The night air carried the scent of blood and charred stone. In the ruins of the battlefield, Kael sat with his back against a crumbling wall, staring at his trembling hands. His fingers were stiff, coated in dried blood—his own, Rion's, Miya's. His breath came slow, controlled, but beneath the surface, rage and humiliation boiled.
He had never felt so weak.
Oris had crushed them without effort. Not even with malice, not even with the intent to kill—just overwhelming, absolute power.
Kael clenched his fists until his nails dug into his palm. He welcomed the pain.
A few feet away, Rion sat against a pile of rubble, his hand pressed to a deep gash in his shoulder. His usual fire was gone. He wasn't even looking at them. Just staring off into the distance.
Miya stood nearby, her arms crossed, eyes sharp as she studied him. "Kael," she said, her voice low but firm. "We need to talk."
He didn't answer.
His mind was stuck in the past. Back in that fight.
He had drawn his blade. He had ignited his flames.
And they meant nothing.
Oris had barely acknowledged him. The moment their powers clashed, Kael felt it—that gap between them. It wasn't just strength. It was a different existence entirely.
The Sentinels weren't just powerful. They were monsters.
His grip tightened.
"I should've done more," he muttered.
Miya narrowed her eyes. "You would've died."
"And maybe that would've been better," Kael snapped, his voice harsher than he intended.
Silence.
Rion exhaled sharply, shifting his weight. "That's a load of crap," he muttered. "Dying doesn't make you stronger."
Kael turned to him, his expression dark. "Then tell me, Rion—how the hell are we supposed to win like this?!" His voice cracked, frustration bleeding through. "We trained for years, fought through everything, and we still—still—couldn't even touch him!"
Rion didn't look at him. "I don't know," he admitted. "But I know this—sitting here feeling sorry for yourself won't change a damn thing."
Kael felt his jaw tighten. He wanted to argue, to say something, but… Rion was right.
Even if he hated it.
Miya exhaled, stepping closer. "You're scared," she said, her voice calm, but firm. "We all are."
Kael shook his head. "I don't have time to be scared."
"You don't have a choice," she replied. "Fear doesn't make you weak, Kael. It makes you human."
He looked up at her.
Her expression was unreadable, but there was something in her eyes. Understanding.
She knew this feeling.
She had felt it before.
Kael lowered his head, his hands curling into fists again. "I promised myself I wouldn't be weak," he whispered. "I swore I'd never let something like this happen again."
His mother's face flashed through his mind. The screams. The blood.
And now, he was back in that place again—helpless. Watching as someone far stronger decided whether he lived or died.
It was suffocating.
Rion sighed. "Then get stronger."
Kael looked up.
Rion met his gaze, eyes tired but steady. "You think you're the only one pissed off? The only one who hates this?" He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, we lost. Badly. But that doesn't mean we stop moving."
Kael stared at him.
Rion wasn't wrong.
But knowing that didn't make it easier.
Miya crossed her arms. "You want power?" she asked. "Then learn from this. Take this loss and use it."
Kael closed his eyes, breathing deep. He felt the lingering embers of his power still smoldering inside him. Small. Fragile. Incomplete.
He needed more.
He wouldn't survive otherwise.
The Ethereal Gates
Hours passed before they moved. The ruins had settled into uneasy quiet, but something in the air felt… wrong.
Kael felt it first. A low hum beneath his skin, like static building before a storm.
Miya tensed. "You feel that?"
Rion stood, his gaze narrowing. "Yeah."
Kael turned his eyes to the horizon, where the ruins ended, and the unknown began.
The Ethereal Gates.
A massive, jagged structure loomed in the distance—its form shifting slightly, as if reality itself was uncertain about its existence. Shrouded in mist, pulsing with an eerie, almost unnatural energy.
Kael had seen sketches in old texts, heard the myths. A place where power twisted and the world blurred between what was real and what was… something else.
And beyond that gate, the truth of their world.
Rion exhaled. "We're really doing this, huh?"
Kael's grip tightened around his blade. "We don't have a choice."
Miya glanced between them, her expression unreadable before she finally nodded.
"Then let's move."
They stepped forward, toward the unknown.
Toward the next battle.
The Ethereal Gates loomed before them, pulsing with an eerie glow, distorting the air around them like a mirage. Standing so close, Kael felt the weight of its presence pressing on his chest, an overwhelming force humming just beyond the threshold.
