Cain stood at the edge of the chasm, his breath still uneven, his body aching from the climb. The Abyss yawned behind him, silent now, but he could still feel it, like a distant pull in the back of his mind. Even though he had escaped, it hadn't let him go. The weight of its presence still clung to him, as if it was watching, waiting for his return.
The sky above stretched vast and endless, its pale glow so different from the suffocating darkness he had endured below. Thin clouds drifted lazily across it, reflecting the distant light of Elysium, the floating city looming high above the world. Its golden towers gleamed, untouched by the horrors Cain had fought to survive. From up here, it was easy to believe the lies—the stories that claimed the Abyss was just a graveyard for the forsaken, that nothing ever returned from it.
But Cain had returned.
He exhaled, rolling his shoulders, feeling the Titan Core pulsing steadily in his chest. Not burning. Not raging. Controlled. He had changed, and the world above had no idea what was coming.
The first thing he needed was information. He had no idea how much time had passed since his fall. Days? Weeks? The Abyss had a way of distorting time. The second thing he needed was supplies—food, water, clothing that didn't look like it had been dragged through hell, because it had.
And lastly—he needed a plan.
Because Cain wasn't just going to survive anymore.
He was going to change everything.
His gaze drifted down the mountainside below him. The landscape stretched into a mixture of dense forests and rolling hills, the outskirts of civilization. The floating cities weren't the only places where people lived—down here, in the lesser territories, small towns and outposts clung to the edges of Elysium's dominion. That was where he needed to go first.
With a final glance toward the sky, Cain started walking.
The first thing he noticed was the silence.
No creatures lurking in the mist. No shifting shadows moving just out of sight. No constant feeling of being hunted. The Abyss had conditioned him to expect threats at all times, but up here, the only sound was the distant rustle of leaves in the wind.
It was unsettling.
He moved quickly, his pace steady, his body adjusting to the new terrain. The Titan Core within him remained active, subtly reinforcing his movements, making each step more efficient. He could feel how different his body had become—stronger, faster, more attuned to the world around him. The Abyss had sharpened him into something beyond human.
And soon, someone would notice.
It took nearly an hour of careful descent before he spotted the first sign of civilization. A small settlement, nestled between the trees, its wooden buildings clustered together in a loose arrangement. Smoke drifted from chimneys, the faint glow of lanterns flickering in the dimming light. A trade post, most likely—one of the many independent towns that operated beneath Elysium's shadow, surviving off scraps the floating cities allowed them to keep.
Cain paused at the tree line, scanning the area.
The people here wouldn't recognize him—he had been a nobody, a street orphan, one of hundreds that were thrown away without a second thought. But his appearance would raise questions. His clothes were still torn, his body scarred from battle, and he looked like someone who had crawled out of hell.
Which, in a way, he had.
He took a slow breath, steadying himself. He had two options—walk in openly, or stay to the shadows, gathering information first.
He chose the latter.
Moving silently, Cain slipped between the buildings, his body instinctively adjusting to the terrain. Every movement felt precise, his steps lighter than before, his senses sharper. He wasn't just moving—he was hunting.
It didn't take long before he overheard voices.
A group of traders sat outside a small tavern, their conversation casual, unaware of the shadow listening from the alley nearby.
"Did you hear about the anomaly near Sector Twelve?" one of them muttered, voice low. "The patrols haven't come back."
"Probably another wasteborn attack," another man grumbled. "Or raiders. They've been getting bolder these days."
"No, it's different this time." The first trader shook his head. "They say the ground split apart, like something woke up."
Cain's fingers twitched.
Sector Twelve. That was near the Abyss.
They were already noticing the changes.
He shifted slightly, angling his body so he could hear more without being seen.
"The Elysium Guard isn't saying anything," the trader continued. "But word is, they've sent out the Enforcers."
Cain's breath stilled.
Enforcers. Elysium's executioners. Elite warriors trained to hunt down anomalies, to erase anything that didn't belong. If they were already investigating the disturbances near the Abyss…
They would eventually come for him.
Cain exhaled slowly, stepping back into the shadows. He had heard enough.
He couldn't stay here for long. The floating cities might still be oblivious to his return, but that wouldn't last. Someone would talk. Someone would report the signs of the Titan energy leaking into the world again.
And then they would come hunting.
Cain's grip tightened.
Let them come.
He had survived the Abyss. He had awakened.
And he was done running.
For now, though, he needed to move. He stole through the back alleys, avoiding the main streets, slipping past patrols unnoticed. His body moved fluidly, the Titan Core adapting to the quiet, calculated pace of a predator stalking unseen.
A few minutes later, he found what he needed—an abandoned supply station near the outskirts of the settlement. Inside, old crates of gear were stacked against the walls, untouched for what looked like months. Cain dug through them quickly, pulling out a fresh set of clothing, a hooded cloak, and a few supplies. He strapped a light satchel to his waist, adjusting the fabric so it wouldn't hinder movement.
Better.
He no longer looked like a man who had crawled out of the Abyss.
Now, he looked like a ghost moving through the world, unseen.
As he stepped back into the night, Cain took one final look at the settlement behind him. These people had no idea what was coming. They still lived in ignorance, believing the world above was untouchable.
But Cain knew the truth now.
The Titans had not been destroyed.
They had been buried.
And it was only a matter of time before the world above realized its mistake.
Cain pulled his hood over his head, eyes burning faintly beneath the shadow of the fabric.
Then he disappeared into the night.