Heavenbreaker
Interlude – The Chain That Bleeds
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Kaien woke to the sound of a heartbeat.
It wasn't his own.
His head swam. His limbs ached as if his very soul had been twisted and torn apart, only to be stitched back together with invisible threads. The air was thick, heavy, and he couldn't tell if he was still alive or if he had drifted into the afterlife.
Then, there was the pull.
A tug at the core of his chest, like something—or someone—was calling him. His fingers curled involuntarily, the familiar cold weight of Fellchain resting against his palm, the cursed blade vibrating with a dark, pulsating energy.
> You are not whole.
The voice slithered through his thoughts, not as words but as raw sensation—cold, ancient, and venomous.
His breath hitched. He was lying in the remnants of the battlefield—the shattered ruins of the divine checkpoint. The air around him was thick with the acrid scent of burnt ozone, scorched flesh, and the faint echo of distant cries. His heart hammered in his chest, a steady rhythm of death and rebirth.
He sat up, struggling against the weight of his own body. A lingering dizziness clawed at the edges of his senses. Yet something held him down, anchored him in place. He touched his chest instinctively.
The brand was still there. The abyssal symbol, a scar that had appeared with his death, glowed faintly beneath his skin.
Kaien's eyes narrowed.
No more games.
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The Vision
The world fractured.
Kaien felt his body being torn from this plane, pulled through cold shadows. The earth beneath him dissolved into mist, replaced by a vast void of darkness. But in the center of it, there was light—distant, faint, like the star at the end of a dying world.
A voice, ancient and low, hummed from the light.
> You were forged in pain.
The light flickered, revealing a figure—a man—crouched, shackled by chains made of silver and iron. His skin was dark, marked with the scars of battles long lost, his body twisted and bent under the weight of a thousand years.
The man's eyes burned with an eternal flame—unbroken, untamed.
He looked at Kaien, his gaze piercing through the fabric of reality itself.
> You are mine. And I am yours.
Kaien staggered, disoriented. His fingers tightened around the hilt of Fellchain.
> This chain, this curse—it will never leave you. It will bleed with you, through you, until the end of time.
The chains that bound the man rattled, and the sound was like the scream of the universe itself—writhing, agonizing. The man reached out, his broken hand stretching toward Kaien.
> This is your destiny. To break them all. And in the end... you will break yourself.
The vision warped again, and Kaien's pulse quickened. His mind screamed for clarity, but the image of the chained figure burned deeper into his soul.
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Kaien's eyes snapped open.
He was back in the real world. The weight of the vision still clung to him like a shadow, dragging at his spirit. Sweat dripped from his brow. His breath was shallow, ragged.
"...What the hell was that?" Kaien whispered.
The chains on the man. The curse. The endless bleed.
His fingers tightened around the hilt of Fellchain, but for the first time, he felt a flicker of doubt. Who had that man been? And why had he called Kaien his own?
Before Kaien could process further, Riven's voice cut through the silence, sharp and commanding.
"You still alive?"
Kaien turned to see her standing at the edge of the wreckage, her silhouette bathed in the soft glow of the dying embers. Her eyes were narrow, watching him with suspicion—and something more, something faintly like concern.
"I'm not sure," Kaien muttered, rubbing his temples. "But I think I've seen hell now."
Riven raised an eyebrow. "You've only seen the beginning."
Kaien stood, his legs shaky beneath him. "Hell sounds like a vacation compared to what I just felt."
He moved toward her, his steps heavy. The weight of the vision still pressed down on him, but there was something else now—a quiet, burning need to understand. To fight. To survive.
And most of all—to kill.
"I don't trust this, Riven," Kaien said, his voice low. "There's something inside me—something tied to the gods."
"Isn't there always?" she replied dryly. "But you're not in this for answers. Not anymore. You're in this for revenge."
Kaien didn't respond. He couldn't. Not with the weight of the vision still clawing at his mind.
And then, out of the corner of his eye, something shimmered.
A figure stood in the distance—distant, indistinct, but unmistakable.
A man.
Kaien's breath caught in his throat.
The man from his vision.
But he wasn't a dream.
He was real.
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