Seltiqz

“When the sun died, the world didn’t end. It changed.”

Kael Serrin is one of the last survivors of a world swallowed by twilight. When humanity fled into bunkers and shadows, something else came through: The Rift—a cosmic wound that spills horrors into the world and leaves only monsters in its wake.

Those who survive the Rift’s touch are changed. Marked. Cursed.

Kael wakes to find the Mark of Dusk burned into his flesh and a new power whispering in his mind. Now taken to a brutal facility known as the Riftline, he’s forced into a lethal training program with others like him—test subjects turned weapons in the war against the Hollowborn.

But power comes at a price.

The Mark feeds on memory, emotion, even time—and the more Kael uses it, the more something inside him begins to awaken.

He doesn’t know who to trust.
He doesn’t know if he’ll survive.
He only knows one thing:

He has to get back to his sister—even if it means becoming the very monster the world fears.

Duskbound:Zero

The elevator groaned as it descended into the earth, its rusted cables shrieking in protest. Kael pressed his back against the cold steel wall, his Mark throbbing in time with the flickering emergency lights. Across from him, Lyss clutched her rifle like a lifeline, her silver eyes wide and unblinking. The black veins under her collarbone pulsed visibly beneath her skin.

"You should be afraid," the whisper in Kael's skull murmured. "The first Duskbound who entered this place forgot how to scream before they forgot how to breathe."

Veyra peeled back her bandages, revealing the glowing cracks spreading up her forearm. "They're not testing us," she said, her voice flat. "They're seeing how much we can take before we break."

The elevator shuddered to a halt with a final, bone-rattling clang. For a heartbeat, there was only silence—then the doors screeched open, revealing a darkness so complete it felt like staring into the throat of some ancient beast.

The air that rushed in stank of rotting meat and ozone. Kael's eyes watered as he stepped forward, his boots sinking slightly into the spongy floor. The walls weren't stone—they pulsed faintly, veined with the same obsidian threads as Dain's armor.

Not the mechanical drones from the Pit. This thing unfolded itself from the shadows with a series of wet, cracking sounds, its elongated limbs bending at impossible angles. When it turned, Kael's breath caught in his throat—it wore Nia's face, her features stretched and twisted into something monstrous.

"Kael," it whispered in his sister's voice, the sound dripping with mock concern. "You were supposed to protect me."

Lyss made a choked sound behind him. "It's not real," she gasped. "The Hollowborn can't—"

Kael's Mark erupted in agony as shadows burst from his skin, forming jagged blades that sliced through the air. The creature dodged with unnatural speed, its laughter echoing through the chamber.

"Let me in," the whisper urged, its voice suddenly eager. "Just a little deeper. I can make you strong enough to kill it."

Veyra moved like lightning, her Bloodecho-enhanced fist slamming into the creature's ribs with a sickening crunch. It barely flinched, backhanding her into the wall with enough force to crack stone.

"We need to run!" Lyss screamed, her Voidecho sparking wildly around her fingers.

The Nia-thing tilted its head, its smile widening until the skin at the corners of its mouth split. "But we've only just started playing," it crooned, stepping over Veyra's crumpled form.

Kael's vision swam as the Mark's hunger roared through him. He could feel it—the thing inside him, waiting, watching.

"Say the word," it murmured. "And I'll make the pain stop."

The creature lunged again, and this time, Kael didn't dodge.

The Deep Hollow