped forward, readying himself for another attack.
"Alright," he said under his breath, a faint smirk forming on his lips. "Let's see what this power can really do."