The sky above the battlefield was gray with drifting smoke, streaked by distant embers that still fell from shattered trees and burned-out wreckage. The wind carried the stench of blood, fire, and something fouler—like rot beneath magic. Dreadhold's outer plains were scorched, cracked open by the force of the earlier clash.
And in the center of that silence stood Luna and Eclipse.
The twin wolf demons knelt in the blackened grass, their once-pristine armor torn and bloodied, their eyes hollow. Eclipse's glaive lay shattered beside her, and Luna's blade was buried in the earth, trembling in her grasp. Both were still, breathing shallowly, watching the distant trail of smoke where Kael had been taken—snatched from them by the cult like a phantom in the night.
Then a pulse rolled across the ground. Like thunder without sound.
And she arrived.
Lyra descended in a storm of light, her obsidian cloak billowing as she landed alone. Her boots hit the scorched soil with a crack of force that split the stone beneath. She didn't speak.
She didn't need to.
The air around her shimmered—her aura leaking, flaring, burning in silent rage. Her eyes weren't just angry—they were filled with betrayal, grief, and something barely restrained. Something ancient. Her fingers curled into fists as she stared at the twins, and the ground cracked again beneath her feet.
"Where," she said, her voice barely a whisper, "is he?"
Luna lifted her head, her lip bloodied. "We tried. Gods, we tried—"
Eclipse choked out, "They came too fast… it wasn't just a cult—it was a legion."
Lyra took a step forward. The air distorted around her like heat waves, grass turning to ash in her wake.
"You were supposed to protect him!" she shouted. Her voice exploded like thunder. "You were his shield—his family!"
A boulder to her left cracked and split in two as her aura surged—white fire laced with gold, burning so hot it didn't make sound. The ground cratered beneath her, and even the wind seemed to falter. Birds in the distance took flight, startled.
Luna fell to her knees again. "We failed."
"He told us not to run," Eclipse whispered. "And he still protected us when we were the ones supposed to protect him…"
Lyra turned away, trembling. Her teeth clenched, her fists glowing with raw energy. She faced the direction Kael had been dragged toward—toward whatever abyss waited. The Eye had him now.
"I swear," she murmured, "I will bring him back. I don't care what it costs."
Behind her, Luna and Eclipse both lifted their heads slowly. The guilt in their hearts burned deeper than any wound.
"We will stand with you," Luna said quietly.
"No matter what happens next," Eclipse added, wiping blood from her cheek.
Lyra didn't respond. But her aura pulsed once—and the ashes on the field swirled like a storm at her feet.
Far away, beneath an ancient mountain carved with runes long lost to time, in the heart of a hidden temple soaked in shadow—
Kael hung from obsidian chains etched in red light.
His armor was torn, blood dripping from wounds old and new. His arms were stretched above him, bound by cruel restraints that pulsed with dark magic. One eye swollen shut. The other dim with fury and pain—but not defeat.
A figure stepped into view, draped in robes woven from stitched flesh and shadow. His face was partially hidden by a cracked porcelain mask.
"Well now," the man whispered with a crooked grin, voice like silk dragged across broken glass. "You've grown beautifully, my little investment."
Kael's head rose slightly, his breath ragged. "You…"
"Of course," the cult leader chuckled. "Who else but the mad sorcerer who bought you all those years ago?"
The shadows coiled tighter, and the Eye burned in the chamber ceiling.
And Kael, bleeding and bound, stared into the abyss.
Waiting.