Cain's breath remained heavy as he pulled himself away from the golden core, his body still trembling from the weight of the vision. The warmth of the altar's light flickered against his skin, but the chamber around him suddenly felt colder, as if the knowledge he had gained had left something hollow in its wake.
His mind reeled. The Titans weren't just monsters of legend—they had been something more, something vast and powerful, beings of will and war, of creation and destruction. And yet, they had been erased, their existence reduced to ruins buried beneath the abyss.
And now, for reasons he still didn't understand, he carried the last remnants of what they once were.
The Titan Core inside him pulsed, no longer a foreign presence but a part of him, something woven into his very being. The warmth in his veins was not the same wild energy he had felt before—it was tempered, controlled. He could feel it now, not just as raw power but as something alive, something waiting.
But waiting for what?
A deep tremor rumbled through the ruins above, shaking dust from the ceiling. The echoes of the battle had not faded. The Hollow Watcher still fought, the Devourer still lurked, and the abyss remained hungry.
Cain exhaled, rolling his shoulders as he adjusted to the energy thrumming beneath his skin. His time was running out—he had to move.
He turned away from the altar, scanning the chamber for an exit. The pathway he had fallen through was impassable now, buried beneath layers of collapsed stone, but further ahead, the ruins stretched deeper. He could see faint engravings along the walls, glowing glyphs that pulsed in tandem with his own Titan Core.
It was leading him forward.
Cain clenched his fists and followed.
The passage narrowed as he walked, the walls pressing in, the air thickening with something unseen. It wasn't just the abyss that surrounded him—it was memory, echoes of what had once existed here. He could feel the weight of thousands of years pressing against the stone, whispers of a lost time buried beneath the decay.
His steps quickened.
Then he felt the shift.
A cold pulse ran through the chamber, like a heartbeat separate from his own. The mist curled unnaturally, the ruins seemed to shudder, and suddenly—he was not alone.
Cain froze, his body instinctively tensing as his ears caught the faintest sound. A slow, dragging movement against the stone. A presence slithering through the darkness.
His grip tightened on his weapon.
The glow of the glyphs dimmed, swallowed by the approaching presence. The air thickened, growing heavier, and the pressure on his chest increased, like a weight pressing against his very soul.
Then he saw it.
A figure emerged from the mist, tall and wrong, its body shifting as though it were not fully solid. It moved with an unnatural grace, its elongated limbs gliding across the stone without a sound. Its head was tilted, its hollow sockets fixated on him, twin abysses that leaked tendrils of shadow into the air.
It was one of the Forgotten Ones.
But unlike the creatures from before, this one was different. Its presence was sharper, its aura more defined.
It recognized him.
Cain's breath slowed. His instincts screamed at him to run, to move, but he held his ground. The Titan Core within him stirred, heat rising in his chest, and for the first time, he focused.
The energy inside him pulsed—not wild, not reckless, but controlled. It responded to his will, waiting, listening.
The Forgotten One took a step closer.
Cain raised his weapon.
The creature lunged.
Time seemed to slow. Cain saw the way its limbs moved, the way the air warped around its form, the way the mist curled at its edges. His mind processed the attack before his body reacted, his muscles tightening as he shifted his stance.
The Titan Core activated.
Cain stepped into the attack, meeting the creature head-on. His weapon struck first, slamming into the creature's outstretched limb. Instead of rebounding, the energy from his core flared, channeling through the metal, expanding outward in a pulse of force.
The impact sent the creature reeling, its body twisting unnaturally as it staggered back.
Cain didn't hesitate. He pressed forward, closing the gap before it could recover. His movements were sharp, deliberate—no wasted effort, no reckless swings. The Titan Core didn't just make him stronger. It made him precise.
His weapon struck again.
This time, the energy pierced through the creature's torso. The Forgotten One let out a sound—a distorted, unnatural wail—as its form shuddered violently. Cracks formed along its body, glowing lines of gold and blue splitting through the darkness.
Cain withdrew his weapon, taking a step back as the creature collapsed, its form dissolving into mist.
He stood there, panting, the weight of the fight settling in his limbs. The energy in his veins remained steady, no longer raging, no longer consuming him.
He had control now.
He exhaled slowly. He didn't know how long this control would last, or what it truly meant, but one thing was clear—he was changing.
And soon, the abyss would realize it too.
A deep, distant boom echoed through the ruins, shaking the ground beneath his feet.
The battle above was reaching its peak.
Cain turned toward the path ahead. He wasn't done yet.
He had come too far to stop now.