The air inside the Helios Manor thickened, the walls themselves groaning under the weight of something unseen. In the silence of the east wing's sealed chamber, a whisper echoed—a guttural voice, not spoken but heard directly in the marrow.
"The First Shard of Destruction requires sacrifice. Obtain it... and your rule shall prevail."
Rossain opened his eyes, the dim lamplight flickering against his irises. Something about him had shifted, sharpened. The grin that pulled at his lips was not joy, but something far more dangerous—certainty.
"Let's begin."
Around him, the men exchanged glances. Silent, brief nods passed between them. This was not a question. It was a rite.
In the depths of the dungeon, the silence was almost reverent.
Ricardo and Lira sat pressed against the cold stone wall, shoulder to shoulder, hands still faintly clasped in defiance of the chains that bound them. No words passed between them. There was no point. What needed to be said had already been spoken.
The torchlight flickered, and their faces turned toward the sound of footsteps approaching. A melancholy passed through their expressions—not fear, but a solemn acceptance.
Rossain stepped into view, his silhouette haloed by the torch behind him. He said nothing. He didn't need to.
The guards moved forward.
The cold bite of iron unsheathed.
And then, the silence broke.
Not with screams. But with something far worse.
The night outside the Helios estate was suffocating. Even the stars had receded from the sky, the moon nowhere in sight. The forest surrounding the path to Hevar stood still, branches unmoving, the wind holding its breath.
Marvin clutched his small satchel, his eyes hollow from a lack of sleep. He didn't cry. Not anymore.
"How… how much longer?"
Raizen didn't answer immediately. His gaze flicked ahead, past the tree line and toward the faint outline of rooftops in the distance.
"We're nearing the town."
His voice was calm. Strained, but calm. Behind him, Garen slowed his horse, hooves sinking slightly into the softened dirt. Raizen reached into the folds of his cloak and pulled out the folded parchment.
Townhouse Lane. Fifth Building.
Garen leaned closer, eyes narrowing at the address. "Should be around here."
They came to a stop before a small two-story house. It was modest, worn by the seasons but clean. Pale light flickered from inside.
Raizen dismounted, boots crunching on the gravel path. He took one slow breath and lifted his hand to knock—but a smaller hand caught his wrist.
Marvin.
The boy stepped forward and knocked for him.
Moments later, the door opened. A woman stood framed in the doorway, the resemblance striking. The same gentle eyes, the same silver-threaded hair.
Rinia's expression crumpled as she took in the boy before her. Her eyes darted to Raizen, questions already forming, but her voice broke before any of them could be asked.
"My sister's being falsely executed… for a crime they committed out of their own greed!"
Raizen's head lowered. Guilt flooded his chest like molten lead.
"I'm sorry," he said, voice barely audible. "Can you take care of Marvin? It… it was her last wish."
Rinia stepped out into the cold, wrapping her arms around Marvin tightly. "He's my only family besides Lira. Of course I'll take care of him."
Tears rolled freely down her cheeks, unashamed.
"I'm sorry I couldn't help them," Raizen said.
"Don't," Rinia whispered. "Don't be. It's not something you could've changed. You're also a child."
That made Raizen pause. Her tone, the warmth in her words—it was Lira's voice, just a shade softer. A distant echo of the woman who had once shielded him from the harshest corners of the world.
"We'll get going," he murmured.
"Can't you also stay with us?" Marvin asked, stepping away from Rinia. "Please…?"
Raizen knelt, brushing the boy's hair back gently. "I have to save your parents."
A broken smile flickered at his lips. "If I don't even try… I'd rather die."
Marvin didn't respond. He just turned away, shoulders hunched.
Raizen and Garen climbed back onto their horses. The road ahead stretched into the woods again, but now the horizon was bleeding orange. Dawn loomed. The forest, however, didn't stir with birdsong. It remained deathly quiet.
A chill ran through Raizen's spine. It wasn't from the cold.
Something had changed.
Something terrible.
Raizen's grip on the reins loosened as the world around him tilted. His breath hitched. Then, without warning, he collapsed sideways from the saddle.
He struck the ground hard, but didn't cry out. His hands dug into the dirt, and something beneath it pulsed in rhythm with his chest. Like the heartbeat of the land itself had skipped.
Kezess hovered at the edge of his thoughts, emotionless.
"Something has happened."
Far from the forest, the Helios dungeon reeked of iron and something darker. The walls were drenched in blood and a thick black fluid that moved too slowly to be called liquid. Ricardo's severed hand lay sprawled beside the altar, Lira's form utterly unrecognizable beside it.
The shard now hovered mid-air, thrumming with power. No longer dormant.
Rossain stood before it, his face splattered with blood, his eyes wide with hunger.
"Finally," he breathed. "This power… it's mine!"
The very manor trembled, the vibrations rising from the lowest stone to the tallest spire. Books fell from shelves. Walls cracked. The earth rejected the presence within.
Teriel staggered out of her chamber, hand against the wall.
"What… what is happening?"
Ryan was already running through the halls. He felt the tremors underfoot. Heard the rumble of something ancient rising.
He turned the corner just as a large slab of ceiling gave way above Teriel.
She looked up.
His eyes widened.
"Mother!!"
The dust clouded everything.
When it cleared, she lay trapped beneath the rubble, blood staining her robes. Ryan rushed to her side, grabbing desperately at the debris.
"It's no use," she whispered, voice wet with blood. "Get Sylvia… the building's going to collapse."
"You've never cared about anyone but yourself!" Ryan shouted, tears spilling freely. "And now you're trying to be kind?!"
"I… don't have anything to say."
The ground quaked again. The roof groaned above them.
Teriel looked at him. Not as a noble. Not as a mother.
Just a woman who was tired.
She smiled at her son.
Ryan bit his lip, hard. Then turned away, sprinting down the corridor toward Sylvia's room without looking back.
Dust rained from above.
The manor, once proud, was beginning to die.
And far away, in a clearing touched by no wind, Raizen stirred.
His hair had gone stark white, strands whipping around a face void of emotion. His eyes, once vivid, now burned with ashen clarity. There was no anger. No sorrow.
Only silence.
The earth beneath him cracked. Dust began to rise, unnaturally, as if pulled from gravity's grip.
And then, like a falling star, Raizen launched into the air, carving through the forest's canopy with the force of a thunderclap. Trees bent. Animals scattered.
His thoughts were fragmented—flashes of blood, Lira's hand on his cheek, Marvin's trembling voice, Ricardo's proud stance.
But grief ruled them all.
Kezess watched from the depths of Raizen's mind. Silent. Waiting.
Above the broken horizon, the Helios estate loomed, shaking, its windows shattered and its foundation buckling.
And Raizen was coming for it.
Not as a boy.
But as a storm.