The air tasted of rust and burnt sugar.
Lysandra Thorn stirred, her cheek pressed against cold stone, the remnants of Vorion's ritual chamber still clinging to her skin like a second shadow. Her gloves were gone, her palms raw and throbbing. The Mark—a crescent-shaped scar that had haunted her since childhood—glowed faintly, silver light bleeding through her fingers.
*Get up.*
Her mother's voice, sharp and clear, cut through the fog in her mind. Lysandra staggered to her feet, her boots slipping on a slick of her own blood. The Obsidian Tower stretched around her, its walls alive with pulsating crimson veins that hummed like a hive of wasps. She'd seen sketches of the Tower in her mother's archives, but the drawings had failed to capture its malice. The air itself seemed to press against her lungs, heavy with the weight of centuries of swallowed screams.
**[SYSTEM: INITIALIZING…]**
Golden text seared across her vision. Lysandra recoiled, slamming her back against the wall.
"What in the Seven Hells—?"
**[WELCOME, DESIGNATE: ECLIPSEBORNE]**
**[BLOODLINE PURITY: 12.7%]**
**[OBJECTIVE: SURVIVE THE FIRST FLOOR]**
The words flickered, jagged and unstable, as if resisting their own existence. Lysandra pressed her marked palm to the Tower's wall. The stone shuddered, a low groan reverberating through the chamber.
*"You're awake,"* the Tower murmured, its voice a chorus of whispers that echoed inside her skull. *"How… disappointing."*
Lysandra bared her teeth. "Let me out."
*"Earn your exit, little thief."*
A guttural snarl echoed down the corridor. Lysandra froze as a creature emerged—a **Duskfiend**, its obsidian hide bristling with jagged spines, six eyes burning like coals in a forge. The Mark on her palm flared, and golden text erupted again:
**[ENEMY ANALYZED: DUSKFIEND (TIER 1)]**
**[WEAKNESS: CRYSTAL CORE IN THROAT]**
**[SUGGESTED ACTION: FLEE]**
*Flee?* Lysandra's laugh was brittle. *Where?*
The Duskfiend lunged.
---
**Memory Fragment: Age 9**
*"Never let them see the Mark," her father warned, tightening her gloves after a sparring match. His hands, calloused from decades wielding a sword, trembled. "Not even the tutors."*
*"But why?" Lysandra flexed her fingers, the hidden scar itching.*
*Her mother's quill paused over a star chart. "Because hungry men see blessings as meals, little star."*
---
Lysandra ducked as the Duskfiend's claws tore into the wall above her head. Shards of crystal rained down, slicing her cheek. She grabbed a jagged fragment and lunged, driving it into the beast's throat.
**[CRITICAL STRIKE!]**
**[DUSKFIEND SLAIN]**
**[BLOODLINE PURITY: 17.3%]**
The corpse dissolved into black mist, leaving behind a pulsing crimson shard. Lysandra snatched it, the Mark on her palm burning hotter.
**[VOIDSHARD ACQUIRED]**
**[SYNTHESIZING ABILITY: NIGHTFALL GAZE]**
Power surged through her—a foreign, vicious heat. She blinked, and the world fractured into shades of gold and shadow.
*"Interesting."*
Lysandra whirled. A man leaned against the far wall, his academy uniform torn and stained, a smirk playing on his lips. **Serin Veyra**, the dropout who'd vanished after sabotaging Vorion's lecture on "ethical ascension." His left sleeve was rolled up, revealing a faint, glowing brand—a phoenix mid-flight.
"You're supposed to be dead," she said coldly.
"You're supposed to be a loyal little prodigy." Serin pushed off the wall, tossing a Voidshard between his fingers. "Guess we're both disappointments."
**[SYSTEM NOTICE: POTENTIAL ALLY DETECTED]**
**[DESIGNATE: SERIN VEYRA // BLOODLINE: PHOENIXBORN]**
Lysandra's grip tightened on her crystal shiv. "Stay back."
"Relax, Thorn. If I wanted you dead, I'd have let the Duskfiend finish its snack." He nodded at her Mark. "Vorion's hunting you. Sent three Wardens to 'cleanse' the Tower."
"Wardens?"
As if summoned, the walls shuddered. Gilded armor clanked in the distance, followed by the hiss of igniting plasma blades.
"Ah." Serin's smirk faded. "Right on schedule."
---
**Memory Fragment: Age 14**
*Vorion's hand clamped her shoulder as they stood before the academy gates. "You will be safe here," he lied. "No one will know what you are."*
*Lysandra adjusted her gloves. "What am I?"*
*His eyes gleamed. "Mine."*
---
The Wardens rounded the corner—faceless in their mirrored helmets, their armor etched with the academy's crest. The leader leveled a blade at Lysandra.
"**Lysandra Thorn. By decree of Headmaster Vorion, you are hereby sentenced to eradication.**"
Serin snorted. "Eradication? Pretentious prick."
Lysandra's Nightfall Gaze activated on instinct. Golden light lanced from her eyes, freezing the lead Warden mid-stride. Serin moved like smoke, his dagger finding the chink in the second Warden's armor. The third lunged at Lysandra—
She sidestepped, driving her shiv into his visor.
**[WARDEN SLAIN]**
**[BLOODLINE PURITY: 22.1%]**
The Mark pulsed, euphoria and nausea warring in her gut. Serin watched her, his gaze unreadable.
"How long have you been here?" she demanded.
"Long enough to know the Tower's a lie." He kicked a Warden's helmet. "Vorion's not cleansing corruption. He's farming it. These idiots?" He gestured to the bodies. "Fuel for his ascension."
Lysandra's throat tightened. *Fuel. Like my parents. Like me.*
"Why help me?"
Serin tapped his phoenix brand. "Bloodlines stick together. Plus, you're the first person in here who hasn't tried to eat me."
**[SYSTEM: ALLIANCE FORMED]**
**[SYNERGY UNLOCKED: ECLIPSEBORNE + PHOENIXBORN]**
The Tower's walls rippled, a new corridor forming. Somewhere in the dark, something ancient laughed.
*"Climb, little liars. I do love a tragedy."*
---
**Epigraph:**
*"The Tower does not judge. It devours all equally—heroes, villains, and the fools who think themselves different."*
—Scrawled in blood on the Second Floor's gate.