Worm awoke back in the mine tunnel — but it wasn't the same. The stone chamber he'd discovered was gone, collapsed in rubble. His skin was slick with sweat, but beneath it pulsed a strange warmth… a power.
He clenched his fist.
The shadows answered.
Darkness slithered from his palm like smoke given form. It twisted and danced in the air, responding to his thoughts, his will. It felt alive. Hungry.
What… is this? he thought. But even without answers, he knew — this was his now.
A loud clang echoed behind him.
"Slave!"
Worm turned. Overseer Brakk stomped into view, lantern in one hand, whip in the other. His bald head gleamed with sweat, and his eyes narrowed at the sight of Worm standing where no slave should be.
"You dare leave your cage?" Brakk snarled, raising the whip.
Old instincts told Worm to drop, to beg, to break.
But something deeper growled within him.
No more.
Brakk swung the whip. The crack split the air—then stopped, caught mid-snap by something… invisible.
A thin tendril of shadow had emerged from the ground, wrapping around the whip like a serpent.
Brakk's eyes widened. "What in the–"
Worm raised his hand.
The shadows surged forward like a wave, slamming into Brakk's chest and sending him flying into the tunnel wall. His lantern shattered. Light died.
Now only shadows remained.
Worm stepped forward. The overseer gasped, wheezing as ribs cracked.
"You should've left me alone," Worm said, his voice calm… and laced with something unnatural. Echoing.
He didn't kill Brakk — not yet. He needed him afraid.
The boy who had been nothing now walked past his master, unshackled. With every step, his power whispered promises of vengeance and freedom.
The mine would remember this night.
And the world would soon know the name once spoken with contempt:
Shadowbrand.