The cave behind them collapsed.
Stone groaned, cracked, and fell inward like the mountain was swallowing its own secrets. Dust choked the air. A gust of black wind swept across the ledge, almost pushing Coker off the edge. He didn't flinch. He just watched.
The Voice beneath the Earth had vanished.
But its last whisper still echoed inside his skull.
*"When the sky forgets your name, burn it into memory."*
Coker clenched his fists, feeling the burn crawl back into his veins. The mark on his chest no longer throbbed—it pulsed with rhythm, like it was syncing with the heartbeat of something far larger than himself.
Lilin stood beside him, her face pale, eyes empty.
"That wasn't supposed to happen," she murmured.
Coker looked at her, his voice low. "What do you mean?"
"The Voice—it wasn't supposed to speak to you. Not yet. You weren't ready."
"Maybe I was," he said.
"No," she said, shaking her head. "You just think you are."
---
They descended the cliff slowly, the wind heavier now. Every gust carried with it the sound of distant screams—not from humans, but something older, animalistic, like the forest itself was mourning.
The soldiers marched behind them, shields up, weapons drawn. They hadn't spoken since the cave. Not a word. Something had changed in them too.
Coker could feel it. Like something inside them had been stirred—something ancient, and not entirely loyal.
He didn't blame them.
Even he didn't know who he was anymore.
---
At the bottom of the cliff, they entered a narrow valley. It was filled with jagged stones and bone-white trees with no leaves. Fog hugged the ground like a blanket of ghosts.
Lilin stopped suddenly.
Coker turned. "What is it?"
"We're being watched."
The fog moved.
Shapes appeared—dozens of them.
Not demons. Not soldiers.
People.
Men and women with strange tattoos covering their faces, cloaks made of bark and ash, eyes black as ink. They stepped forward in complete silence, forming a wall around Coker and his army.
One of them, taller than the rest, spoke.
"You've broken the Seal."
Coker said nothing.
The tall man stepped closer. "You wear the Devourer's mark. Do you remember what you are?"
"I'm not him," Coker said.
The man tilted his head. "That's what he said the first time."
Lilin stepped in. "He's not ready for your riddles."
The man ignored her. He looked at Coker with something between pity and fear. "Then prepare yourself. Because memory is a tide. You can't stop it. Only choose what to drown with."
He reached into his robe and pulled out a small stone tablet, etched with red lines.
"Take this," he said. "When you dream again, press your blood into it. It will show you what the stars forgot."
Coker accepted it. The stone was warm. Too warm.
Then the man and his people stepped back into the fog and vanished.
Not a single footstep.
Not a single sound.
---
That night, they camped near the ruins of a broken tower. The structure leaned sideways like it had been snapped in half by some long-forgotten god.
Coker sat on the edge of the camp, watching the stars.
He hadn't spoken since the valley.
The stone tablet sat on his lap, pulsing slightly.
He didn't want to sleep. Not anymore. Dreams were no longer safe. Dreams were where the dead remembered.
But exhaustion won.
He laid back.
And the world faded.
---
He opened his eyes inside a memory.
Not his own.
He stood on a battlefield where the sky bled green and the ground was fire. The air reeked of death. All around him, thousands fought—some with swords, some with bare hands, others with magic made from screams and dust.
At the center of it all stood the Devourer.
Tall. Cloaked in black flame. His face covered by a mask carved from bone.
He raised his hand, and the sky cracked open.
From it fell spears made of stars.
Entire legions vanished in an instant.
Coker stared at the figure.
"Is that… me?"
Then the Devourer turned.
And looked straight at him.
"No," the voice said. "I am what you become when you forget why you began."
Coker felt himself yanked backward.
---
He woke up screaming.
The soldiers jumped. Lilin rushed to his side.
"What did you see?"
He didn't answer. He just looked down at the tablet. It was glowing now. The blood from his palm had soaked into it.
Lilin followed his gaze.
"So… it's begun."
"What is it?" he asked.
She hesitated. "The Tablet of Sorrow. It shows you what the stars tried to erase. Memories older than the sky."
"Why me?"
"Because you're the last piece."
Coker stood slowly. The night was silent, too silent. Even the insects refused to speak.
He walked to the edge of camp.
In the distance, he saw torches.
Hundreds of them.
Moving fast.
Lilin stepped beside him. "The Sky Watchers."
"They're coming?"
"They were always coming. But now… they're bringing chains."
---
Within minutes, the torches became figures.
Armored. Winged. Eyes glowing blue.
At their head, a man in silver armor rode a creature made of lightning.
He pointed at Coker.
"You are marked. You are forbidden. You are unremembered. Come willingly, and we will unmake the curse."
Coker didn't move.
Lilin whispered, "Don't fight. Not yet. You're still unstable."
But Coker stepped forward.
His mark glowed brighter.
"No more running," he said. "You want me? Then try."
The soldiers behind him roared.
The earth beneath him cracked.
And the sky screamed.
Lightning fell like rain. The trees caught fire.
The Sky Watchers charged.
And Coker met them head-on.
---
He moved through them like a blade made of shadow.
Every strike he made wasn't just power—it was memory. Each blow pulled a piece of the past back into him.
He remembered names.
He remembered screams.
He remembered betrayal.
Within minutes, the field was covered in fallen angels.
The man in silver staggered forward, blood pouring from his mouth.
"What… are you?"
Coker stepped closer, eyes burning with darkness and fire.
"I'm what you tried to forget."
He touched the man's forehead.
And the man turned to ash.
---
When it was over, silence returned.
The only sound was the slow drip of blood on grass.
Lilin looked at him, not with fear—but with something close to grief.
"You're changing too fast," she whispered. "You'll burn out."
"Then let me burn," Coker said.
He looked at his hands.
They weren't just glowing now—they were cracking.
Light spilled from the cracks.
Like a soul trying to escape.
---
Far away, in the ruins of an old city, the blind priest woke from his trance.
His hands trembled.
"The Seal is no longer broken," he whispered.
"It's gone."
---
And in a hidden chamber, deep beneath the sea, a woman opened her eyes.
She smiled.
"So… the Devourer walks again."
She stood slowly, bones cracking.
And behind her, thousands of silver eyes blinked open.