The city was buried beneath the earth.
Not in ruins. Not collapsed by war. But intentionally entombed, sealed beneath mountains of rock and spells older than language. Graxion stood before a jagged cliff face, his shadow dancing behind him under the glow of twin moons.
> [Location Discovered: Nytheris – City of the First Blood]
Warning: Dimensional instability detected.
Proceed at your own risk.
He reached out, placing a hand on the stone. It was warm.
No… alive.
The ring on his finger began to hum. Shadows curled around his palm like serpents, whispering. He closed his eyes, letting them guide him.
Then—crack.
The cliff split open in a perfect circle, revealing a black staircase spiraling down into nothingness.
Graxion took a breath, then descended.
---
The deeper he went, the more the air changed. He no longer felt the cold. He no longer heard the wind. Only the heartbeat of something old pulsed in the silence, syncing with his own.
The stairs led to a vast chamber—walls carved from obsidian, etched with runes pulsing dimly. At its center stood a throne of bone and silver, and slumped atop it was a corpse. Or so it seemed.
Its skin was gray, stretched tight across sharp bones. Its eyes were closed, but its presence—its sheer weight—threatened to crush the mind.
> [Warning: Progenitor-Class Entity Detected]
Name: Unrecorded
Status: Dormant – Potentially lethal if disturbed
Shadow Ring reacting…
The ring on Graxion's hand burned.
And then, the corpse opened its eyes.
Two glowing orbs—one blood red, the other pitch black.
> "You've come far… child of shadow," it spoke, voice echoing like a thousand whispers layered over time.
Graxion didn't flinch. "You're the First?"
> "The first mistake. The first sin. The first to drink… and the first to hunger."
Graxion stepped closer, ignoring the warnings in his mind.
> "What am I?" he asked. "Why did the shadow choose me?"
The Progenitor laughed—a sound that made the walls weep black ichor.
> "Because it feared the blood. And you… are a vessel made of defiance. A soul unclaimed. The perfect womb for power without purpose."
The throne shifted. The being stood—taller than any man, thin as a whisper, and yet… undeniable.
> "I had a name once. But now I am only a scar on the world. Still, I remember her. The one who split herself to seal the shadows. And I remember… the ring."
His gaze dropped to Graxion's hand.
> "You have broken the chain. That means He is coming."
> "Who?"
> "The one born of both. The boy who will make a throne of blood and command the night. The future."
Quinn.
The Progenitor raised a clawed finger and placed it on Graxion's forehead. Visions surged into him—battles under red skies, creatures of pure blood erupting from torn worlds, and a child in shadows, alone.
> "You have two paths, Shadowborn. Become the gatekeeper—or the storm."
A flash of light.
> [Skill Unlocked: Shadow Infusion – Progenitor Grade]
[Warning: Overuse may result in permanent detachment from reality.]
[New Objective: Prevent the Awakening of the False Progeny]
The Progenitor stepped back.
> "Your story is not over. But it may already be written."
Then, like a candle, the entity flickered out, vanishing into mist.
Graxion collapsed to one knee, panting.
He wasn't ready for this. But it no longer mattered.
Time was breaking. The future was bleeding into the past.
And Quinn Talen's destiny had just begun to echo through the bones of the dead.