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Betrayed. Forgotten. Forsaken.

When Kael Ardyn, heir to the noble house of Ardyn, is framed for a crime he didn’t commit, his world crumbles in an instant. Branded a traitor, hunted like an animal, and cast into the dreaded Abyss, he is left to die in the depths where no mortal survives.

But Kael is no ordinary man. In the darkness of the Abyss, he awakens something ancient—something that should have never been disturbed. The Primordial Abyss speaks to him, offering knowledge, power, and vengeance beyond mortal comprehension.

Now reborn as the Abyssborn, Kael is no longer a forsaken noble. He is a harbinger of ruin, an entity that should not exist in the mortal realm. Armed with abyssal power and a thirst for retribution, he will ascend from the darkness and carve his legend into the world.

They thought they had buried him.
They thought they had won.
But from the shadows, the Forsaken King shall rise.

Abyssborn: The Forsaken King

The guardian knelt before Kael, its massive form trembling under the weight of unseen chains. The once-raging violet flames in its hollow eyes had dimmed, flickering like dying embers.

Kael stepped forward, his boots echoing against the obsidian floor. His entire body ached from the battle, but he forced himself to move. His breathing was ragged, but his focus was sharper than ever.

Yet, a lingering unease settled in his chest. This victory… felt incomplete.

"You are beginning to understand," the shadowed figure mused.

Kael turned to face them, his expression hard. "Then explain it to me."

The figure chuckled softly. "If only it were that simple. Knowledge is not given, Kael. It is reclaimed."

Kael narrowed his eyes. "Enough riddles. What is this place? Why do I feel like I've been here before?"

The figure slowly raised a hand, gesturing toward the throne.

"This," they said, "is what remains of the Forsaken Throne. Once a seat of unimaginable power… now an echo of what it once was. Sealed away, waiting for its true master to return."

Kael felt his heart pound. His true master?

The figure's hooded face tilted slightly. "That depends. Are you ready to accept what that means?"

The obsidian seat pulsed with an eerie, almost familiar energy. The same abyssal force that had answered his call in battle now resonated with the very stone itself, as if it recognized him. As if it knew him.

It was a claim. A right. A destiny he hadn't even known existed.

Something inside him stirred—a whisper of forgotten knowledge.

A sudden, crushing force seized his mind, sending him staggering to his knees. His vision blurred. His skull felt like it was being torn open.

Memories that weren't his—yet were—flooded in.

A figure standing atop a mountain of corpses, a crown of shadows upon his head.

A kingdom of darkness, built upon blood and conquest.

A seal. A forgotten name. A forsaken throne.

Kael gasped, gripping his head as the visions tore through his consciousness. The weight of it all was too much. He felt like he was being split apart.

Through the haze of pain, the figure's voice reached him.

"This is the price of awakening," they murmured. "Memories long sealed cannot be reclaimed without cost."

With sheer force of will, he forced himself upright.

His breath was heavy, his body shaking—but he stood.

His fingers brushed against the stone—

The world around him collapsed into darkness.

Chapter 8: Claiming the Throne