Kael stepped through the door.
The air shifted the moment he crossed the threshold. It was heavier—thicker, like stepping into a world that had been frozen in time. His boots echoed against smooth obsidian flooring, but the sound was swallowed instantly by the vast, empty space around him.
A hall stretched endlessly before him, lined with towering pillars carved with unfamiliar symbols. Faint violet light pulsed from the etchings, casting eerie shadows that seemed to move on their own.
And at the end of the hall, a throne.
It was enormous—crafted from the same abyssal stone as the walls, but it shimmered with an unnatural luster, as if woven from condensed darkness itself. Chains coiled around its arms and base, glowing with ancient runes meant to seal whatever power lay within it.
Kael took another step, his fingers curling into fists.
Why does this feel so… familiar?
A whisper brushed against his mind.
"At last… you return."
Kael froze.
The voice didn't come from the throne. It came from everywhere. From the walls, the air, the very foundation of this forgotten place.
Then, the shadows twisted.
From the darkness, a figure emerged—tall and draped in tattered robes that shimmered between reality and nothingness. Its face was hidden beneath a hood, but Kael could feel its gaze drilling into him.
"You are late," the figure said, its voice layered with echoes, as if multiple beings spoke at once.
Kael narrowed his eyes. "You know me."
The figure tilted its head. "Do you know yourself?"
Kael didn't answer. He couldn't. He didn't have the answer.
"Then it is as I feared," the figure sighed. "You are incomplete. The seal upon you remains strong."
"Seal?" Kael repeated, tension coiling in his chest.
The figure raised a hand, and the violet runes along the throne pulsed in response. "This place was meant to remain hidden until the rightful heir returned. And yet, here you stand—untethered, uncertain. A fractured existence wandering blindly."
Kael's heart pounded. "What are you talking about?"
The figure exhaled. "You are not merely Kael. That name is but a fragment of what you were. What you are."
A memory flickered in his mind—whispers of a time before his rebirth. A war fought in the abyss, a throne left forsaken, and a name—one that had been stolen from him.
"Who… am I?" Kael asked, his voice barely a whisper.
The figure raised a skeletal hand. "That is the question, is it not? But I will not simply hand you the answer. If you wish to reclaim what was lost, you must prove yourself."
The air trembled. The darkness around them shifted.
Kael's instincts flared—something was coming.
A deep, guttural growl rumbled through the chamber as massive chains burst from the ground, writhing like living serpents. The throne shook, and the shadows pulled away, revealing something bound beneath it.
A beast.
No, not just a beast—a guardian.
Towering, monstrous, with obsidian scales and hollow eyes that burned with violet fire. Its body was bound in runes, its limbs shackled, its very presence screaming of destruction restrained.
"If you wish to take back your fate," the figure said, stepping aside, "then survive."
The chains snapped.
The guardian roared, and the world around them shattered into battle.