The world folds in on itself.
Screams erupt.
Wet. Raw. Human.
The darkness moves like water over stone—rippling, pulsing, breathing.
Every strike, every heartbeat, it feeds.
The first to fall are the workers.
They do not even run.
A single touch from the shadows snatches them under—limbs thrash, voices warp into choking gasps before dissolving into silence.
Their bodies vanish... but the sound clings to the air.
A grotesque harmony of bone and blood, cracking and melting into black sludge.
John, Daren, and Nicholas fight back—swords flash, aura flares—but the darkness is faster.
Each swing cuts mist.
Each blast of mana only fattens the hunger.
---
"Kael! Stop this!" John shouts, his voice breaking between coughs of dust.
"Wake up!" Daren roars, slamming his gauntlet into the tide.
Their words barely reach me.
They echo like voices through deep water.
I watch them through a haze of black light—their faces twist, their mouths form my name—but it is all so distant.
All I hear is the laughter.
Noctharion's laughter.
Deep. Vast. Merciful in its cruelty.
The darkness obeys his will.
Tendrils burst from the ground, latching onto limbs.
John's blade glows bright for a heartbeat—then dims as shadow pierces through his chest.
His eyes widen. He reaches toward me.
"Kael—"
Then he is gone. Swallowed whole.
Daren charges next, roaring, but the sound gurgles away as the tendrils coil around his throat.
Nicholas tries to pull him free—then both disappear beneath the flood.
"Kael!"
Gareth's voice tears through the chaos.
He is the last one standing.
His aura flares, gold against black.
He leaps, spearless, fury in his eyes.
"Snap out of it!"
But before his hand can touch me—
Shhhk.
A tendril erupts from my side, impaling him clean through.
The ground trembles.
Blood splatters across my face—hot, living, human.
Gareth's lips move soundlessly.
Then the dark takes him too.
Silence.
Heavy. Eternal.
Only I remain, standing in a writhing sea of shadow, surrounded by what were my comrades.
Their voices are gone.
Only memories remain.
Then the darkness moves again—slow, melodic, almost mournful.
It drifts toward me, brushing against my legs, humming a sound that could almost be sorrow.
And then it slides toward her.
Toward the girl whose hand I still hold.
Mia.
Black tendrils reach for her cheek, caressing it gently—as if asking me for permission.
For a moment, they hesitate.
Then hunger takes hold.
The darkness devours her feet first.
Her legs.
Her torso.
Her chest.
Only her hand remains in mine.
"Stop…" I whisper.
The shadows shudder, vibrating with anger at being denied their meal.
"Leave her alone!" I scream.
And the darkness obeys.
Slowly, grudgingly, it pulls back.
Mia's body, half-consumed, half-born from the void, reforms in my arms—pale, cold, lifeless.
The silence lingers.
Not the peaceful kind.
The kind that hums—alive, oppressive, filled with what it has just taken.
The shadows around me twitch like living nerves, feeding, pulsing with faint light.
I can feel them—the echoes of the ones they consumed.
John's final plea, Daren's rage, Nicholas's panic, Gareth's fury—all twisted, muffled, still screaming somewhere deep inside the dark.
Their voices scrape against my skull.
I stumble back, clutching my head.
"Stop… stop it…"
But the whispers only grow louder.
They sound not human anymore.
They sound hungry.
Something warm runs down my cheek—blood or tears, I can't tell anymore.
The metallic, thick smell of iron fills my lungs.
All around, the chamber lies in ruin.
Walls crack. Torches are snuffed out.
The floor is slick, glistening black—a pool of shadow breathing in slow rhythm.
And in the middle of it, my reflection stares back at me.
Eyes glow faint crimson.
Veins darken like burned threads beneath my skin.
A monster wearing my face.
I drop to my knees.
My hands tremble, shaking so violently I can't tell if it is fear… or the raw power still coursing through me.
"No…" My voice is barely a whisper. "I do not mean to…"
Noctharion's voice answers—low and patient, like a father humoring a child.
"You mean everything, Kael."
I flinch.
The air vibrates with his presence.
The shadows crawl closer, wrapping around my boots, my legs, my wrists—like a lover's touch or a chain tightening.
"This is what you ask for, isn't it?" he murmurs.
"Strength. Power. The will to protect."
"I do not want this!" I scream, pounding the ground.
The sound echoes back, hollow.
"Lies."
The darkness rises to my chin, cold and soft.
"I can feel it in you—the thrill. The release. The peace that comes when you stop holding back."
My breath catches.
Because for a heartbeat…
He is right.
That moment when the world breaks—when all fear vanishes—there is something else.
Relief.
Clarity.
The suffocating weight of weakness is gone.
I shake my head.
Pain rips through my body like lightning tearing through nerves.
It is not just pain—it is consumption.
A raging, hungry force.
My veins bulge beneath my skin, glowing faint crimson as if molten metal runs through them.
The blood inside me burns—thick, heavy, alive.
It surges faster, hotter, until it threatens to shatter my ribcage.
The darkness I unleash now turns inward.
I can feel it—the weight of every soul it devours—crashing into me like a wave.
John. Daren. Nicholas. Gareth.
Each one's essence—fear, rage, defiance—folds into my flesh, into my blood.
My muscles twist and expand, cords of sinew tightening under the strain.
Every heartbeat sends tremors down my arms; every breath comes out as steam, scalding the air.
Bones creak, stretch, reshape.
The shadows do not just surround me anymore—they bleed into me.
Like ink sinking into paper.
Like poison seeping into a wound.
Dark veins crawl across my arms, spreading from my fingertips to my neck, pulsing with eerie red light.
Each pulse carries whispers—distorted voices claw at the inside of my skull.
Fragments of those I consume.
Kael… why?
Save us…
Join us…
I gasp, clutching my chest—but the heartbeat isn't mine anymore.
It is heavier.
Deeper.
Inhuman.
Cracks appear along my skin—faint lines of light searing through the surface, glowing red like magma.
Then the ground beneath me splits apart, releasing streams of black mist that coil around my legs.
The air stinks of iron and smoke.
The earth groans as if rejecting me.
My eyes burn—vision floods red—until the world melts into shades of shadow and flame.
Everything around me vibrates with life—not my own, but something vast and ancient.
Noctharion's presence presses down like a mountain.
"Yes…" his voice coils through my thoughts.
"Let it burn, Kael. Let it become you."
My scream tears through the air—half agony, half triumph.
The black tendrils snatch onto me completely, sinking themselves into my skin, fusing with every nerve.
And then—
Boom.
A shockwave erupts from my body.
The darkness explodes outward, ripping through stone and ash, consuming everything in its wake.
Flames turn black.
Air freezes.
When the dust settles, I stand at the center of the ruin.
Smoke curls from my skin.
My breath comes out in slow, heavy exhales—dark mist with every sigh.
The pain is gone.
The weakness—gone.
Only silence remains.
In its place… a pulse of raw, endless power.
The fortress lies silent—its heart devoured—and Kael Thorne stands reborn, wrapped in darkness that whispers with the voices of the dead.