Cain's body still trembled as he pushed himself off the cold stone, the golden energy within him dimming but not fading. His limbs ached from exertion, his breath still ragged from the battle, but his mind remained sharp. He had faced something beyond human comprehension and survived.
Not by running.
Not by overpowering it.
But by proving he wasn't broken.
His hands curled into fists as he steadied himself. The creature—whatever it had been—had left. Not defeated, but retreating. It had seen something in him. Recognized something.
And that meant Cain was no longer just another forsaken soul lost in the Abyss. He was something else now.
The chamber was silent once more, the massive gate standing wide open, its ancient glyphs flickering as if exhausted from what had just transpired. Whatever had been locked away was no longer fully contained, but Cain knew this wasn't over.
Not yet.
A slow, rhythmic thrum pulsed from beyond the gate, a vibration in the air that resonated within his chest. The Titan Core inside him responded instinctively, its energy aligning with the unseen force ahead. Cain exhaled, adjusting his stance.
There was only one way forward.
He stepped through the gate.
The shift was immediate.
The air changed—heavier, charged with something old, something untouched by time. The ruins beyond the gate were unlike the ones he had traversed before. There was no sign of decay, no shattered remnants of a once-great civilization. Instead, the walls stood pristine, dark stone lined with glowing veins of golden energy.
The architecture was seamless, unnatural in its perfection. Every line, every carving, every surface was deliberate. This was no mere ruin.
It was a sanctum.
Cain moved cautiously, his footsteps muffled by the smooth stone beneath him. The deeper he went, the more he felt the presence of something vast pressing against the edges of his awareness. Not oppressive. Not hostile.
Just watching.
He passed towering monoliths, their surfaces etched with Titanic script, the language of beings long erased from history. The glyphs flickered as he moved past them, responding to his presence, recognizing the Titan Core that burned within him.
At the heart of the sanctum, a massive pillar of golden energy pulsed, stretching from floor to ceiling, its light casting shifting shadows across the chamber. It wasn't just light—it was power made manifest.
And at its base, something waited.
Cain stopped, his breath catching as he took in the sight before him.
A statue—or at least, that's what it seemed to be at first. A massive, armored figure knelt at the foot of the energy pillar, its form encased in blackened metal, its head bowed, its hands resting upon the hilt of an immense blade driven into the stone. The armor was ancient, cracked with age, yet still thrumming with latent power.
And then its fingers moved.
Cain's entire body tensed.
The figure shifted, the deep, grating sound of metal scraping against metal filling the air as it began to rise. The chamber shook, the very stone vibrating beneath Cain's feet as the being slowly lifted its head.
Golden light flared from within the cracks in its armor, and two burning eyes snapped open, locking onto him.
Cain's pulse pounded in his ears.
The Titan Sentinel had awakened.
For a moment, neither of them moved. The silence was deafening. The energy in the air thickened, pressing against Cain's skin, testing, measuring.
Then the Sentinel spoke.
"You… carry the remnants."
The voice was deep, ancient, layered with the weight of countless years. It wasn't just sound—it was power, vibrating through the stone, through Cain's very bones.
He swallowed hard, standing his ground. "Yeah. I figured that out."
The Sentinel stepped forward. The sheer weight of its presence sent cracks through the stone beneath it, its massive form moving with an unnatural grace.
"You are incomplete."
Cain exhaled through his nose. "You're the second thing today to tell me that."
The Sentinel did not react to the sarcasm. It simply lifted its head, studying him with those burning eyes.
"And yet… you endure."
Cain didn't know whether that was a compliment or another test.
The Titan's gaze flickered toward the Titan Core within him.
"You seek purpose. You seek strength. But you do not yet understand what you are."
Cain's jaw tightened. "Then tell me."
The Sentinel paused. Then, with slow deliberation, it raised a single hand.
The air trembled.
The golden energy at the heart of the sanctum flared, surging outward in a radiant wave. Cain braced himself as the light engulfed him, but instead of burning, it filled him.
And suddenly—
The world fell away.
Cain was no longer in the sanctum.
He stood upon an endless battlefield. The sky above burned with golden fire, and around him, Titans clashed with beings of impossible form. Massive figures, wreathed in molten energy, wielding weapons that carved through reality itself.
This was their final stand.
Cain saw Titans fall, one by one. Their bodies collapsed into the abyss, their power stolen, their names erased. The sky shattered, and in its place, the floating cities of Elysium rose.
The world had forgotten.
The Titans had been betrayed.
Cain gasped as the vision shattered, his mind snapping back into the sanctum. He staggered, barely catching himself before falling to one knee. His chest heaved, his pulse racing.
He looked up at the Titan Sentinel, his breath still shaky.
"They were never the enemy." His voice was quiet, but firm.
The Sentinel nodded once.
"The truth was buried."
Cain clenched his fists. "And the ones who did it… they're still up there."
"Yes."
The silence stretched between them. Cain felt the weight of everything pressing down on him—his past, the power inside him, the truth he had just seen.
But there was no hesitation.
No doubt.
Only purpose.
The Sentinel extended its hand toward him, the golden energy surging once more.
"Then rise, Vessel of the Forsaken Titan."
Cain exhaled slowly. Then he stepped forward, and took it.