The footsteps stopped at the bottom of the stairs.
Aerich could hear them clearly now—slow, deliberate, like whoever was walking didn't need to rush. Like time itself would wait for them.
His mother stood up slowly, placing herself between Aerich and the staircase without even looking back. Her shoulders were tense, but her voice—when she spoke—was steady in a way that scared him more than panic ever could.
"Stay behind me," she said.
"Mom," Aerich whispered, "you're shaking."
"I know."
The hum in Aerich's chest deepened, vibrating through his ribs. The spiral beneath his skin pulsed once, twice, like a warning heartbeat.
From below, a voice echoed upward.
"Liora Kaven," it called calmly. "It has been a long time."
Aerich stiffened. They knew her name.
His mother closed her eyes briefly, then opened them, resolve hardening in her gaze. "I told you," she said aloud. "If this day came, you were not to enter my home uninvited."
A soft chuckle answered her.
"You always were stubborn."
Footsteps resumed, climbing the stairs now. The air grew colder with every step. The lights along the hallway flickered, dimming to a dull, sickly glow.
Aerich's instincts screamed again, louder than before. Not just danger—judgment. Like he was about to be weighed and measured.
Three figures emerged at the top of the stairs.
They looked human.
That was the problem.
Two men and a woman, all dressed in dark coats that seemed to swallow the light around them. Their faces were calm, expressionless, eyes sharp and unsettlingly focused. Symbols—etched in faint silver thread—lined their collars and cuffs. When Aerich looked at those symbols too long, his vision blurred, like his eyes refused to understand them.
The woman stepped forward first.
"Aerich Kaven," she said. "You have awakened."
The words hit harder than any shout.
Aerich clenched his fists. "You don't get to say my name like that."
The man on the left raised an eyebrow, mildly amused. "He has spirit."
"Or fear," the other replied. "They often look similar at first."
The woman lifted a hand, silencing them. Her gaze never left Aerich. "I am Sereth. These are Watchers of the Veil. And tonight, you crossed a boundary that cannot be uncrossed."
Aerich felt his chest burn. "I didn't do anything!"
The spiral flared faintly in response, betraying him.
Sereth's eyes flicked briefly to his chest, and something like satisfaction crossed her face. "Your power disagrees."
His mother stepped forward. "Enough. He is a child."
"Was," Sereth corrected gently. "Until the Veil responded to him."
Aerich swallowed. "What is the Veil?"
Silence stretched for a moment. Then the man on the right spoke.
"The Veil is mercy," he said. "And a prison."
Sereth continued, "It is the barrier that keeps your world stable. It separates humanity from things that would tear reality apart if given freedom."
Aerich thought of the shadow in the hallway. The voice in his head. The pain.
"And I just… poked a hole in it?" he asked quietly.
Sereth nodded once. "Yes."
The word felt heavy. Final.
His mother's voice broke. "It wasn't supposed to happen like this. The seal was intact."
"It weakened," Sereth replied. "As all seals eventually do."
Aerich's stomach dropped. "Seal?"
The man on the left stepped closer, studying him openly now. "Inside you," he said, "is a locked core. Ancient. Dangerous. Tonight, it stirred."
Aerich backed up a step. "You're talking about me like I'm a bomb."
"Because you are," the man said calmly.
The hum surged violently.
The lights burst.
Glass shattered as every bulb along the hallway exploded at once, plunging the space into darkness. Aerich cried out, clutching his chest as the pressure spiked, raw and overwhelming.
"Enough!" his mother shouted. "You're provoking it!"
Sereth raised her hand sharply. The pressure eased, though the hum didn't vanish completely.
"Apologies," Sereth said, though her tone held no guilt. "We needed to see how it reacts."
Aerich stared at her in disbelief. "You did that on purpose?"
"Yes."
Anger flared hot and fast. "You don't get to test me!"
The shadows along the walls rippled, responding to his emotion. The Watchers stiffened instantly.
"Control," Sereth warned. "Now."
Aerich's breath came fast. He focused—somehow—on pulling the feeling inward, compressing it. The shadows settled reluctantly.
Sereth exhaled slowly. "Impressive. He hasn't been trained."
"Or broken," the other man muttered.
Aerich laughed bitterly. "Give it time, right?"
Sereth ignored the comment. "Your awakening has already been noticed. Not just by us."
A chill ran down his spine. "Noticed by who?"
She met his eyes directly. "By what hunts Veilborn."
The word echoed in his head. Veilborn.
"What does that mean?" he asked.
"It means you were never meant to be ordinary," Sereth said. "You were born aligned to the Veil itself. A living key. Or a living breach."
His mother whispered, "I tried to hide him."
"And you succeeded," Sereth replied. "For fifteen years. That is longer than most."
Aerich felt sick. "Most of what?"
Before anyone could answer, the hum shifted—changed pitch. Lower. More aggressive.
The Watchers reacted instantly, stepping into defensive positions.
Sereth's eyes snapped toward the far end of the hallway. "It's too soon."
The air warped.
A裂 tore open near the ceiling, smaller than the one in Aerich's room—but more stable. Dark mist spilled out, accompanied by a low, hungry growl.
"Behind me," Sereth commanded.
Aerich didn't move.
The creature that emerged wasn't shadow this time. It had mass—twisted limbs, cracked bone-like armor, a face that looked half-melted, half-forgotten.
The hum roared.
Aerich felt something inside him reach.
"No," his mother cried. "Aerich, don't—!"
The creature lunged.
Time slowed.
Aerich raised his hand without thinking.
The world bent.
The creature froze mid-air, its form trembling as invisible pressure crushed inward. Light flared from Aerich's chest, white threaded with black veins.
The Watchers stared.
Aerich screamed as pain ripped through him—but he didn't stop.
The creature collapsed in on itself, folding, compressing, until it imploded into nothing but ash and silence.
The rift snapped shut.
Aerich dropped to the floor, gasping, vision spinning.
Silence followed. Heavy. Absolute.
Sereth finally spoke, her voice low.
"…So it's true."
The man beside her whispered, "Azhreth."
Aerich barely heard them. His chest burned like fire and ice combined. He looked up weakly. "I didn't mean to."
Sereth knelt in front of him, eyes unreadable. "You absorbed it," she said. "Not destroyed. Not banished."
Aerich frowned. "Absorbed… what?"
She met his gaze.
"The creature's power."
His mother covered her mouth in horror.
Sereth stood slowly.
"There is no doubt now," she said. "The seal is not just weakening."
She looked down at Aerich, something close to fear finally breaking through her calm.
"It is choosing you."