Aetheron's mind drifted in darkness.
Floating.
Weightless.
He couldn't tell if he was awake or dreaming.
Then—
A voice echoed through the void.
"You cannot resist."
Aetheron's breath hitched.
It wasn't his own voice.
It was something deeper. Something that didn't belong to this world.
He struggled to move, to fight—
But his body wouldn't respond.
Then—
He fell.
Plunging into the abyss, shadows wrapped around him, pulling him into something far worse than death.
Awakening
Aetheron's eyes snapped open.
Pain shot through his body like fire.
He gasped, pushing himself up.
Where—
His vision swam, but he could make out his surroundings.
A dimly lit room. Old stone walls. A faint glow from lanterns.
He wasn't in his quarters anymore.
He was somewhere else.
And he wasn't alone.
Sitting across from him, calmly watching—
Was the golden-eyed man.
Aetheron tensed.
"Good," the man said. "You're awake."
Aetheron's fingers curled into fists. "Where the hell am I?"
The man didn't answer immediately. He studied Aetheron, as if evaluating him.
Then he spoke.
"You stand at the threshold of something greater, Aetheron."
Aetheron clenched his teeth. "Cut the cryptic talk. Who are you?"
The man smiled.
"My name is Kael Veydris."
Aetheron narrowed his eyes.
That name—
It was familiar.
Then it hit him.
Veydris.
The leader of the Sovereign's Hunters.
One of the most feared factions in existence.
Aetheron's muscles tensed. "What do you want?"
Kael's gaze remained unreadable.
"I want to see what you will become."
Aetheron frowned.
Then—
Pain seared through his chest.
He gritted his teeth, clutching at his skin.
The mark.
The dark, jagged inscription carved into his flesh.
"What the hell did you do to me?" Aetheron growled.
Kael leaned forward slightly.
"I gave you a piece of the Sovereign's power."
Aetheron's blood ran cold.
That name.
The Sovereign.
A being of absolute power. The one who stood at the pinnacle, above all others.
And Kael—
He had marked him with it.
"Why?" Aetheron asked, voice sharp.
Kael's expression remained calm. "Because you are the only one who can withstand it."
Aetheron forced himself to breathe steadily. His body still felt off—like something inside him was different.
Stronger.
Darker.
More hungry.
Kael rose from his seat. "You have a choice, Aetheron. You can fight it…"
He took a step forward.
"Or you can embrace it."
Aetheron met his gaze.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Then—
Kael vanished.
Like he had never been there in the first place.
Aetheron exhaled, finally letting his body relax.
His hand hovered over the mark on his chest.
It pulsed beneath his fingers.
What the hell had he just gotten himself into?
The Hunters Move
Aetheron made his way back to his quarters, mind racing.
He didn't trust Kael.
Not even for a second.
But the man hadn't killed him.
Which meant he still needed him for something.
That was even worse.
As he entered his room, a familiar voice greeted him.
"You look like you saw a ghost."
Aetheron turned.
Rael was leaning against the wall, arms crossed.
Aetheron sighed. "Something like that."
Rael's eyes sharpened. "You disappeared. Thought maybe the Sovereign's Hunters finally made a move on you."
Aetheron hesitated.
He wasn't ready to tell Rael everything.
Not yet.
"Just ran into trouble," he muttered.
Rael didn't look convinced.
But before he could press further, there was a knock at the door.
Aetheron exchanged a glance with Rael.
Tension filled the room.
Slowly, Aetheron opened the door.
A messenger stood outside.
"Aetheron," they said, voice urgent. "The Sovereign's Hunters have made their move."
Aetheron's blood turned to ice.
"What?"
"Their agents infiltrated the arena," the messenger continued. "They took someone."
Aetheron's heart pounded. "Who?"
The messenger hesitated.
Then—
"Aria."
Aetheron's mind went blank.
For a moment, he thought he had misheard.
But no—
The words were real.
His stomach twisted.
Aria was gone.
And the Hunters had taken her.
Aetheron gritted his teeth.
His vision blurred as his pulse hammered in his ears.
Kael's voice echoed in his mind.
"You have a choice, Aetheron."
His fingers curled into fists.
This wasn't a choice.
This was war.