The chamber was deathly silent. A thick mist of void energy coiled through the air, twisting like serpents around the black stone pillars. The torches lining the walls burned with an unnatural blue flame, casting eerie shadows across the vast throne room.
Malrik stood before the Void Altar, hands clasped behind his back, his mind deep in calculation.
Lyssara had engaged Kiran.
The boy had survived the Night Reapers, resisted the Hollow Mark's corruption, and now, he was learning to wield its power.
Too fast.
Malrik's patience was wearing thin. Kiran's growth should have been slower—more agonizing. But something was accelerating his transformation.
Something Malrik hadn't foreseen.
He exhaled slowly. This was not a setback.
No, this was an opportunity.
If Kiran wished to wield the power of the Void, then Malrik would give him exactly what he wanted.
And it would consume him whole.
The Summoning
Malrik lifted his hand, pressing his palm against the altar. The stone was ice-cold, pulsing with ancient energy.
With a murmured incantation, the altar shuddered.
A low hum filled the air. The torches flickered violently.
And then—a presence stirred.
A deep, guttural whisper echoed through the chamber, like a thousand voices speaking as one.
"You call upon the Abyss, Malrik. What do you seek?"
Malrik's lips curled into a cold smile. "A key to break the boy."
The whispers twisted into laughter, dark and knowing.
"Kiran walks the path of the Mark. You fear he will succeed?"
Malrik's fingers curled into a fist. "I fear nothing."
A pause. Then, the voices grew sharper, more direct.
"Then you understand the only way to stop him is to force him to submit."
Malrik's eyes darkened. "Yes."
The altar cracked, energy rippling outward like shattered glass.
And from the darkness, a figure emerged.
The Abyssborn
A towering entity stepped forward—its body shifting between shadow and flesh, its eyes nothing but glowing void orbs. It was neither human nor beast, a creature born from the deepest reaches of the Abyss itself.
Malrik did not flinch.
"You will do as I command," he said, voice cold as steel.
The creature tilted its head, its presence exuding raw, suffocating power.
"I will hunt. I will tear. I will break the boy."
Malrik nodded. "Good."
His fingers traced the hilt of his dagger as he stepped back.
"Kiran believes he is strong."
His gaze burned with ruthless intent.
"Let's show him what true despair feels like."
To Be Continued…