The air crackled with an unfamiliar energy, a heat unlike the Abyss's cold, suffocating darkness. Kael's fingers twitched, instinctively curling into fists as he stared at the armored figures emerging from the crimson rift.
They were nothing like the entities he had faced before.
Their armor gleamed under the flickering light—crafted from some kind of celestial metal, inscribed with runes that pulsed like living fire. Their eyes, hidden beneath their ornate helmets, burned with purpose. And their weapons… Kael felt their power before he even saw them properly.
Each blade, each spear, was forged to destroy beings like him.
Lyra inhaled sharply beside him. "Kael… do you know who they are?"
He didn't. But he understood.
They weren't demons. They weren't mindless forces of destruction.
They were hunters.
And they had come for him.
The leading warrior stepped forward. He was taller than the rest, his armor lined with golden filigree, a two-handed greatsword resting on his back. The energy radiating from him felt different—calm, calculated, ancient.
Kael met his gaze, unflinching. "Who are you?"
The warrior studied him for a moment before answering. His voice was like steel over fire.
"You have gone too far, Abyssborn."
The title sent a chill through Kael's veins. His grip tightened. "Abyssborn?"
"You touched what should never be wielded," the warrior continued, stepping forward with deliberate precision. "And now, the balance must be restored."
Lyra raised her blade, moving slightly in front of Kael. "Balance? Is that what you call this?" she snapped. "He didn't unleash the Abyss—he contained it. He stopped it from consuming everything."
The warrior's gaze didn't even flicker toward her. "And yet, he now carries its power. No mortal is meant to hold dominion over such forces."
Kael felt it then—the way they looked at him, not as a person, but as a threat.
He had seen that look before. In the eyes of people who feared what they didn't understand.
"You think I'm a danger," Kael said, voice steady. "Because I survived."
"No," the warrior replied, drawing his sword with a whisper of metal against metal.
"Because you changed."
Then, without another word—
He attacked.
A blazing arc of energy tore through the battlefield, the force so immense that the ground split apart beneath them. Kael barely had time to react before Lyra grabbed his arm, yanking him out of the way. The attack exploded where they had stood a second before, sending a shockwave that could have torn through mountains.
Kael rolled, landing in a crouch, his eyes burning with abyssal power. They weren't here to talk.
They were here to eliminate him.
And as the rest of the armored warriors surged forward, weapons igniting with celestial fire—Kael realized something.
This battle?
It wasn't about survival anymore.
It was about who he would become next.