The cold wind slithered through the alleyways of Noxhaven, carrying the scent of damp stone and rotting wood. Beneath the towering spires and flickering gas lamps, a lone figure moved like a shadow, his presence unnoticed by the drunks and beggars huddled against the walls.
Orion Vael had lived in these streets long enough to know that in the Lower District, being seen meant being prey.
The nobility stayed in their golden towers, sipping wine and laughing over their lavish feasts, while people like Orion scavenged for scraps, stealing from those who had just enough to be worth the risk. Tonight, he had set his eyes on something bigger—a noble's carriage rolling through the streets unguarded. A careless mistake. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
His heart pounded as he clung to the shadows, watching the carriage rattle down the cobbled road. The emblem on its side—a silver serpent coiling around a crescent moon—belonged to one of the lesser noble houses. The driver looked half-asleep, reins loose in his hands.
Perfect.
Orion took a deep breath and dashed forward. In a blink, he was under the carriage, his body moving with trained precision. His fingers found the underside of the wooden frame, his grip tight as he let the vehicle carry him into the richer parts of the city.
He counted the seconds.
Thirty… forty… a minute passed. The streets grew quieter. The air smelled cleaner.
Then, the carriage slowed.
Now.
With a practiced movement, Orion swung himself onto the back, his gloved hands steady as he reached for the lock. A sharp click. The chest inside was heavy, but that only meant it held something valuable. He pried it open—
Chains.
Cold iron. A metallic scent. Shackles, neatly arranged in rows, engraved with ancient runes. The kind used for something far worse than imprisoning criminals.
What the hell is this?
The moment his fingers brushed against the chains, a whisper slithered through his mind.
"You were not meant to see this."
His vision blurred. Shadows stretched unnaturally around him, warping the air itself. Then, a hand—pale and twisted, emerging from the darkness—grabbed his wrist.
Pain. Cold. Silence.
The world disappeared.
The Abyss
Orion gasped. He was no longer in Noxhaven. The cobblestones, the carriage, the night sky—everything was gone.
He stood in an endless void, an expanse of shifting darkness stretching beyond comprehension. The ground beneath him felt solid yet unreal, like standing on liquid shadow. There was no sound. No wind. No light.
And yet, he was not alone.
Figures lurked at the edges of his vision. Not human. Not beasts either. Things with too many limbs, too many eyes—watching. Waiting.
A deep voice echoed from the abyss.
"You have been chosen."
Orion turned, but there was nothing behind him.
A sudden, searing pain burned into his chest. He staggered, clutching his ribs as something carved itself into his skin—a symbol, shifting and writhing like a living thing.
The Sigil of the Void Monarch.
His breath hitched. He had heard of Abyssal Sigils before—marks that granted supernatural power, allowing one to explore the Abyss without being devoured by it. But this… this was wrong.
"Devour or be devoured."
The voice whispered again.
And then—the shadows attacked.
The Birth of the Void Monarch
The creatures lunged, moving faster than the eye could follow. Claws slashed. Teeth snapped.
Orion barely had time to react before something struck his side, sending him tumbling across the abyssal ground. The pain was real. His body was real.
He was going to die.
No.
Something inside him stirred.
Instinct took over. His shadow moved—not just as a shape on the ground, but as an extension of himself. It lashed out like a living weapon, forming into a jagged spike that impaled the nearest creature.
The thing screeched, dissolving into darkness.
Orion panted. The shadows obeyed him.
He clenched his fist, and the darkness coiled around his arm like a second skin. His tattered clothes faded, replaced by a cloak of pure shadow, shifting and pulsing as if alive.
The remaining creatures hesitated.
He stepped forward. His shadow extended unnaturally, swallowing the space between them. A predator's presence.
For the first time in his life, Orion wasn't the one running.
He was the hunter.
---
Return to Noxhaven
When he woke, he was back in the alley. His body ached, his chest burned, but he was alive.
The mark on his skin remained. His clothes were gone, replaced by the shifting shadow-cloak that had formed in the Abyss. It moved with his thoughts, a part of him.
He looked around.
The carriage was gone. The city was quiet. But something had changed. The air felt heavier, as if unseen eyes were now watching him from the darkness.
And then, a whisper—not from the Abyss, but from the streets.
"Find him."
Orion's jaw clenched.
Whatever he had awakened, someone knew. And they were coming for him.
He pulled his hood up, the shadows wrapping around him like armor. He had no family, no allies, no place in this world. But now, he had something else.
Power.
And he would find out what it meant—before it consumed him.
...
Orion sat in the center of a wide, empty field, the sun low on the horizon casting long shadows that stretched like fingers toward him. His mind was racing, processing the rush of unfamiliar power that surged through his body ever since that fateful moment. He was no longer the same. His connection to the shadows was real, palpable, and he needed to understand it—he had no choice.
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, and focused. "Control," he whispered to himself.
With a flick of his hand, he felt the shadows around him respond, curling and stretching in a fluid motion. They obeyed his call, but the sensation was still foreign, unsteady. He extended his arm, the shadows twisting into a shape—faint at first, like a mere reflection in water. Then, with a surge of focus, he pushed harder. The shadow solidified, becoming a dark, slithering mass that extended in the shape of a blade at the edge of his fingertips.
