Location: The Forgotten Quarter, Below Vireos | Time: 04:10 A.M.
Theo stared at her like he was seeing a ghost.
No, not a ghost, something worse. Something that bled into his memories and poisoned the edges of everything he thought he'd buried.
Sera, if that was even her real name, stood there, shaking, her face pale as her fingers traced the name he'd just said.
"Myren," she repeated, barely audible. "What… what is that?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Because how do you tell someone they were once divine?
How do you tell them they died at your hands?
"It's a name," he finally said. "From before."
"Before what?"
"Before all of this. Before you were you. Before I was… this."
Her lips parted, eyes darting like she was trying to put together pieces of a puzzle that didn't belong to her but still felt like they fit.
And maybe they did.
Because that was the thing about gods: they never truly died. They just waited. Hid in bones. In shadows. In broken timelines and rewritten names.
Far above them, the city cracked again.
Theo flinched and sensed it like a ripple in his blood. Another divine seal ruptured.
Something had been released.
And something else had noticed.
"Listen to me," he said, kneeling in front of her. "You don't remember now. But you will. And when you do, you're going to want to run. Don't."
Sera stared at him. "I'm not… I'm not anyone special. I had a normal life. A degree. A job. I don't "
He grabbed her wrist not hard, but firm. Her skin shimmered faintly, just for a second, like light bending around something ancient. Her pulse stuttered. So did his.
"I used to say that, too," he murmured. "Right before I tore a hole through a city for breathing wrong."
She blinked. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying the thing inside you isn't dormant anymore. It's waking up. And when it does, the gods that fell will come looking for you. Some will want to kill you. Others…" His jaw clenched. "Others will want to use you."
"Like her?" she asked. "Your sister?"
He didn't answer.
Suddenly, a shriek echoed through the tunnels. Not human. Not even close.
Theo shoved Sera behind him as three figures emerged from the darkness.
More Warspawn.
These ones were different, sleeker, faster. Their obsidian armor burned with cracks of blue fire.
"Fast evolution," Theo muttered. "Whoever's summoning them is getting stronger."
One lunged forward.
Theo met it mid-air.
Steel clanged as Theo's fist collided with its faceplate, shattering it on impact. He spun, slammed his elbow into the second, ducked the third, and then stopped holding back.
He lifted his hand. The shadows obeyed.
A blade of pure void slipped from his palm serrated, curved, humming with his true nature.
The Blade of War. His original weapon. His divine signature.
He hadn't summoned it in years.
The Warspawn paused. Recognized it.
Too late.
In three breaths, he carved through all of them.
No blood. Just ash and sparks.
Sera stared, frozen.
"That… that was " she started, but her voice failed.
"Not the worst of what I can do," Theo said, panting. "Not even close."
She took a step back. "You… You were going to kill me before, weren't you? Back then. In the dream."
He didn't lie. "Yes."
"Why didn't you?"
"I couldn't."
"Why?"
He stared at her for a long, aching moment.
"Because I loved you."
She looked away, shaking. "That doesn't make sense. You don't know me."
"I knew the version of you that tried to stop a war I was too broken to walk away from."
She looked at him again. "Did I win?"
"No," he said quietly. "You died."
A silence so thick it choked them both.
From somewhere deeper in the tunnel, another tremor rolled through. Theo turned toward it, jaw set.
"They're coming faster now," he said. "It's not just you waking up. The city's fractures are spreading."
Sera looked at him, afraid but resolute. "What do we do?"
Theo narrowed his eyes at the dark ahead.
"We find the one summoning them. And we stop them before they wake another god."
"And if they already did?"
"Then we kill them again."
Location: The Lower Veins, Inner Tunnels of Old Vireos
The flame-wall roared like it was breathing.
Theo shoved Sera behind him, raising his blade. It flickered in response to the ancient symbols etched into the air glyphs written in a divine dialect long erased from mortal tongues.
"Stay back," he muttered.
Sera didn't argue this time. Her eyes locked on the figure stepping forward through the fire. A boy no older than seventeen by appearance. But appearances meant nothing when gods were involved.
His skin was pale gold, veined with cracks of searing light. His eyes burned brighter than the flame behind him, and when he blinked, the world trembled for a heartbeat.
He looked at Theo like he knew every version of him.
"Father," he said again.
Theo's blade dropped a fraction.
"No," he said, shaking his head. "No. That's not possible."
"You made me," the boy said.
"I don't " Theo's breath caught. "I don't create."
"You did once. In the height of the War, when you were losing everything when even Myren turned against you, you carved a god from your own soul."
"I buried that truth," Theo whispered.
The boy smiled, and the tunnel darkened, like the flame bowed to his presence.
"You buried me."
Sera clutched the scroll tighter, her knuckles white. "What is he talking about?"
Theo didn't move. Couldn't. The weight of the boy's presence settled across his bones like chains.
"They said you died," Theo muttered. "That the creation failed."
"They were wrong. You locked me away to protect the world from what I would become."
"You were unstable."
"I was angry. Just like you."
His eyes sparked. "But now I'm awake. And I want to know why you left me."
Sera stepped forward. "He's not your "
"I am his," the boy snapped, and the flame surged up the walls like a wave.
Theo's hand shot out in front of her. The flame bent away, avoiding him like it remembered its maker.
He looked at the boy. "You're not a god. You're a weapon."
"I was both," the boy said softly. "Until you made me choose."
Theo felt the past crashing in memories of a dying battlefield, of screaming skies, of a desperate ritual in a collapsing temple where he pulled a shard of his own divinity out to shape a new protector. A son.
Only… he hadn't been strong enough to finish it. Or maybe, deep down, he was afraid to.
He'd buried the result in a memory-locked vault.
And now, it was standing in front of him.
"I'm not your enemy," the boy said, taking a slow step forward. "But there are others. Old ones. Gods who want you dead."
"Old gods are dead," Theo growled.
"Not all," the boy said. "One is coming back. The one they called The End-Tongue. The god of endings. The eater of realms. You remember him."
Theo's pulse stilled.
Of course he remembered.
"You can stop him," the boy said. "But you need me."
"I don't need anyone."
"Then you'll die alone." He paused. "Again."
Theo's grip on his blade tightened.
"You think I'll trust a weapon I discarded?" he said.
The boy's gold eyes dimmed just slightly.
"I didn't come here to fight you," he said. "I came here to save her."
He pointed at Sera.
And suddenly Sera collapsed.
Theo caught her before she hit the stone. Her body trembled, eyes wide and glassy. She wasn't speaking but something was speaking through her.
Her voice layered echoing like two souls trying to talk at once.
"Name… the name is not Sera," she gasped. "I… I remember the temple. The fall. The blood "
"Don't move," Theo said, cradling her.
"Myren," the boy whispered. "She's waking up."
"She's not ready," Theo barked.
"She doesn't have a choice," the boy said. "None of us do."
The tunnel lit with new fire behind the boy, a second presence stirred. Something massive. Wrong.
The wall behind him ripped open.
A void beyond it. A rift in reality.
And from the shadows, a figure stepped through.
Tall. Robed in silken decay. A mouth covered in endless runes.
Theo stood slowly, the scroll forgotten beside him.
"Oh no," he said. "No, no, no…"
The boy whispered: "It's him. The End-Tongue. He's found her."
The figure pointed at Sera and the tunnel screamed.