Chapter 3: Whispers of the Forsaken

Orion's body still ached, the burn of the mark on his arm pulsing with every heartbeat. The woman's golden eyes hadn't left him, watching—judging.

His breath was still uneven. His mind raced.

The Veil had chosen him.

And now… he wasn't sure if he'd survived or if he was simply trapped somewhere worse.

Orion pushed himself up, taking in the dimly lit chamber around him. The walls were carved with symbols that seemed to shift when he wasn't looking directly at them. Shadows flickered along the stone, stretching unnaturally.

He wasn't alone.

Apart from the woman, three others stood at a distance. They were watching him, expressions unreadable.

Orion swallowed. His voice was hoarse when he finally spoke.

"Alright… someone tell me what the hell is going on."

The woman didn't answer immediately. Instead, one of the figures stepped forward—a man, tall and broad-shouldered, with short, dark hair streaked with silver. His presence carried authority, the kind that made people listen before they even knew why.

His eyes were cold. Calculating.

"You lived." His voice was deep, steady. "That's unexpected."

Orion clenched his jaw. "Glad I could surprise you."

The man didn't react. "Do you know what you are now?"

Orion's fingers twitched. "I was hoping someone here would explain that."

The man exhaled slowly, then turned to the woman. "You brought him here. You tell him."

She nodded once, then met Orion's gaze.

"You are Forsaken now."

The words landed like a weight in Orion's chest.

Forsaken.

He didn't like the sound of that.

"What does that mean?"

The woman stepped closer, her presence strangely… calming despite the weight of her words.

"It means the Veil has marked you as its own." She gestured to his arm. "That mark binds you to it. The world you knew before? You don't belong there anymore."

Orion's stomach twisted.

"That's bullshit."

A low chuckle came from the corner of the room. Orion turned sharply to see another figure, leaning casually against the wall. A younger man, maybe in his early twenties, with messy auburn hair and sharp, mischief-filled eyes. He looked amused by the whole situation.

"They all say that at first," the newcomer said with a smirk. "Then they realize there's no going back."

Orion gritted his teeth. His pulse pounded in his ears. No going back.

No. That wasn't possible.

"There has to be a way," he said, voice tight.

The first man—the one with authority in his posture—finally sighed.

"There isn't."

Silence stretched between them.

The weight of it settled into Orion's bones, and for the first time, he felt the truth of their words.

Something inside him had changed.

Something that couldn't be undone.

---

The Ones Who Survive

The air in the chamber felt colder now. He wasn't sure if it was the room itself or just the realization settling into his mind.

The woman—who still hadn't given her name—spoke again.

"There are others like you. Those who have been marked."**"Some of us survived. Others…" She let the words hang in the air.

Orion's jaw clenched. "And what exactly do we 'survivors' do?"

The auburn-haired man pushed off the wall, stretching lazily.

"We stay alive. And we hunt."

Orion narrowed his eyes. "Hunt what?"

The woman's expression darkened.

"The Forsaken who lost themselves."

Something about the way she said it sent a chill through him.

Orion thought back to the thing that had chased them through the Veil. The whispers. The empty, devouring hunger.

"You mean the creatures."

The older man with silver-streaked hair spoke now.

"They were like you once."

Orion's breath hitched.

They were like me.

He felt his heartbeat thundering in his ears.

Is that what happens if I lose? If I don't fight back?

The woman must have seen the shift in his expression because she nodded slightly.

"Yes. The Veil does not let go. It only takes."

Orion's fists clenched.

"Then I guess I'll have to fight, won't I?"

A slow smirk tugged at the auburn-haired man's lips. "Good. I was hoping you'd say that."

---

New Names, New Shadows

Orion exhaled, pushing down the whirlwind of emotions raging inside him. Focus. Process later.

He turned to the woman. "You brought me here, but you never told me your name."

She paused, then inclined her head slightly. "Selene."

He nodded, then glanced at the silver-streaked man. "And you?"

The man crossed his arms. "Kastiel."

Then, the auburn-haired one, who was still watching him with that amused glint.

"And you're…?" Orion prompted.

The man grinned. "Call me Ash."

Selene spoke again, her tone shifting back to business. "There's one more you need to meet."

Orion raised an eyebrow.

Ash chuckled. "Oh, you'll love this one."

A new set of footsteps echoed from the darkened archway at the back of the chamber.

A figure stepped forward, cloaked in black armor, moving with the silent, lethal grace of a predator. Their face was obscured by a mask—smooth and featureless except for two glowing violet eyes.

Orion felt his pulse stutter.

Something about this person felt… different. Dangerous.

Selene's voice was calm but firm. "This is Veylan. He leads the Forsaken hunters."

Veylan stopped a few feet away, staring at Orion. The air felt heavier in his presence.

Then, in a voice smooth as steel, he spoke.

"I don't care where you came from, Orion Vale."**"You either learn fast, or you die faster."

Orion exhaled slowly, staring right back at him.

"Guess I'd better start learning, then."

For a moment, there was silence. Then—Veylan nodded.

"Good answer."

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