Chapter 3: A Deal with the Dark

Aedric moved through the winding alleys of Rat's Nest, his mind racing. The damp air clung to his skin, but he barely noticed. The voice—this so-called forgotten god—had awakened something inside him. He could still feel it, thrumming in his chest like a heartbeat not entirely his own.

Was it power? Or was it a curse?

He stopped near an abandoned shack, little more than rotting wood and a slanted roof barely holding together. This had been his home—before his mother died, before the streets swallowed him whole. The memories of that life gnawed at him, but he pushed them aside. He had more pressing matters now.

"You have questions."

The voice slithered into his thoughts again, smooth and knowing.

Aedric sat against the wall, glancing at the bread in his hands. He wasn't even hungry anymore. "What are you?"

"I told you, I am a forgotten god. Once worshiped by kings, now reduced to whispers in the dark. You, however, can change that."

Aedric scoffed. "A god? Stuck inside my head? Doesn't sound very powerful to me."

A low chuckle echoed in his mind.

"You do not yet understand. Power is not about where you are—it is about what you control. And right now, you are standing at the edge of something far greater than you can imagine."

Aedric narrowed his eyes. "And what do you want from me?"

Silence.

Then, the voice whispered, "A pact."

Aedric tensed. He knew better than to accept blind deals. Slum life had taught him that much. "What kind of pact?"

"A simple one. I grant you power. You rise above this filth. You become more than a rat scurrying for scraps. And in return…"

The air around him seemed to thicken. Aedric's skin prickled as an unseen force pressed against him, like an invisible weight settling onto his shoulders.

"One day, when I call upon you, you will listen."

Aedric clenched his fists. That was it? No blood sacrifice, no immediate price? Just a promise?

It sounded too easy.

"You are suspicious. Good. But know this, Aedric—without me, you will remain nothing. Just another nameless corpse in Velmire's gutters. With me? You will take this city. And one day… the world."

Aedric's pulse quickened. He could still remember the guard's face—the raw terror in his eyes when Aedric had merely looked at him. He had never seen anyone look at a slum rat that way before. Not with pity, not with disgust. But with fear.

It was intoxicating.

He exhaled slowly. "Fine. I accept."

A ripple of energy coursed through him, like icy fire seeping into his bones. The weight on his shoulders grew heavier, then settled—like a second heartbeat, steady and unyielding.

"Then rise, Aedric. Your path begins now."

The voice faded, but the power remained.

Aedric lifted his gaze, the golden glow flickering once more in his eyes.

The slums would no longer hold him. This city would bow.

It was only a matter of time.