The night pressed in around them, thick and suffocating. The ruins were silent once more, but Kael could still feel the echo of what had just happened. The Mark had moved before he could even think. The Voidborn had fled from him.
And something deep inside him whispered that this was only the beginning.
He exhaled, turning to the nameless man. "They ran," Kael muttered. "Why?"
The man was quiet for a long moment before answering. "Because they saw something."
Kael frowned. "Saw what?"
The man’s gaze was unreadable. "A glimpse of what you could become."
Kael’s fists clenched. He didn’t like that answer. He didn’t like the idea that his fate was already written.
The woman—who had been silent all this time—finally spoke. "We need to move. The Voidborn may have retreated, but that doesn’t mean we’re safe."
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Kael tore his eyes away from the darkness where the creatures had vanished. "Where are we going?"
The nameless man glanced toward the crumbling ruins ahead. "There’s someone you need to meet."
Kael narrowed his eyes. "Another survivor?"
A pause. Then—"Not exactly."
A chill ran through him.
Still, he followed.
They moved deeper into the ruins, past collapsed archways and worn statues that time had all but consumed. The deeper they went, the heavier the air became—as if the ruins themselves were holding their breath.
Finally, they arrived.
At the center of the ruins stood a massive obsidian gate, half-buried in rubble. It wasn’t like the other structures—this one felt different, untouched by time. Strange symbols pulsed faintly across its surface, shifting like living ink.
Kael’s stomach twisted.
The Mark burned.
"This," the nameless man said, "is where the truth begins."
Kael stepped forward, drawn to the gate against his own will. The Mark pulsed harder, his veins burning like molten steel.
He didn’t understand it.
But something was calling to him.
And for the first time, he wondered—
Was he chasing the truth?
Or was it leading him?