A grin spread across his face. This is it.
The shadow sword shimmered as he swung it, the darkness slicing through the air, but it didn't feel like he imagined. There was no weight, no resistance—just a hollow emptiness. The sword struck a tree, and the bark barely scratched. The blade flickered and dissipated, vanishing into the air like smoke.
Orion frowned, stepping forward to examine his target. The tree was unmarred, as though the shadow had never touched it at all. "That's... disappointing," he muttered. His mind raced, seeking the answer.
He stretched his arm again, calling forth another blade, this time focusing on the sensation of the shadow coiling tighter around his hand. It solidified faster this time, a dark line that felt sharper—stronger. This time, when he swung it at the tree, the blade carved into the bark with more force, leaving a deep gash in the wood.
"Better," he murmured, his heart pounding. The power was there. He could feel it. But it wasn't easy. It required focus, precision, and something more—something he didn't quite understand yet.
Next, he turned his attention to the ground beneath him. The shadows of the grass and soil seemed to pulse with energy. He crouched, reaching out with his hand. The shadows responded, moving to his touch like liquid ink.
With a deep breath, he tested the next ability he felt stirring within him. Create a pathway.
The ground shifted, and from the shadow he commanded, a long, narrow tunnel opened up before him, a dark path beneath the earth. It was a shadowed world within a world—a gateway to a place he couldn't see but knew was there. The power was real, and for a moment, it felt as if he had touched the very essence of the earth itself.
Excitement surged through him, but then, the tunnel flickered, and the shadows collapsed back into the earth. He stumbled back, barely managing to stay on his feet as the power slipped away. The tunnel was gone, and the earth was whole again.
"That's it," he muttered, clenching his fists. "I can't let this slip."
Orion knew he had only scratched the surface of his abilities. There was more. The shadows were vast, like an ocean of untapped potential waiting for him to dive deeper. But what were the limits? What could he truly control?
With a final glance at the now empty field, he felt the familiar pull in his chest—a nagging sensation that urged him to discover more.
As he turned to leave, the shadows around him moved, shifting like a living thing, beckoning him forward.
...
Orion's thoughts were interrupted by a subtle shift in the air—a flicker at the edge of his vision. He stopped walking and instinctively reached out with his senses. The shadows around him, as if responding to his curiosity, seemed to stir, and for a brief moment, they almost felt like they were alive. His heart quickened.
Is this part of the power?
With a focused breath, he closed his eyes and stretched his mind. Instead of commanding the shadow into physical forms like blades or tunnels, he tried something different—something that felt instinctive, but foreign. He extended his awareness, reaching out to the shifting shadows around him.
The moment his consciousness made contact, his vision shifted.
His eyes opened, but the world he saw wasn't his own.
It was as if he were floating in the shadows themselves, seeing through them, feeling through them. The entire field stretched out before him, but through the lens of darkness—everything was now bathed in a cool, monochrome glow. He could see the faintest movements, the stir of insects beneath the grass, the subtle tremors in the earth that were imperceptible to the human eye.
He could see beyond the visible, hearing the world with an eerie clarity that was both unnatural and exhilarating. His mind raced with the sudden understanding—he could see through the shadows.
He was connected to them, his vision intertwined with their essence. A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth as he realized the potential. The shadows weren't just tools; they were extensions of him. They could be his eyes, his ears—his spies.
With a thought, he focused on a shadow stretching out across a nearby rock. His sight shifted again, and he found himself "looking" through that shadow as if it were a window into the real world.
From this vantage point, he could see the entire scene around the rock: the flutter of leaves, the distant chirp of birds, the scattering of small animals unaware of his presence.
"This is incredible," Orion whispered, excitement bubbling in his chest. He could now scout ahead, observe hidden things, and gain information without ever moving from his spot. The possibilities were endless.
He experimented further, sending his consciousness deeper into the shadows. He concentrated on a particularly long shadow cast by a distant tree, the darkness stretching toward him like an open mouth. Slowly, the shadow expanded, and Orion's vision followed it.
This time, the scene shifted.
He was no longer seeing the field, but the dark alleyways of a distant town. People moved through the shadows, unaware that they were being watched from a place neither of them could see or sense.
His mind recoiled in shock, but a laugh bubbled out of him.
"So I can even see through distant shadows? This is…" His voice trailed off as he started to understand the depth of what he was capable of.
But the thought of unlimited vision also came with a weight. There were dangers to using such a power. If someone noticed the shadow-watching, would they sense his presence? How could he control this connection, limit his exposure?
Orion's thoughts shifted back to the present. He let his connection with the shadows fade, snapping back to his own body as the world around him returned to its normal colors.
He shook his head, slightly dizzy from the mental exertion. "I have to learn how to control this."
He sat down on a nearby rock, breathing deeply to regain his composure. His mind buzzed with the potential, the power now at his fingertips. But the lingering questions remained. What more could he do with these shadows? How far did his connection go? Could he travel through them? Could they protect him?
He needed to test it. He needed to push his abilities further. But he also needed time—time to master this power before it mastered him.
With a renewed sense of purpose, he stood up and began to walk toward the edge of the forest. The shadows were still there, always watching, always waiting for him to command them.
And now, with the ability to share his vision with them, the world had never seemed so full of possibility.