Aarav stood motionless, his breath slow and heavy.
The flames around him had dimmed, but the heat still lingered in the air, thick and suffocating. The mark on the ground glowed with a dull, pulsing light, as if it were breathing.
And the warrior—he was gone.
No body. No ashes.
Just emptiness.
Aarav clenched his fists. His knuckles burned, his body ached, but inside him, something new had awakened.
The fire still whispered.
"Your fire is awake now, boy. But do you know what it means to wield it?"
That voice—where had it come from?
Aarav exhaled, forcing his thoughts into order.
No use standing here. He needed to move.
But as he turned, a sharp presence struck his senses.
He wasn't alone.
From the shadows, a figure emerged—a tall, robed man with silver tattoos spiraling down his arms. His eyes, cold and ancient, locked onto Aarav with unreadable intent.
"You survived the trial," the man said. His voice was deep, carrying an unnatural weight. "Impressive. Few do."
Aarav tensed, his flames flickering to life around his hands. "Who the hell are you?"
The man stepped closer, unaffected by the heat. "I am called many things. But for now, you may call me the Harbinger."
Aarav's gut twisted. That name… He had heard it before.
The Harbinger. A name whispered in underground fights. A legend spoken in half-truths.
A man who was said to be the gatekeeper of power.
Aarav narrowed his eyes. "What do you want?"
The Harbinger smirked. "Want? Oh, boy. It's not about what I want."
His gaze flicked to the still-glowing mark on the ground. "It's about what you've just inherited."
Aarav frowned, glancing at the mark.
Inherited?
He turned back to the Harbinger, but the man was already stepping forward. "Come."
Aarav didn't move. "Why should I trust you?"
The Harbinger tilted his head. "You don't have a choice."
Aarav's flames flared. "I always have a choice."
The Harbinger chuckled. "Do you?"
And then—**without warning—**he vanished.
Aarav barely had time to react before he felt something cold against his neck.
A dagger.
Pressed right against his throat.
The Harbinger's voice was calm. "You're powerful, boy. But you don't understand what you've stepped into."
Aarav's mind raced. How did he move so fast?
Who the hell was this guy?
The Harbinger leaned in, whispering. "Let me show you the path, before it consumes you whole."
Aarav gritted his teeth.
He hated this.
He hated being at someone else's mercy.
But deep inside, something told him—this man knew things.
Things Aarav needed to know.
After a long silence, he spoke.
"Fine."
The Harbinger smirked, lowering the dagger. "Good choice."
Then, he turned toward the burning mark. "Now, follow me."
And as Aarav stepped forward, he knew—
His journey was only just beginning.
Aarav followed the Harbinger toward the glowing mark, his steps slow, cautious.
His instincts screamed at him to stay alert. This man was dangerous. Too fast. Too precise. Too calm.
Yet, there was something else about him. Something ancient.
The mark on the ground pulsed with light, shifting like molten gold. Symbols etched into the earth twisted and reformed, like a living script that refused to be deciphered.
Aarav's pulse quickened. "What is this?"
The Harbinger glanced at him. "A door."
Aarav frowned. "A door to what?"
The Harbinger smirked. "Not to what. To whom."
Before Aarav could react, the Harbinger stepped onto the mark.
The air split open.
A blinding golden tear formed in the space before them, crackling with raw energy.
Aarav took an involuntary step back. The space itself was breaking.
Wind howled from within the rift, carrying the scent of burning metal and something else—something old, like forgotten temples and dust-covered ruins.
The Harbinger turned to him. "Step forward, boy."
Aarav hesitated.
He had faced death before. He had fought men who wanted to carve him open, to break his bones and leave him in the dirt.
But this?
This wasn't something he could punch. This wasn't something he could burn away.
This was… unknown.
The Harbinger's voice turned sharp. "You've already set foot on the path. There's no turning back."
Aarav exhaled sharply. No turning back.
Wasn't that always the case?
Clenching his fists, he took a step forward.
The moment his foot touched the mark—
The world shattered.
Aarav fell.
There was no ground beneath him. No air. No sound.
Just endless nothingness.
His stomach lurched as he tumbled through the void, his limbs flailing against a force he couldn't see. Flames flickered at his fingertips, but they didn't burn.
What the hell is this place?!
He turned his head—only to see something impossible.
A city suspended in the void.
It was massive, stretching endlessly into the darkness, its buildings shaped like towering spires of obsidian and gold. Rivers of light flowed between the streets, bending and twisting in unnatural ways. Above it all, a colossal tree loomed, its roots descending from the heavens like chains binding the city in place.
Aarav barely had time to process it before his body lurched downward.
The fall became violent—too fast, too sudden. The wind roared in his ears as the ground rushed toward him.
A single thought flashed through his mind.
I'm going to die.
Then—
Boom!
The impact sent a shockwave through the ground, splitting stone and shaking the streets.
Dust clouded his vision. His bones should have been shattered, his body broken.
But he was alive.
Lying in a crater of his own making.
What the hell…?
A voice echoed above him. "Well. That was dramatic."
Aarav groaned, pushing himself to his feet. He turned—
And froze.
The Harbinger stood at the edge of the crater, completely unharmed.
Aarav narrowed his eyes. "How the hell did you land so easily?"
The Harbinger smirked. "Because I belong here."
Aarav frowned. "And where exactly is here?"
The Harbinger extended his hand toward the towering city.
"Welcome to the Hollow Dominion—the city of the Marked."
Aarav's breath hitched. The Marked.
The ones who wielded powers beyond human understanding.
The ones who fought in the Tournament.
The ones who shaped the fate of the world.
His fists clenched. This was where his true battle began.
Aarav took a slow breath, his muscles still tense from the fall. The Hollow Dominion stretched before him—a city untouched by time, filled with power beyond comprehension.
The streets pulsed with a strange energy, flowing like veins beneath his feet. Shadows moved unnaturally, twisting toward him like they could sense something new within him.
He forced himself to stay calm. This place was alive.
The Harbinger turned to him. "Keep walking."
Aarav hesitated. "Where are we going?"
The Harbinger glanced at him, eyes glinting with something unreadable. "To meet the ones who will decide if you live or die."
Aarav's jaw tightened, but he followed.
As they walked through the winding streets, figures emerged from the shadows.
Men, women, and something else.
Some bore glowing marks on their skin, pulsating with raw power. Others had weapons infused with unnatural energy, their gazes sharp and predatory.
And then there were the ones who simply stood there—silent, watching, unreadable.
Aarav could feel it.
The weight of this place.
This wasn't just a city. It was a crucible.
A place where warriors either ascended or were erased.
The Harbinger stopped before a towering gate. Intricate carvings of gods and monsters were etched into the surface, their eyes seeming to follow Aarav's every move.
A guard stepped forward, clad in dark armor that shimmered like liquid metal.
"Another one?" The guard's voice was low, unimpressed.
The Harbinger smirked. "Not just another one."
The guard's gaze settled on Aarav, scrutinizing. "He's untested."
The Harbinger tilted his head. "Then test him."
Aarav's instincts flared. Something was wrong.
Before he could react—the guard moved.
Too fast.
A shadow streaked toward him, a blade aimed straight for his heart.
Aarav's body reacted before his mind did. Flames erupted around him.
Boom!
The explosion sent them both skidding back. The guard landed on his feet, eyes narrowing. "Hmph. Not bad."
Aarav's fists burned. His breath was steady.
But his mind raced.
They weren't welcoming him.
They were testing if he was worth keeping alive.
The guard smiled, sharp and dangerous. "Let's see how long you last, outsider."
Then—the real fight began.
---