Chapter 27 – The Mark of the Forsaken

Cain's breath came in sharp gasps as he tore through the endless abyss, the whispers of the Forsaken clawing at his mind. The darkness around him twisted, shifting unnaturally, as if reality itself was bending to trap him.

He had no idea where he was running.

But he knew one thing—he couldn't stop.

The Titan Core inside him burned hotter than ever, not from exhaustion, but from something else. It was fighting against something unseen, something deep within the abyss.

Something inside him.

The Forsaken's words echoed in his mind.

"You cannot win as you are."

Cain clenched his teeth, pushing forward. He had spent his entire life proving people wrong. He had survived the Forsaken Trials, fought monsters in the depths, escaped the Warbringers.

He would survive this too.

But the abyss didn't let him go so easily.

The shadows around him thickened, the air becoming heavy. His footsteps faltered as the ground beneath him warped, like it was pulling him down.

Cain gritted his teeth.

No.

He forced his Titan Core to flare, golden flames bursting from his form in an attempt to push back against the abyss.

For a brief moment, it worked.

The shadows recoiled, the weight on his body easing just enough for him to move again. He surged forward, sprinting toward the faintest hint of light in the distance. It was small—barely visible—but it was there.

A way out.

The Forsaken were behind him, but they weren't chasing.

They didn't need to.

Because something was waiting ahead.

Cain felt it before he saw it.

A force—massive, ancient, patient.

He skidded to a stop just as the shadows split apart.

And then, it stepped forward.

Not a Forsaken.

Not a Warbringer.

Something worse.

Cain's chest tightened as he stared up at the figure looming before him.

It wasn't tall like the Warbringers. It wasn't shifting and formless like the Forsaken.

It was human.

Almost.

A man stood in the darkness, clad in deep, abyssal armor, the plates woven with shifting tendrils of shadow that pulsed like they were alive. His face was obscured, a hood covering his features, but Cain could see the faintest glimmer of golden eyes beneath the fabric.

Not just golden.

Titan gold.

Cain's breath caught.

The man lifted his head.

"So this is what remains."

His voice was deep, layered, resonating with something too vast to be human.

Cain's entire body locked up.

Not because of fear.

Because his Titan Core responded.

The moment the man spoke, Cain's own energy shifted, pulsing in sync with something deep inside the abyss.

He wasn't just some wandering entity.

He was tied to Cain.

"Who—" Cain's voice faltered. "Who the hell are you?"

The man took a step forward. The ground didn't shake. The abyss itself moved with him.

"You do not recognize what stands before you?" The man exhaled slowly, as if disappointed. "Perhaps the purge was more effective than I expected."

Cain forced himself to remain steady, even as every instinct screamed that he wasn't ready for this fight.

"You were waiting for me," Cain said.

The man's lips curled slightly beneath the hood. "Not you."

The shadows twisted violently, swirling around the two of them like a storm held back by will alone.

"I was waiting for what you will become."

Cain tensed.

"And I am here to see if you are worthy of it."

The Titan Core inside Cain surged—violently, as if trying to tear free from his body. His breath hitched, his muscles locking as pain erupted through his chest.

It was reacting to the man.

Or rather—to something inside him.

Cain's mind raced. Who was this? What was this?

His Titan Core had responded to the Forsaken. It had recognized them.

But this?

This was something far more dangerous.

"You are broken," the man murmured, tilting his head slightly. "But you do not need to be."

Cain tried to move—tried to step back—but his body refused.

He was locked in place.

"Your ancestors were stronger than you," the man said, his voice almost disappointed. "They understood what we were meant to be."

Cain clenched his jaw. "I don't care about the past."

"No," the man mused. "You care only about survival."

The shadows pulsed violently.

"Then let us see if you can."

Cain barely had a second to react before the man attacked.

It wasn't a movement.

It was an absence of movement.

One moment, the man was standing still. The next—Cain's vision blurred as something slammed into his chest, sending him hurtling backward.

He crashed through the abyss, shadows tearing at his form as he struggled to stabilize himself. His Titan Core reacted instinctively, golden flames bursting outward.

But the man was already there.

Cain barely dodged as a blackened blade slashed toward his neck. He twisted midair, countering with a burst of Titan energy, but his attack never landed.

The man phased through it.

Not dodging. Not blocking.

Just ceasing to exist for a fraction of a second.

Cain's stomach dropped.

He's not real.

The realization came too late.

The man's fist slammed into Cain's side, sending a pulse of pure abyssal force through his ribs. The impact sent Cain skidding across the ground, blood spraying from his lips.

He coughed, staggering to his feet. His Titan Core was burning too fast.

He was losing.

The man watched him. Not attacking. Not rushing.

Waiting.

"You do not know how to use it."

Cain wiped the blood from his mouth, breathing heavily. "And you do?"

The man's golden eyes burned.

"I was the first."

Cain's breath stalled.

"The first Forsaken."

Cain's pulse roared in his ears.

No.

No, that wasn't possible.

The Forsaken were remnants, corrupted pieces of Titans that had failed to die in the purge. They weren't whole. They weren't real.

But this man was.

He wasn't a remnant.

He was complete.

"And now, lost one," the First Forsaken murmured, raising his abyssal blade, "I will see if you are worthy to stand among us."

The abyss collapsed inward.

Cain had no choice.

He fought.