Miya knelt beside a broken pillar, inspecting the fractured stone. "No one's been here for years," she muttered. "But the energy here… it's alive."
Rion stayed silent, his gaze locked on the swirling mist surrounding the gate. His hands clenched into fists, his wounds from the last battle still fresh. "So what now?" he asked, voice low. "We step through and hope we don't die?"
Kael took a slow breath. Every part of him screamed that this was dangerous. That stepping into the unknown after their brutal defeat wasn't just reckless—it was suicidal.
And yet…
They didn't have a choice.
He turned to the others, his grip tightening around his blade. "We go in. We find the power we need. And we come back stronger."
Miya narrowed her eyes. "And if we don't come back?"
Kael's jaw tightened. "Then we die trying."
Rion let out a dry chuckle. "Comforting."
They exchanged glances, then, without another word, stepped into the mist.
The Other Side
The moment they crossed the threshold, reality twisted.
Kael staggered, the ground beneath him shifting like liquid before solidifying into cracked, obsidian stone. The air was thick, almost suffocating, filled with a strange static charge that prickled against his skin.
When he glanced back, the entrance was gone.
Rion cursed under his breath. "Figures."
Miya scanned their surroundings. "This place is…" She trailed off, eyes narrowing. "Wrong."
Kael understood what she meant. The world here felt… incomplete. Pieces of the landscape flickered in and out of existence, shifting between solid and illusion. A massive, half-formed city stretched in the distance, its towers broken and fading in and out of reality. The sky was an endless void, neither night nor day, filled with swirling embers of golden light.
Kael clenched his fists. "The legends said this place is where the strongest warriors sought power."
Miya glanced at him. "And how many came back?"
He didn't answer.
A sudden whisper echoed through the air, like distant voices carried by the wind. Kael's body tensed, every instinct screaming danger.
Then the ground trembled.
The whispers turned into a low, guttural growl.
Rion drew his blade. "We're not alone."
From the shifting shadows, something moved.
It emerged from the mist, towering and monstrous—its form flickering like a broken reflection, humanoid yet grotesque. Its limbs were elongated, shifting between flesh and metal, its eyes hollow voids of searing white. A Sentinel? No. Something older. Something worse.
The creature tilted its head, staring at them as if inspecting prey. Then it lunged.
Kael barely had time to react before a massive clawed hand came crashing down. He threw himself to the side, feeling the force of the impact shake the ground.
Rion and Miya scattered, blades drawn.
Kael gritted his teeth, flames flickering to life in his hands.
This is it. This is the power we need to face the Sentinels.
He surged forward, ready to fight.
The fire surged, spiraling outward in uncontrolled waves. The Dominion soldiers recoiled as the heat licked at their armor, their ranks scattering under the sudden onslaught. Kael barely registered their screams—his world had shrunk to the burning weight in his chest, the shard pulsing like a second heartbeat.
He couldn't stop it.
The flames weren't just consuming his enemies; they were reaching for everything. The stone walls cracked under the heat, embers raining down like falling stars. The hideout—their only sanctuary—was coming apart.
"Kael! Stop!"
A voice cut through the chaos. Sharp. Familiar. Miya.
She stood at the tunnel's entrance, eyes locked on him with an intensity that made his chest tighten. Her presence was like a lightning strike—sudden, undeniable.
The flames shuddered. Hesitated.
The shard howled in protest, raw power begging to be unleashed. But in that fleeting moment, Kael fought back, gritting his teeth as he forced the fire to retreat. The last embers flickered out, leaving only scorched ground and silence in their wake.
Kael staggered, his vision swimming. The weight of the shard's power still burned beneath his skin, but he forced himself to stand.
Maren was already moving, rallying the remaining Resistance fighters. "We need to go—now!"
Kael turned to Miya. "You're late." His voice was hoarse, his body barely holding itself together.
She crossed her arms, arching an eyebrow. "And you nearly burned the whole place down before I even got here. That's what happens when you don't think."
A smirk tugged at the corner of Kael's lips. Same old Miya.
But there was no time for reunions. The Dominion was regrouping, and this battle wasn't over yet.
"Move!" Maren barked.
Together, they vanished into the tunnels, the Resistance escaping into the dark.
And as they ran, Kael knew this was just the beginning.
The Dominion wouldn't stop.
And neither would he.