Teaser Chapter: The Dawn of Veils
The night after the bloodbath was unnervingly quiet. The street that had echoed with screeches now lay empty, littered only with black stains that shimmered faintly under the moonlight—a reminder that the monsters were real, and so were the scars they left behind.
Ariv sat alone on the terrace of his house, knees drawn up, the cool wind brushing against his skin. The locket on his chest glimmered faintly, pulsing like a heartbeat. His fingers traced its surface absently as his thoughts spiraled in a storm he couldn't calm.
What did he mean?
Rudraen's voice still rang in his ears:
"Ariv Senra… things are about to change."
Change? Everything had already changed. His quiet life of school and riverside walks was gone, shattered the moment those crescent-eyed beasts crawled out of shadows. Gone the moment he first felt that crushing pressure by the river. Gone the night he killed without meaning to.
And yet, some part of him knew… this was only the beginning.
He lifted his eyes to the stars, to the constellation that had haunted his dreams—the Galaxy Zenith. Its shimmering arcs seemed almost closer tonight, as if leaning in to whisper secrets only he could hear.
Footsteps broke his thoughts. Neel emerged from the doorway, hands shoved deep in his hoodie pockets. He didn't speak at first. Just walked over, leaned against the railing, and stared at the sky beside him.
"Couldn't sleep?" Ariv asked, voice calm but heavy.
Neel smirked faintly. "Sleep? After that… circus? No chance."
Silence stretched between them, taut like a wire ready to snap.
Then Neel said, "You still trust her?"
Ariv's brows knit. "Who?"
"Your mom." Neel's gaze didn't move from the stars. "You think she told you everything?"
Ariv felt the question slice deeper than he wanted to admit. His mother's words replayed in his head—the truths, the half-answers, the pain in her eyes when she said she just wanted to protect him.
Before he could answer, Neel spoke again. "Listen, Ariv. You've seen the surface. The pretty picture. The stories they feed you. But what's underneath?" He turned, his silver eyes glinting in the moonlight like shards of glass. "You don't know. None of us do."
Ariv met his gaze, unflinching. "Then tell me what you know."
A bitter laugh escaped Neel's lips. "If I start, there's no going back." He looked away, toward the horizon where the shadows of the city bled into darkness. "Because the truth isn't a story, Ariv. It's a war. And we're standing in the middle of it."
Ariv didn't blink. "Then start talking."
But Neel didn't. Not yet. He only muttered something under his breath—a single line Ariv barely caught.
"The king wasn't the end… he was the beginning."
Before Ariv could demand more, Vaishnavi's voice called from inside the house, breaking the fragile stillness.
The night ended without answers.
But as the dawn crawled across the horizon, painting the sky in bruised gold, something stirred far beyond the mortal world.
---
Meanwhile… Elsewhere
A vast hall of obsidian stretched endlessly, its ceiling lost in darkness. Monolithic pillars carved with sigils pulsed faintly like veins of molten gold. And at its heart, upon a throne that looked less crafted and more grown from the bones of worlds, sat a figure cloaked in flowing silver.
Eryon.
One hand rested on the arm of the throne, the other tracing idle patterns in the air—each motion birthing sparks of starfire that faded like dying suns. His eyes, deep as galaxies, stared through the void as a voice echoed behind him.
"They've awakened," said the shadow kneeling at his feet. "The Zenith bloodline… and the Lunar Veil."
Eryon's lips curved—not in joy, nor in anger, but something colder.
"So the game begins."
He rose, and the hall trembled as if the universe itself shivered at his movement. His cloak spilled like liquid night as he whispered words that curled like smoke in the air:
"If fate dares to defy me… I will burn fate itself."
The shadow dared to ask, "What about the boy?"
Eryon's smile was the death of stars.
"He will either kneel… or break."
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Back on Earth
Rudraen stood on the edge of a crumbling rooftop, his coat whipping in the wind, eyes locked on the sleeping city below. Behind him, his twelve warriors waited in silence, their masks catching the pale light like fragments of a shattered moon.
One of them spoke. "Captain… orders?"
Rudraen didn't answer immediately. His mind wasn't on the city. It was on the boy. The one who carried the name and the bloodline no one should have possessed.
Finally, he said, "Keep your eyes on the veils. The fractures are widening." He gripped the hilt of his blade, its edge humming faintly as if hungering for war. "And as for Ariv Senra…"
His voice lowered, more to himself than anyone else.
"I'll tell him the truth… even if it kills him."
The wind howled, carrying with it the scent of ash and storms.
Far above, the stars flickered like dying embers.
And in that fragile silence before the storm, the first whispers of a new war stirred—a war that would decide the fate of all three realms.
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🔥 Volume 3 – Shattered Horizons
Three worlds will bleed. The seven veils will tremble. And a boy caught between gods will face the truth he was never meant to know.