Kai came to with the taste of blood in his mouth and the scent of jasmine oil thick in his nose—her scent. His vision swam as he tried to sit up, the Void Resonance Core still clenched in his fist like a dying man's last prayer. The cot creaked under his skinny frame, his side burning where the axe had grazed him in the market. His shoulder throbbed, his head felt like it'd been smashed with the trader's soul-rod, and the All-Devouring Clock hummed loud, its ticks urging him to move.
What in the world?
The forge's heat hit him first—a dry, metallic wave carrying the scent of molten brass and something sharper, like lightning given form. Crystal vats bubbled with golden soul essence along the far wall, their contents swirling in time with the rhythmic clunking of massive gears overhead. Torren's workshop. Right.
But that voice—
"Awake at last, little shadow?"
Silk over steel.
Kai's gut twisted, his void-black soul essence flaring in response before he could stop it. Lysara, Lady of Roza, his stepmother, stood framed in the forge's iron doorway, her emerald robes pristine despite the soot-laden air. The same robes she'd worn at his father's funeral, the gold threads glinting like her poison-green eyes. Her smile didn't reach those eyes. Never had.
The memory burned fresh: Lysara standing over the coffin, lips curled in that same mockery of grief while servants whispered behind their hands. She collects rare things, they'd said. And destroys what she can't control.
Like his mother, dead in a "hunting accident" when he was six.
Like his father, gone in a fall Lysara called fate.
Torren's hammer hit the anvil with a deafening clang that shook the workshop. "This ain't your territory, Lysara," the old man growled, his gray beard flecked with ash from the forge. The Early Stage Soul Master's muscles tensed beneath his leather apron as the runes on the forging table pulsed in response to the Core in Kai's hand.
Lysara took a step forward, the gold-threaded hem of her dress brushing against the still-glowing trapdoor from the market fight. "Everything in Roza is my territory," she purred. "Especially what belongs to my household." Her eyes locked onto Kai, Mid Stage Soul Initiate, with the cold calculation of a merchant appraising damaged goods. "Aren't you tired of sleeping in gutters, stepson?"
The Core pulsed hot against Kai's palm, its runes flickering with dark light. His void essence twisted in his gut, reacting to her presence with something almost like recognition—like it remembered every lie, every betrayal.
"You don't want me," Kai spat, fingers tightening around the artifact until his knuckles turned white. "You want this."
Lysara's laugh was the chime of broken glass. "Clever boy. That artifact belonged to your father. Stolen the night he died." She extended a hand, the soul essence rings on her fingers glinting with restrained power. "Give it back, and I'll forget your... unfortunate existence."
Torren moved between them, his shadow stretching unnaturally long in the forge's flickering light. The crystal hammer in his grip hummed with barely contained energy. "The Core chose the kid. You know how this works."
For the first time, Lysara's perfect mask slipped. A tic in her jaw. A flicker of something dark in her eyes. "That makes him a dead man."
Chronopolis' vaults were colder than a grave.
Zephyr, Peak Stage Soul Grandmaster, pressed against the obsidian wall, his black cloak blending seamlessly with the shadows thanks to his Shadow Veil technique. Below, Inquisitor Veyra, Late Stage Soul Master, paced before her underlings, her boots clicking against blood-slicked floors. The scroll in her hand bore the Eclipse Council's highest seal—the kind that meant death for anyone foolish enough to break it.
Zephyr's void-dagger hummed quietly at his side, its edge hungry for blood. He'd slipped into the capital to gather intelligence after leaving Kai with Torren, but this—
"Subject: Lysara of Roza," Veyra read aloud, her voice sharp as a honed blade. "Asset status: Active. Note: Elimination of husband confirmed. Void Core retrieval: Pending."
Hell.
Zephyr's grip on his dagger tightened until the leather-wrapped hilt creaked. Sweat beaded on his brow despite the vault's chill. Lysara wasn't just Kai's stepmother—she was the Council's personal assassin. She'd killed the boy's father for the Core, then spent years hunting Kai like an animal.
The prophecy flashed in his mind: A boy with essence that devoured light would be the savior, in the broken city he rises.
Kai's void essence, eating the marketplace's torchlight like it was nothing, fit the description too perfectly. The Council wanted that Core, and they'd sent their best weapon to retrieve it.
Transcendence, they called it.
Ascension.
All pretty words for chains.
Zephyr had stayed at Peak Stage Grandmaster for decades, dodging their rituals, because freedom was worth more than power. But Kai? The kid was a walking target with a bullseye painted on his back.
Veyra's head snapped up suddenly, her nostrils flaring. "Find the Shadow,"she commanded her underlings. "And bring me Lysara's pet before she gets... overzealous."
A drop of Zephyr's sweat hit the floor.
The Inquisitor's gaze flicked toward the sound.
He froze, essence coiled tight, ready to bolt with Night Stride at the slightest provocation.
Back in the forge, the air crackled with tension thick enough to choke on.
Kai's stomach growled—he couldn't remember his last real meal—but the sensation was drowned out by the Core's burning heat in his palm, its hum syncing perfectly with the All-Devouring Clock's relentless ticks.
"Father didn't fall," he said, the realization hitting like a punch to the gut. His voice came out low, rough with disuse and something darker. "You pushed him. Because he knew what this was."
