The ruins of Vael’Thalos stood silent in the cold night air.

Not the kind of silence that brought peace—but the kind that listened. The kind that waited.

Kael stood at the crumbling edge of an ancient stairwell, staring into the abyss below. Darkness stretched beyond sight, tunnels carved into stone, veins leading to a forgotten heart. This was their only escape.

But escape wasn’t the same as freedom.

He gritted his teeth. "You expect me to step into something I don’t understand. Again."

The nameless man beside him remained still, unreadable in the dim torchlight. "Not expect. Demand."

Kael clenched his fists. "And if I refuse?"

The woman—the one who had led him this far—exhaled sharply. "Then you’ll die. Soon."

She turned her gaze toward the ruins above, her body tense. "The Imperium is already coming. You hear that?"

Kael listened.

At first, nothing. Then—a sound.

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Metal against stone. A distant, rhythmic march.

They were out of time.

The nameless man spoke, voice calm despite the urgency. "They won’t stop hunting you, Forsaken. Not until you’re either dead or worse."

Kael’s jaw tightened. "Worse?"

The man nodded toward the stairwell. "If they take you alive, you won’t die a man. The Imperium has ways of breaking those who resist." His voice lowered. "And you, Forsaken, are something they cannot afford to let roam free."

Kael had seen what the Imperium did to those they considered threats. He had been their weapon once, their enforcer. Before the Mark changed everything.

Now, they would see him as something else. An anomaly. A danger. A problem to be erased.

Kael looked down at his hand, fingers flexing. Beneath his skin, the Mark pulsed, silent and waiting.

The nameless man studied him. "You are more than they realize. More than they fear. But power without understanding leads to ruin. If you step into those tunnels, you may find the answers you seek." His gaze darkened. "Or you may lose what little of yourself remains."

Kael’s breath was slow, measured.

If he turned back now, he would face them. Face execution. Face the end.

But if he went forward—if he took that step into the unknown—he might lose himself in ways worse than death.

A choice.

One that had already been made for him.

From above—a distant sound.

A barked order. A clanking of armor. They were closer.

The woman’s voice sharpened. "Move. Now."

Kael exhaled, tightening his grip on his sword.

His choice was no longer his own.

With one last breath, he stepped forward— And let the darkness swallow him whole.