The wind howled across the broken skyline as Kairo vaulted over a collapsed bridge and disappeared into the shadows of a forgotten undercity. The remnants of ancient infrastructure stretched before him—half-submerged train tunnels, collapsed freeways overgrown with ivy and rust. This was Sub-Layer Eleven, a hidden maze beneath the city once used to house civilians during the Age of Collapse.
Now it was the home of ghosts—both real and metaphorical.
Kairo moved swiftly, effortlessly, his breath calm despite the sprint. The mark on his arm still pulsed beneath his skin, burning not in pain, but in hunger—like it was waiting. He tugged the sleeve of his jacket down, hiding it from sight, though no one was watching. Not yet.
His body felt… different. The moment he punched the Herald, something inside him had shifted. Bones moved cleaner, nerves fired sharper, reflexes danced like lightning. He wasn't just stronger.
He was evolving.
The scent of rust and mold thickened as he reached the bottom of the stairwell leading into an old station. A faint light glowed ahead—an old oil lamp, flickering in a rhythm like a heartbeat.
Someone was waiting.
"I figured you'd come crawling back eventually," a voice drawled from the dark.
Kairo grinned before the speaker even stepped out.
A boy leaned against a support pillar, chewing a lollipop stick like he owned the place. He wore a red bomber jacket stitched with patches from a dozen different undercity gangs. His left eye glowed faintly red—an illegal implant used for tracking heat signatures.
Zeph. Underground tech-runner, info broker, and unlicensed brawler. Kairo's best friend since the age of ten. He was reckless, brilliant, and had once hacked into a divine archive just to prove a point.
"I wasn't crawling," Kairo said, walking past him and slumping onto an old bench. "I ran. Like a legend."
Zeph smirked, tossing him a metal canteen. "You look like crap."
"I always look like this."
"That's what I said."
They shared a tired laugh, one that cracked through the tension like lightning through fog.
But Zeph's smile faded quickly as he caught sight of Kairo's arm. "You awakened it, didn't you? The mark."
Kairo didn't answer at first. He opened the canteen, sipped, then nodded. "It lit up during the fight. I hit a Herald and it actually flew back. It was real. Not in my head."
Zeph's mouth tightened.
"Did it speak to you?" he asked softly.
Kairo met his gaze. "Not yet."
Zeph was quiet for a beat. Then he walked to a console built into the wall—an ancient system rigged together with modern scrap and divine tech fragments. The screen flickered to life, showing maps of the city, ley lines of divine energy, and something else: pulsing black zones.
"Look at this," Zeph said. "These regions are flaring. Since your little Herald-fisting moment, we've seen energy spikes across three districts. You didn't just wake up, K. You triggered something."
"Let me guess," Kairo muttered. "The gods are losing their minds?"
"No. Worse." Zeph tapped the darkest zone on the map. "The Order of the Haloed Veil is moving. They think you're a cosmic threat. A ticking time bomb."
Kairo tilted his head. "And they're the ones who kill ticking bombs, right?"
Zeph nodded. "They're sending a Scion. Someone divinely blessed—a direct bloodline."
Kairo smirked, leaning back against the wall. "Good. I need the exercise."
But deep down, he wasn't smiling. Because a Scion wasn't just another Herald. A Scion was born with a shard of divinity in their soul—a living extension of the gods themselves. If one of them was coming…
This wasn't just war. It was judgment.
Zeph studied him, then sat down. "You're not ready for this."
"Tell that to the Herald I sucker-punched."
"No. I mean you're not ready inside. You still laugh to hide it, but Kairo—this is real. You've been marked as the next Heavenbreaker. Do you even know what that means?"
Kairo's fist clenched around the canteen. "I don't care what it means. I never asked for any of this. I didn't choose it."
Zeph looked away. "Maybe not. But that mark chose you. And if you don't figure out what it wants… it'll consume you."
For a long time, there was silence between them. Only the faint buzz of old wires and the distant creak of metal beams reminded them they were still alive.
Then, slowly, Kairo stood.
"I need answers."
Zeph raised an eyebrow. "So… what, gonna walk into a temple and ask politely?"
"No." Kairo looked down at his glowing arm. "I'm going to break into the Divine Archives."
Zeph choked. "You mean THE archives? The ones under Orias Spire?! That's practically a divine fortress."
Kairo smirked. "Exactly. That's where they keep the files on past Heavenbreakers, right?"
Zeph stared at him. "You're insane."
Kairo turned away, his voice low but clear. "I laughed at the gods once. I'll do it again. But this time…"
He flexed his fingers, watching the faint energy dance over his skin like silver lightning.
"I want to know why."
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