SFX: Distant horns. Crumbling stone. A city screaming.
The sky over Eldren Keep bled crimson as the sun sank behind shattered battlements. Flames devoured the lower city, sending pillars of black smoke clawing toward the heavens. Beneath that dying sky, the sound of steel and screams merged into a single, unending howl.
A kingdom was ending.
Deep below the royal palace—far from torchlight and prayer—Orion Voss knelt upon cracked marble.
—SFX: Drip. Drip.
Blood fell from his palm, each drop sizzling faintly as it struck the ancient floor.
Thirteen concentric rings glimmered beneath him, carved into stone long before the current gods had names. Sigils of binding, sacrifice, and invocation pulsed with dim, hungry light. At the ritual's heart lay the catalyst—a shard of star-fallen crystal, its surface fractured like frozen lightning.
Orion's breath trembled.
His scholar's robes—once pristine—hung in tatters, soaked with soot and red. Sweat plastered dark hair to his brow. His hands shook not from pain, but from the weight of what he was about to do.
He was not a hero.
Not a warrior.
Not even a true mage.
He was a historian—a keeper of dead truths.
And he was the last man left.
The Kingdom of Aetheria had fallen by dawn.
The northern legions had poured through the gates.
The king was dead.
The guard butchered.
And Lira—
His sister's laughter echoed in his memory. The way she'd leaned over forbidden tomes beside him in the palace library. The warmth of her smile.
She'd been in the eastern tower when the siege began.
If the city fell completely… she would vanish into chains—or worse.
Orion clenched his bleeding hand.
"There is nothing left," he whispered, voice breaking against the chamber walls. "Nothing… except this."
The ancient texts had spoken of one final answer.
The Heroic Summoning.
A ritual abandoned by the gods themselves. One that demanded a perfect circle, a celestial catalyst—
—and the sacrifice of will.
—SFX: Runes igniting. A deep hum.
"The gods have abandoned us," Orion murmured. "So I will call something older."
He raised his arms.
The circle answered.
Symbols flared white, then gold, then blinding blue as dead words rolled from Orion's lips—ancient syllables he had studied but never believed would answer.
"By fallen starlight…
By willing blood…
I summon thee—
Champion eternal!
Descend! Bind thyself!
Save this world from devouring shadow!"
—SFX: WIND ROARING. STONE GROANING.
The air thickened.
The crystal shard vibrated violently, screaming with restrained power. Invisible pressure crushed down on the chamber like an ocean inverted.
Orion poured everything into the chant—his grief, his fear, his love.
The circle reached for his soul.
Then—
—SFX: CRACK.
The light twisted.
Blue flames curdled into violet, then drowned in black streaked with crimson. The crystal split cleanly in two, revealing not emptiness—but a void.
A nothingness that stared back.
Orion staggered. "That's—!"
A voice answered.
Not aloud.
Inside him.
Foolish mortal.
The words carried weight older than creation.
You seek a hero?
Orion's heart slammed against his ribs.
"There are no heroes left in the heavens," the voice continued.
Only hunger.
The darkness surged upward—a pillar of absolute absence devouring light itself.
Orion tried to flee.
The circle refused.
"I didn't call you!" he screamed. "I called for a champion!"
And a champion you shall have.
The void collapsed inward—
—and entered him.
—SFX: HEARTBEAT SHATTERING.
Agony tore through Orion's body. His soul was ripped apart and reforged in the same instant. His vision burned white, red, then drowned in black.
He saw dying worlds.
Stars consumed whole.
Titans feasting on galaxies—
—and at the center of it all…
A crimson eye.
Watching.
We are bound now, little scholar.
I am the Abyss.
The hunger between stars.
And you… are my vessel.
Something coiled around Orion's soul.
Cold. Vast. Eternal.
Power flooded him. Wounds sealed. Exhaustion vanished. Strength surged through every vein.
And with it—
Hunger.
Not for flesh.
For essence.
Orion collapsed as the presence withdrew just enough for him to breathe. The ritual circle lay dead. The crystal was gone.
Only a dim crimson glow pulsed beneath his chest.
—SFX: BOOTS. APPROACHING.
The invaders had arrived.
Orion rose.
The first barbarian burst into the chamber, axe raised—
Orion lifted his hand.
—SFX: VOID TEARING.
Black tendrils erupted from his palm, piercing the warrior's body. The man screamed as light—his soul—was ripped free and devoured.
The hunger eased.
The power deepened.
The corpse collapsed into dust.
More footsteps.
More prey.
Orion smiled.
It was not entirely his own.
Good, the Abyss purred.
Feed me. Grow strong. Save your sister…
Or consume the world trying.
Crimson light gathered around Orion's hand, forming the outline of a blade forged from nothingness itself.
The scholar was gone.
Something else stepped forward.
Something starving.