The horn echoed through the Rusted Shrine like a death sentence. Deep and thunderous, it made the very stars in the broken sky seem to tremble.
Kael rose, his hand instinctively reaching for the blade at his back. The fire inside him—once dormant—now stirred with a primal heat, awakened by the truth of his bloodline and the vision in the Wound. But revelation didn't make him ready.
Malrek didn't speak. He simply raised his hand, and the Disavowed melted into the ruins like shadows, each one vanishing behind shattered satellites and rusted debris.
Kael turned to Anya. She was awake now, barely. Her eyes flickered, glassy with pain and disorientation.
"Stay hidden," he said. "No matter what you hear."
She tried to respond, but her throat was too dry. She grabbed his hand instead, squeezing weakly.
He squeezed back—and let go.
---
They came as smoke.
Five figures, gliding across the earth as if gravity were beneath them. They wore armor not forged, but grown—a lattice of bone and black steel. Helmets like crow skulls. Capes that hissed and writhed. And on their chests, the brand of the High Circle: a spiral loop crushed inward by seven thorns.
Malrek's voice whispered beside Kael.
> "Chain-Killers. The Circle's blade against rebellion. Not born. Made."
The lead figure stopped at the edge of the shrine.
It spoke without opening its mouth.
> "By Order of the High Circle, bearer of the First Chain… You are condemned. You will kneel. You will be silenced. And the Chain will be reclaimed."
Kael stepped forward, sword drawn.
"Come take it, then."
---
The first to move came like lightning. A blur of smoke and motion, its twin blades slashing through the air toward Kael's throat.
But Kael was faster.
His body moved on instinct—not human, not trained, but called. The blade in his hand met the Chain-Killer's with a ring that split the silence.
The force sent Kael skidding backward, boots carving trenches in the dirt.
Another moved—this one wielding chains laced with razor hooks. It lashed at him, forcing Kael into a spin. He ducked low, flipped over a rusted satellite spine, and landed in a crouch.
A third Chain-Killer appeared behind him. Too fast.
A blade sank into Kael's side.
He screamed—and fire answered.
The wound pulsed. And then the pulse became a roar.
---
Malrek had warned him. The Chain inside him was not just a prison. It was a furnace.
The pain became power.
Kael twisted, grabbing the attacker by the arm—and his touch burned straight through armor. The Chain-Killer shrieked in a distorted, mechanical voice as his arm turned to ash.
Kael rose.
The mark on his back—the sigil from the vision—now glowed. A chain of light spiraled down his arm.
He didn't wait.
Kael leapt forward, blade and chain spinning in tandem. His strike cleaved the hook-wielder in half. The others hesitated.
Malrek emerged from the shadows behind him, flanked by three Disavowed. One held a relic cannon. Another chanted in an old tongue, summoning a spear made of memory and metal.
> "You will not have him," Malrek said. "The world already took too much."
The Chain-Killers attacked again.
---
The battle was chaos.
Steel and shadow. Fire and memory. The Shrine of Rusted Stars burned as old power collided with new rebellion.
Kael was everywhere—no longer just fighting, but unleashing. The Chain in him had awakened fully. It responded to his rage, reshaped his blade into a shifting weapon of thought and bloodlust.
He struck one attacker down with a whip of pure chainlight, then turned to meet the leader.
This one didn't move like the others.
He was taller. His armor more intricate. He carried no visible weapon—only seven rings on his hand, each one pulsing with a different hue.
"I am Sevrix," the figure said. "I remember the original seal. I watched your bloodline be broken and rewritten."
Kael narrowed his eyes. "Then you know what I'm capable of."
Sevrix tilted his head. "Yes. That's why I must erase you."
---
They clashed like gods.
Sevrix moved with impossible grace, every motion matched by the activation of a ring. One slowed time. One bent Kael's strikes backward. Another shattered the ground under his feet.
Kael struggled. His power was growing, but still wild. The Chain burned in his spine, feeding him speed and strength—but not control.
He lunged.
Sevrix vanished—then reappeared behind him, palm against Kael's back.
> "Release."
The world snapped.
Kael screamed as the chain inside him was yanked taut—like someone had just ripped it from his bones. He fell to his knees, vision swimming.
"You are not ready," Sevrix said. "And you never will be."
---
But then—
An arrow screamed from the shadows.
It struck Sevrix in the shoulder—piercing clean through.
He staggered back, surprised.
A girl stood at the edge of the shrine, holding a cracked bow.
Anya.
She was trembling, bleeding, barely standing—but her eyes burned with defiance.
> "Get away from him," she rasped.
Sevrix turned slowly. Raised a hand.
Kael's rage exploded.
The chain in his body snapped free.
Not broken.
Unleashed.
---
He moved faster than thought.
In one breath, he was beside Sevrix.
In the next, his blade carved through three of the man's rings—severing the magic.
Sevrix recoiled, his mask shattering. Kael saw a face—young, pale, human.
But not alive.
A husk.
Held together by hate.
"You… cannot win," Sevrix hissed. "You are part of the system. You exist only to delay the inevitable."
Kael raised his blade.
> "Then I'll delay it with your corpse."
And drove it through Sevrix's heart.
The Chain-Killer gasped—and dissolved into light.
---
Silence.
Kael dropped to his knees, gasping. His wounds burned. His mind reeled.
Malrek approached slowly.
"You severed three rings," he said. "That should not be possible."
Kael looked at his hand. The chain had wrapped itself around his wrist—glowing faintly, no longer burning.
Anya fell to her knees beside him. He caught her, held her close.
"You shouldn't have moved."
"You shouldn't have fought alone," she whispered.
They held each other in the rubble of the shrine.
But the peace didn't last.
One of the Disavowed sprinted into the clearing, blood streaming down his face.
"Malrek!" he cried. "The Outer Ring has fallen. The High Circle has opened the Gate. They're sending the Harvesters."
Malrek turned to Kael.
> "This… this was only a test."
Kael's blood ran cold.
> "What's a Harvester?"
Malrek's mask tilted upward.
> "Not what. Who."
And from the distant mountains, a tremor rolled through the land like thunder.
---