Chapter 22: The Hunt Begins

The fire-scorched streets of Evernight twisted in the shadows of war.

Caius ran, lungs burning, boots slamming against the cracked stone as the city crumbled around him. The Black Flame Knight was hunting them.

Each step sent a pulse of molten heat through the air. Behind them, Calrix, the Hollow King's Executioner, pursued without haste—but without mercy. His presence was like the weight of an oncoming storm, slow, inevitable, and inescapable.

The second gate was ahead—a towering fortress wall, once meant to protect Evernight's inner city. Now, it was the rebels' last line of defense.

But as they neared it, Caius saw how desperate the battle had become.

Bodies littered the streets—both rebel and Hollow Legion alike. The barricades were barely holding, flames licking at the wooden reinforcements. Soldiers screamed, clashing in the mud and blood, arrows cutting through the air.

And yet, even in the chaos, all Caius could feel was the Watcher's presence pressing against his mind.

It was watching him.

It had seen his failure.

Caius's magic pulsed in his veins, flickering with instability.

Ever since he'd stepped into the Veil, something had changed—his control was slipping. Normally, time obeyed him, bent at his command. But now?

Now it fought against him.

His thoughts felt split, like he was existing in two places at once. One moment, he was running beside Selene and Elias, the world blurred with speed. The next, he was somewhere else, watching the battle from above—no, not above, outside of time entirely.

He saw the rebels dying before it happened.

Saw Selene's dagger break a moment before she threw it.

Saw himself fail before he had even made his next move.

The realization slammed into him like a blade to the gut.

The Watcher wasn't just observing.

It was interfering.

Selene shoved Caius forward, snapping him out of the vision.

"Caius, snap out of it!" she barked. "We have to move!"

He forced himself back into the present. They had seconds before Calrix reached them.

Elias was already shouting orders, rallying the remaining rebels. "Hold the second gate! Archers, fire on my command!"

The rebel forces scrambled into position, pulling back behind the remaining fortifications. But Caius knew it wasn't enough.

The Hollow Legion was still advancing. The city was burning.

And Calrix was nearly upon them.

The Executioner moved like a shadow of death, his obsidian armor untouched by the flames. He did not run—he did not need to. Every step he took, the battlefield bent to his presence. The Hollow Legion fought harder, the shadows grew darker, and Caius felt time itself slipping from his grasp.

Selene gritted her teeth, pulling free another dagger. "We need a plan."

Elias glanced at Caius. "You're the Timeborn. You tell us."

Caius clenched his fists. He wanted to tell them he had a strategy—that his power could turn the tide.

But the truth burned in his throat.

His power wasn't working properly.

And if he didn't figure out why, they were all dead.

The air trembled with the force of the next onslaught.

The Hollow Legion rushed forward, their armored boots striking the ground in perfect unison, their weapons gleaming in the firelight.

Elias raised his sword. "Archers, loose!"

A hail of arrows rained down from the rooftops. Dozens of Hollow soldiers fell, pierced through their armor. But more came. Always more.

Selene leapt into the fray, her daggers flashing as she cut down an advancing soldier. Caius drew his blade, forcing himself into battle—no time to think.

He ducked under a spear, twisted, drove his sword through an enemy's ribs. Faster. Move faster.

But Calrix was here.

The Executioner stepped forward, his molten greatsword dragging against the stone, carving a burning scar through the battlefield. The ground cracked beneath him, embers swirling around his massive frame.

Then—

He swung.

A single, effortless arc of his blade—and the second gate shattered.

The explosion threw Caius backward, his ears ringing, his body slamming into the ruins of a stone wall. Smoke and debris filled the air.

And through the chaos, Calrix advanced.

Caius struggled to stand, pain shooting through his ribs. The rebels were scattering. The second gate had fallen.

And then—

A presence loomed over him.

Caius looked up.

Calrix stood above him.

The Executioner's mask gleamed in the firelight, an unreadable, monstrous visage. His greatsword dripped with molten steel, heat distorting the air around it.

"You are already dead," the knight murmured. His voice was not human—deep, hollow, ancient.

Caius's breath caught.

Then Calrix swung his blade down.

Time stopped.

For a moment, everything froze.

The fire. The battle. The screams.

Caius existed in the stillness.

But something was wrong.

Time hadn't stopped because of him.

It had stopped because something else had interfered.

The world fractured.

The battlefield shattered like broken glass, the fragments of reality twisting in the air. Shadows stretched unnaturally, forming impossible shapes, spiraling outward into the abyss.

And from within that abyss, something looked back at him.

The Watcher.

Its presence was suffocating. Its gaze pierced through time itself, peeling back the layers of reality like parchment.

Caius could feel it inside his head.

And then—

He saw.

Not just the present.

Not just the past.

All of it.

The Hollow King kneeling before a throne that should not exist.

The Black Flame Knights bound to an ancient pact, their souls consumed by something far older than the kingdom itself.

Evernight's future—drowned in fire, swallowed by the Watcher's will.

And then, the most horrifying vision of all:

Himself.

Standing in the throne room. Not as a rebel. Not as a savior.

But as the Hollow King.

The Return to Time

The vision broke.

Time slammed back into place.

Caius barely had a second to react—Calrix's blade was still falling.

Instinct took over.

He rolled, the greatsword cleaving into the stone where he had just been. The heat of it singed his skin.

Selene's voice rang out. "Caius! Move!"

He scrambled to his feet, his pulse a drumbeat in his skull.

Calrix did not turn immediately. He stood over the ruined ground, as if sensing something. His helmet tilted ever so slightly.

And then he spoke, his voice quieter this time.

"The Watcher has marked you."

Caius's heart pounded.

Calrix knew.

The Executioner took a step back, his grip tightening on his greatsword. And then—without another word, he turned.

He walked away.

Caius stood there, shaken to his core.

Selene grabbed his arm. "Caius, what just happened?"

He didn't answer.

Because he didn't know.

But one thing was certain.

The Watcher wasn't just interfering anymore.

It had chosen him.