Chapter 14: The Awakening

Kael sat upon the Forsaken Throne, his fingers tightening around the armrests as power surged through his veins.

It wasn't just strength.

It was knowledge.

The moment he had claimed the throne, his mind had been flooded with memories—not just his own, but those of the kings who had ruled before him. Centuries of battles, betrayals, victories, and losses.

He saw empires rise and fall. He felt the echoes of wars fought in the name of power. He remembered things he had never lived through.

And then, deep within the abyss of his mind—

A voice.

"You are the last."

It wasn't the chorus of kings from before. This voice was different—singular.

Older.

It was the throne itself.

Kael exhaled, his hands trembling as the throne's power continued to shape him. The longer he sat here, the more he could feel it changing him.

His body felt lighter, yet stronger than before. The wounds from his battles were gone, his skin humming with an unnatural vitality.

But the most noticeable change—

His eyes.

As he gazed into the abyss around him, he caught his reflection in the swirling black flames.

Gone was the dull gray of his irises.

Now, his eyes burned with an ethereal glow, dark silver with streaks of abyssal blue, like twin stars buried in the void.

This power had chosen him.

And he had accepted it.

But he knew—it wasn't free.

Power always came with a price.

Kael clenched his fists, pushing aside the lingering voices in his mind. He couldn't afford to drown in the weight of the past.

There was something else—something the throne was trying to tell him.

Something urgent.

And then—he felt it.

A presence.

No—several.

Coming fast.

His head snapped up just as the darkness around him began to shift.

The air grew cold.

He wasn't alone anymore.

"He's still inside."

The whisper was barely audible, carried through the cold air by unseen voices.

From the shadows beyond the throne, figures emerged.

They moved like wraiths, their footsteps silent even against the shattered stone of the abyss. Clad in pitch-black armor, their faces were obscured by smooth, featureless masks.

Their presence was unnatural.

Assassins—trained to eliminate those who wielded forbidden power.

And Kael?

He was now their target.

"Engage."

The moment the word was spoken, they struck.

Too fast.

Kael barely had time to react before the first blade was already slicing toward his throat.

He twisted—but his body moved differently.

Faster.

Stronger.

His instincts had sharpened, his reflexes enhanced beyond what he thought possible.

The assassin's dagger missed by a hair's breadth.

Kael countered without thinking.

A flick of his wrist—and the abyss responded.

A shadow erupted from his fingertips, coiling around the attacker like a living serpent. Before the assassin could escape, the darkness crushed him, his body vanishing into a black mist.

Kael froze, staring at his own hands.

What… was that?

But there was no time to process it.

Three more assassins closed in.

And this time—they weren't holding back.

Blades sang through the air, each strike precise and lethal. But Kael wasn't the same man he had been before.

He moved instinctively, dodging, weaving—countering.

Another wave of abyssal energy surged from him, lashing out like whips of liquid shadow. The second assassin was sent flying, crashing against the throne with a sickening crack.

The third hesitated.

Kael's glowing eyes locked onto them.

And for the first time—

They felt fear.

"You don't belong here," Kael said coldly.

The assassin took a step back.

Then another.

But before they could retreat into the shadows—

Kael appeared behind them.

Faster than they could process.

He didn't even think about moving. His body simply reacted, as if the abyss itself had guided his motion.

A whisper of power.

A flick of his wrist.

The assassin's body disintegrated.

Kael exhaled, watching as the last remnants of their form faded into nothingness.

Then, silence.

He turned, facing the throne once more.

This wasn't just power.

It was something more.

He could feel it now—a connection to something vast, something boundless.

And deep within that abyss—

A name surfaced.

One that should not exist.

One that had been erased from history.

And yet—it was calling to him.

Kael's eyes narrowed.

"What the hell am I?"

Far beyond the abyss, under the blood-red moon of the ruined empire, a golden-eyed man stood at the top of a crumbling tower, gazing into the distance. Below him, his subordinates kneeled, awaiting his command.

"He survived."

The words were laced with intrigue rather than disappointment. The man's lips curled into a smirk.

"You all saw it. He destroyed them without even understanding his own power."

A cloaked figure shifted. "Shall we send the next unit?"

The man's eyes gleamed.

"No."

"We need to test him first."

He turned, his cloak billowing in the night wind.

"Send the wraith."

"Let's see how far he's really fallen."