The Betrayal on Emberfall Plains

"Why do you look at me like that?" she asked quietly, watching him closely now.

Kael'thar blinked. "Like what?"

"Like you've never seen me before." Her voice had gone even quieter. "Like... like you don't remember me at all."

That stopped him. He looked away, trying to hide the moment of uncertainty in his expression. She was perceptive, far more than the others.

"What are you talking about?" he muttered, slipping easily into annoyance. "You're imagining things."

But she didn't look convinced. She tilted her head, like she was studying a memory.

"You used to smile. Even when you were hurting. You didn't speak much, but you were never cold. You never snapped at anyone before. You used to call me Ava... like I mattered."

Her words cut deeper than Kael'thar expected. He wasn't this boy. He had never been him. And yet, hearing how he used to be spoken of—sweet, timid, respectful—was like being compared to a ghost.

A ghost he now wore like a mask.

Ava sighed, turning away. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. It's just... something feels different. I just hope—" she hesitated, looking back at him, "—that whatever's hurting you now... you'll let someone help."

Kael'thar looked down at his hands. The hands of a boy who had suffered quietly. Who had smiled through pain. Who had once trusted this girl.

 He couldn't afford to raise suspicions.

So, with a breath that felt like swallowing stone, he said softly, "Thank you… Ava."

Her eyes widened, not expecting him to say her name.

"I'm just tired," he added, turning away so she wouldn't see the storm behind his eyes. "I'll be fine."

Ava gave a small, sad smile. "Alright. But if you ever need to talk... I'm still here. Like always."

She turned and walked back toward the house, her figure slowly fading into the dark.

Kael'thar remained crouched beside the car, gripping the rag in his hand.

Who were you, Zayn?

Why did they treat you like dirt?

And why does she still care?

For the first time, the great overlord felt not only pity, but a strange sense of duty. Not just for himself, but for the boy whose life he now wore.

As he retired to his bed.

The skies above Emberfall darkened long before the storm arrived.

The earth trembled beneath armored boots and stomping hooves. Banner after banner of crimson and obsidian flapped in the wind, each bearing the sigil of the Overlord Kael'thar the Undying—a skeletal dragon coiled around a black sun. His army, clad in voidsteel and enchanted fleshmail, stretched across the plains in perfect formation, tens of thousands deep. They were not merely soldiers. They were his chosen. His undead legions. His elemental titans. His loyal spellweavers.

And at the center, standing atop a jagged obsidian platform carved from the bones of fallen gods, stood Kael'thar himself.

He was clad in a flowing mantle of ancient magic, pulsing with ghostfire. His armor shimmered, forged from a dying star, etched with runes long forgotten by men and gods alike. His eyes—silver flames in a chiseled, ageless face—surveyed the horizon like a god of war summoned to pass judgment. The crown on his head was fused to his skull, radiating pressure that made even seasoned warriors kneel.

"Today," Kael'thar spoke, his voice amplified through sorcery, booming across the army like thunder, "we end this rebellion. The false king who dares challenge me will fall like the rest. We are not here to negotiate. We are here to remind the world who rules."

Cheers erupted. Magic crackled. Even the wind seemed to bow.

Beside him stood his brother—Lord Auron, robed in celestial white and silver armor, a war-saint wielding a blade of radiant sunfire. Where Kael'thar was chaos and command, Auron was balance and charm. Together, they were legend: the left and right hand of an empire unbroken for a thousand years.

"You trust him far too easily," whispered Grand Seer Malvora, her blind eyes turning to Auron. "His aura flickers. Something lurks beneath."

Kael'thar gave no reply. His loyalty to his brother was forged in blood, not prophecy.

As they advanced toward the opposing army—an alliance of human kingdoms and rogue gods—Kael'thar raised his greatblade Voidcleaver to the sky. It pulsed, dark energy ripping clouds apart.

"Charge!"

The battle began in a fury of magic and death. Titans clashed, spells tore the skies, and monsters from the abyss were unleashed. Kael'thar carved through generals like parchment, his movements a dance of destruction. Auron fought at his side, blade gleaming, light and shadow working in perfect harmony.

Until...

Kael'thar turned to command the advance on the northern ridge. Auron stood behind him, unmoving.

"Auron," he called, "take the flank and secure the Sealed Gate."

But there was no answer.

Then came the pain—hot, searing, and foreign. A blade of sunlight pierced Kael'thar's side.

He turned, staggered, and saw Auron's face—cold, remorseful, yet resolute.

"You...?" Kael'thar gasped.

"I'm sorry, brother," Auron whispered. "But you've become what we once swore to destroy."

With a shout, Auron drove the blade deeper. Kael'thar fell to one knee, power flaring, reacting, his scream splitting the air as an explosion of dark magic leveled the nearby field.

The battle paused.

His soldiers faltered, confused.

Auron raised his hand—and the opposing army stopped attacking.

From their ranks emerged old allies of Kael'thar—commanders he thought dead or loyal. Their armor now bore the sigil of a new regime: The Order of the Dawnborn.

Kael'thar's eyes blazed with betrayal. "You were always the golden child. But I raised this empire when the world was ash. I gave us power."

"And in doing so, you chained us all," Auron replied, stepping back.

Blood dripped from Kael'thar's mouth as he rose, trembling but alive. The light-blade still burned in his body, but he grasped it and pulled it free with a cry that cracked the sky.

"You dare strike me down?" he hissed. "You will regret not finishing it."

Darkness burst from him like a nova. His army, sensing his wrath, roared in unison. The dead stirred, the skies wept ash.

"I may fall," Kael'thar snarled, "but this world will remember that I was betrayed, not defeated."

Then he shut his eyes

slowly. Then he jerk, as the morning ray penetrated his eyes he looked up to see he was still in Zayn body.