Lysara's smile turned venomous. "He was a sentimental fool. Just like you." With a flick of her wrist, six armored figures stepped from the shadows—Mid Stage Soul Masters, their blades glinting with suppression runes designed to dull essence. "Last chance, boy."
Torren's whisper was barely audible over the forge's growing hum: "The Core's waking the forge. When it does—"
Kai didn't wait.
The first Soul Master lunged, blade swinging in a golden arc—Iron Slash.
Kai's void essence erupted from his free hand in a torrent of black flames—Void Blaze. The unnatural fire consumed the man's sword arm in an instant, charring flesh to bone. The Soul Master screamed, collapsing as the stench of burnt meat filled the workshop.
The Core's runes blazed crimson in response, matching the engravings now burning through the forge's walls like living fire:
"Blood of the Forgotten shall reignite the Flame."
Lysara stumbled back, her perfect composure cracking for the first time Kai could remember. "Impossible. The lineage was purged—"
"Oops," Kai bared his teeth in something too sharp to be a smile. "Guess great-granddaddy had secrets too."
His void essence surged, the Clock's hum becoming deafening. The forge's gears screeched in protest, the vats of golden soul essence bubbling violently as the ancient runes glowed brighter. His blood sang in his veins, alive in a way he'd never felt before—like it recognized the forge, the Core, the truth Lysara had tried so hard to bury.
Void Cores weren't just artifacts.
They were heirlooms.
And he was the last heir of the Forgotten.
The remaining Soul Masters charged as one, their blades flashing in a coordinated Chain Strike, golden links of essence aiming to bind and restrain.
Kai dodged left, the Core pulsing in his grip, and unleashed a Void Pulse—a black shockwave that shattered two of the enchanted blades and sent their wielders flying.
Torren didn't miss a beat. The old forger swung his crystal hammer in a devastating Forge Slam, crushing another attacker's chest with a spray of sparks and essence. "Keep moving, kid!" he bellowed over the chaos.
Lysara's eyes narrowed. Her rings glowed a sickly green as she raised one hand—Venom Whip, a lash of toxic essence snapping toward Kai's throat.
He rolled, but not fast enough. The whip grazed his arm, and fire exploded through his nerves. His vision blurred at the edges, the acid-like pain threatening to drop him to his knees.
But the Clock's ticks grew louder, more insistent.
Pushing him.
Demanding.
No more running.
Zephyr's dagger was at Veyra's throat before she could scream, his Shadow Veil dissipating like smoke. The underlings froze, their half-drawn blades forgotten.
"How long has Lysara worked for the Council?" he hissed, pressing the edge just deep enough to draw a thin line of blood.
Veyra gasped, her eyes wide with shock. "Since—since before the marriage. The Eclipse wanted the Core... needed Forgotten blood to—"
Her words cut off as the entire vault shook, dust raining from the ceiling. A deep, resonant roar echoed through the chamber, like a great furnace awakening after centuries of slumber.
Zephyr's heart skipped a beat.
The forge.
Kai.
"He's awakened it," Veyra whispered, genuine terror in her voice now. "The Forgotten's heir..."
"Talk," Zephyr pressed the blade harder. "Now."
"The Core... it's tied to the forge. Only Forgotten blood can ignite it. Lysara was to secure it, eliminate the bloodline. The Council can't let it burn." Her eyes darted to the shaking walls. "It'll ruin us."
Zephyr's mind raced. The prophecy wasn't just real—it was already in motion. Kai was the savior, and the Council had known it all along.
With a snarl, he shoved Veyra back and bolted for the vault's exit, his Night Stride blurring his form into near-invisibility.
He had to get to Roza.
The kid was in deeper than either of them had realized.
In the forge, Kai's shadow stretched toward the anvil like a living thing, the Core's runes blazing like fallen stars. The massive hammer atop the anvil—etched with runes older than Roza itself—lifted without being touched, floating in a haze of void essence.
Torren fell to one knee, his eyes wide with something between awe and terror. "Well, shit. The kid is the heir."
Lysara screamed, her Venom Whip lashing out again—but this time, Kai's void essence flared into a Void Shield, a black barrier that burned the toxic energy to ash before it could touch him.
The hammer spun once, twice, then slammed down with a boom that shook the foundations—Flame Reignition—a shockwave of void and fire that blasted the remaining Soul Masters into the walls, their suppression runes shattering like glass.
The forge's engravings glowed molten red, the massive gears grinding like some great beast stirring from slumber.
Outside, Roza's city bells began to toll—a deep, mournful sound that hadn't been heard in living memory.
Kai's chest heaved, the Core searing his palm even as it whispered secrets directly into his blood—power, weapons, a legacy stolen by Lysara's lies.
His stepmother's face was pale, her rings dim. "You... you'll die for this," she whispered, backing toward the trapdoor.
Torren stood, grinning like a madman."Run, Lady. The kid's just getting started."
Kai's vision swam, the forge's heat and his wounds threatening to drag him under. The Core pulsed in time with his heartbeat, its whispers growing louder—
But the trapdoor flared red, brighter than before, and a low, guttural growl shook the very stones beneath their feet.
Something was coming.
Something the forge had called.
And it was hungry.