The Lantern Gate wasn't a place, it was a ruin. A forgotten checkpoint at the edge of a crumbling cliffside, where stone pillars stood like the broken teeth of some ancient beast. Lanterns once lined the path, but only a few rusted frames remained, swaying in the breeze. Time had swallowed the rest.
Kael stood before it, the letter from his mother folded neatly in his coat pocket. The cold bit at his skin, but his blood felt hotter than ever. Every step he took toward the gate felt heavier, like something was watching.
And something was.
Jun Sera leaned against a broken column, arms crossed, watching the horizon. His face was unreadable, but there was something different about his posture now. Less soldier. More... wary.
"You sure about this?" Jun asked without turning.
Kael didn't stop walking. "She said I'd find what he left behind."
Jun let out a breath, not quite a sigh. "Then you better be ready."
Kael crossed the final stone step, the cracked lantern gate looming over him. In the center of the ruins, half-buried under dirt and shattered stone, he saw it an old trunk sealed with the insignia of the Fang, faint but still visible. His fingers trembled as he brushed off the dust.
It wasn't locked.
Inside was a simple black box, a faded photograph, and a short blade wrapped in crimson cloth. The photo was old, his mother, his father, and a younger version of his grandfather standing together. His father wore the same insignia Kael now held, but his eyes... they looked just like Kael's.
Quiet. Fierce. Burdened.
Under the blade, folded carefully, was a torn page from a journal. His father's handwriting.
"The Fang doesn't protect order. It breeds chaos. Assassins made to obey, to die, to silence truth. But Kael… if you find this, I pray you choose better than I did. You're not their tool. You never were."
Kael gripped the blade, the steel humming faintly in his hand, as if recognizing him.
Jun finally spoke. "That blade was forged for your father. And now it's yours."
Kael rose to his feet slowly, the weapon in one hand, the photo in the other. "He wasn't a traitor. He was a survivor."
Jun nodded once. "And now so are you."
But before Kael could speak, a sharp crack rang through the air like thunder splitting stone. Both he and Jun turned. In the distance, a single figure stepped out from the mist beyond the trees. Cloaked in black. Masked. Watching.
The Fang had found them.
"Looks like you made your choice," Jun muttered, drawing his own blade.
Kael stared at the figure, the weight of the past no longer dragging him down, but sharpening him.
"I didn't come here to run."
He stepped forward.
This time, I'll fight.