CHAPTER 3 PT 1
The air in the crumbled market was thick with ash and tension. Wind howled through the fractured stalls and shattered buildings, carrying the scent of old blood and dust. Ires Venn stood alone among the ruins, her breathing steady but sharp. The sky was an ominous shade of iron gray, swirling like a wound refusing to close.
She gripped her father's blade—a short, broad sword that bore the sigil of Craymoor's last standing guard. The leather-wrapped hilt was frayed from countless battles, but she'd never let it go. Not since the day her father pressed it into her hand with shaking fingers and a single word:
"Survive."
The memory hit her hard today, of all days. She remembered her father's stern eyes, not unkind, but always intense. A man hardened by loss but softened by the presence of his only daughter. She remembered sparring under the peach-colored dusk, her blade clashing with his in the training yard. She remembered laughter. Training. Meals in silence. The feeling of safety.
All of it gone.
And then the portal opened.
A vertical tear of light sliced the air apart above the shattered street like a gaping maw, and out of it dropped a creature.
No, not just any creature.
A World Eater—but not like the ones they'd seen before. This one was taller, leaner, its obsidian armor glistening with runes etched in pulsating red. Its limbs moved with purpose, its glowing white eyes scanned the area with awareness. Intelligence.
It turned its head and sniffed the air like a wolf finding prey.
Ires didn't flinch.
She drew her blade. Her body lowered into a stance taught to her by the very man she might never see again. This wasn't a monster to run from. This was a monster to face.
The creature snarled, its voice a low, distorted growl that sounded like ten voices screaming underwater. Then it lunged.
She met it head-on. The clash of steel against claw echoed through the ruins. Ires ducked beneath its strike, rolled, and slashed across its thigh, but the wound barely slowed it. It countered with speed, claws aimed at her neck.
She blocked with the flat of her blade, but the impact flung her across the cobbled street.
Pain bloomed in her ribs. Blood filled her mouth. She staggered to her feet, breathing hard.
The World Eater stalked toward her, claws twitching, a cruel smirk on its twisted face.
She braced herself for the final blow—
Then the shadows around her erupted.
A dark presence surged from the broken stall behind her. A blur of black mist and burning red eyes blinked into existence.
Zenith.
He emerged from her own shadow, the floating black crystal spiraling around him like a ravenous satellite. His body crackled with black lightning. His eyes weren't the soft brown she once knew—they glowed like dying stars.
Teleportation. One moment, he wasn't there. The next, he was between her and the monster, hand raised.
"Touch her," he growled, "and I'll send you back in pieces."
The World Eater hissed, recognizing the crystal. It lunged again.
Zenith vanished.
He blinked behind the beast and slammed his heel into its spine. The impact sent the monster crashing through a rusted cart. Before it could recover, Zenith reappeared above it and landed, knees-first, into its back.
The ground quaked.
Ires, still catching her breath, watched in awe. The Zenith she knew—quiet, careful, broken—was now moving like the wind itself.
The World Eater shrieked and flung him off. Zenith blinked mid-air and appeared behind it again, wrapping its head in a chokehold. Black tendrils of chaotic energy surged from the crystal, wrapping around the creature's limbs.
But this one was smart.
It teleported.
A red flash—different from Zenith's dark aura—and the World Eater appeared behind Zenith, slashing across his back. Blood sprayed into the dirt.
Zenith staggered but didn't fall.
Ires was up in an instant, blade flashing. She charged, striking the monster's ribs with such force it cracked one of its armored plates. She screamed as she swung again, remembering her friends, her home, her father.
The creature backhanded her. She hit the ground hard, coughing blood.
Zenith's face twisted into fury. The crystal screamed.
A surge of power flowed into his limbs, and in a blur of shadows, he appeared beside the beast and unleashed a flurry of punches that cracked the air like thunder. With every hit, tendrils of shadow surged from his knuckles, drilling deeper into the monster's body.
Then he disappeared.
Then reappeared.
Above. Below. Beside. Each time landing another brutal blow.
"Zenith—!" Ires shouted as the creature tried one last attack, a red beam building in its throat.
Too late.
Zenith teleported inside its shadow.
A beat of silence.
Then the World Eater's chest exploded outward in a fountain of dark energy as Zenith emerged, soaked in blood and breathing heavily.
The beast collapsed.
Zenith stood there, barely upright, the crystal orbiting him slowly. He turned to Ires, eyes still glowing, chest rising and falling like a man possessed.
"I'm okay," she said weakly, pushing herself up.
He walked over and helped her to her feet. She noticed his hands were shaking.
"You good?" she asked.
He didn't answer. Instead, he looked up at the portal—still hanging in the sky—and then back at the corpse.
"They're evolving," he said. "Getting smarter."
The crystal pulsed. A whisper echoed in his mind.
"More will come."