The city above them slept restlessly, unaware that something ancient stirred beneath its foundations.
Kael and Lira followed the map Marra had given them — a series of abandoned tunnels running deep under Nocturne's core. The air grew colder the farther they went, thick with dust and old whispers that weren't carried by any wind.
Lira kept the small lantern steady, its weak glow trembling in her hands. "How far down does this go?"
Kael glanced at her, voice low. "Farther than the city remembers. The first builders buried the old temples under the subway grid. That's where The Forgotten live."
"The ones who served your mother," she murmured.
He nodded grimly. "They called her the Shadow Queen. Half of Nocturne still believes she'll rise again."
The thought made Lira's chest tighten. What if she already has — through us?
---
They reached a dead end — a wall of ancient glass bricks that shimmered faintly even in darkness. Kael brushed his hand along its surface. "This isn't real," he muttered. "It's a veil."
He whispered a sigil in the old tongue, one his father had forbidden him to speak. The glass rippled like water, then melted away, revealing a hidden chamber beyond.
Lira exhaled softly. "How did you know that?"
"Because she taught me once," Kael said, stepping through. "Before my father tried to erase her from me."
Inside, the chamber glowed with ghostly light. Massive glass columns rose from the ground, each filled with swirling fragments of memory — shadows of people long dead, trapped mid-motion, their voices whispering endlessly.
Lira shivered. "What is this place?"
"A sanctum," Kael said quietly. "The Forgotten preserved echoes of their dead in crystal to remember what the world refused to."
As they moved deeper, movement flickered at the edge of the light. Figures emerged — cloaked in dark silks, faces hidden behind veils of glass.
One stepped forward, voice like a song sung through smoke. "Kael Varyn. The blood has returned."
Kael bowed his head slightly. "We came seeking the Forgotten. We were told you could help."
The figure laughed softly. "Help? No one comes to us for help. They come for absolution — or power. Which do you seek?"
Kael met her hidden gaze. "Control."
A pause. Then: "Follow."
---
They were led through winding corridors carved from obsidian and glass. The walls pulsed faintly, alive with veins of crimson light. At the center stood a vast chamber — part temple, part tomb.
An ancient throne sat empty on a dais. Behind it, a stained glass mural depicted a woman cloaked in shadow, her hand raised over a burning city.
Lira stopped short. "That's her," she whispered. "Your mother."
Kael's eyes hardened. "They still worship her."
The leader turned, lowering her veil. She was older than Kael expected, her skin marked by runes that glowed softly beneath her eyes. "We honor her," she corrected. "Without the Shadow Queen, the Council would have burned us all. You bear her fire, Kael. You and the girl."
Lira stiffened. "I'm not—"
"Yes, you are," the woman interrupted. "The bond already sings. I can hear it."
Kael's voice was sharp. "We didn't come here for prophecy."
"Then why are you here?"
He hesitated. "To stop it."
The woman studied him, then smiled faintly. "You can't stop what's written in blood. But perhaps you can survive it. If you're willing to be tested."
Kael glanced at Lira. "Tested how?"
The woman extended her hand. The shadows deepened around them, swallowing light. "By the glass."
---
The chamber shifted — walls melting into mirrors that stretched into infinity. Lira gasped; her reflection stared back a thousand times over. The leader's voice echoed everywhere and nowhere.
"Step forward, both of you. The glass remembers truth. It shows the thing you fear most."
Kael felt the air grow heavy. "This isn't necessary—"
But the ground cracked beneath him, and suddenly he was alone.
The reflections twisted, showing fragments of his past — his father's scorn, his mother's fire, the day he'd first used magic and nearly burned a man alive.
Then, in one mirror, he saw himself — older, darker, sitting on the Shadow Throne, his hands stained with blood. The city burning around him.
This is what you'll become, the glass whispered. No matter how hard you run.
Kael's breath came ragged. The shadows within him surged, hungry, clawing for release. He fell to his knees, gripping the pendant at his neck.
"Not this time," he growled.
He forced the power back — and the mirror shattered with a sound like a scream.
---
Elsewhere, Lira stood frozen before her own reflection. But it wasn't fear she saw — it was emptiness.
The mirror showed her standing in a field of glass, surrounded by thousands of sleeping souls, all whispering her name. She reached out — and saw her own face among them, eyes open but lifeless.
She stumbled back. "No. That's not me."
Her reflection smiled. "You were made, not born. You are the vessel — the missing half."
The words hit like a knife. She screamed, and the mirror cracked. Power surged through her hands, fracturing every reflection in a chain of blue lightning until the illusion shattered.
---
The temple returned. Kael knelt, panting; Lira stood trembling but alive. The leader of the Forgotten watched them, expression unreadable.
"You both survived the Glass," she said. "Few do."
Kael rose unsteadily. "What was the point of that?"
"To see if you could resist what lives inside you. To prove you are more than your blood."
"And if we hadn't?" Lira asked quietly.
"Then we would have buried you with the others."
Kael wiped the blood from his lip. "You said you could help us."
The woman inclined her head. "And I will. But first, you must complete the Blood Oath before it consumes you."
Lira's eyes widened. "You mean strengthen it?"
"No — control it. The bond ties your souls. If left unchecked, it will devour the weaker one. To survive, you must balance it."
Kael frowned. "How?"
The woman reached into her cloak and drew out a shard of crimson glass — glowing faintly like a heartbeat. "With this. A relic from the first Bloodborn. It will bind your power in unity, or destroy you both."
She held it out. "Decide quickly. The moon bleeds again tonight."
Kael looked at Lira. She stared back, fear flickering behind her resolve.
"If we do this," she said softly, "there's no going back."
Kael nodded. "There never was."
He took the shard. It pulsed between them — red light weaving from his chest to hers, threads of energy wrapping around their hands. Pain seared through both of them, but neither pulled away.
The leader whispered, "Say the words."
Kael's voice was hoarse. "By blood and shadow, we are bound. By fire and ruin, we endure."
Lira repeated it, her voice shaking — and the relic shattered into dust.
Light exploded outward, flooding the temple. Kael felt their hearts sync — one pulse, one breath, one shared flame. For a brief, blinding moment, he saw into her — her fear, her strength, her unspoken sorrow. And he knew she saw his too.
Then the light died, and they collapsed.
When they woke, the temple was silent. The leader's voice echoed faintly from the dark. "It is done. The bond is sealed. But the city has felt it. Every hunter will come for you now."
Kael rose, dizzy but alive. Lira's fingers brushed his, unintentional, but the touch steadied him.
He looked up at the stained glass of his mother — her shadowed eyes watching. "Let them come."
Outside, the moon was bleeding again — brighter, redder. And in the depths of Nocturne City, the Council began to move.