Far away from the scarred clearing where Akin had awakened, across broken mountains and endless cursed plains, the grand city of Empheria stood proud — the last shining beacon of humanity in this crumbling world.
But tonight, that brilliance flickered.
Inside the ivory halls of the Royal Palace, alarms blared — a deep, resonant gong that hadn't sounded in decades.
The King's Council had gathered in haste, their ceremonial robes thrown on in disarray. The throne room, usually a place of calculated grace, now buzzed with fearful whispers.
The massive doors slammed open as the High Mage of Empheria stumbled into the chamber, his breath ragged, his face drained of color.
"My King!" he gasped, falling to one knee. "It is the Cursed Land. Something... something impossible has happened."
King Aldrich, ruler of Empheria and conqueror of a dozen fiefdoms, rose slowly from his golden throne. His gaze was sharp, cold.
"Speak, High Mage," he commanded.
The mage swallowed thickly.
"The ancient curse energy — the blight that sealed Elarian centuries ago — it is gone."
The chamber fell into stunned silence.
The King's face darkened. His heavy golden staff struck the marble floor with a thunderous crack.
"Gone?!" he thundered. "Explain yourself!"
The mages and seers murmured in terror among themselves. Even the veterans, those who had witnessed dark miracles, could not mask their horror.
An elderly seer — blind, her face a network of ancient tattoos — hobbled forward, her voice a rasping whisper.
"It has not simply vanished," she said. "It has been claimed. Absorbed. By a being... not of our world."
The King stiffened.
"Which kingdom dares tamper with the relics of the Cursed Land?"
The High Mage shook his head, trembling.
"No kingdom known to us, my liege. This is... something new."
For a long moment, the King said nothing, his mind whirring with a thousand possibilities.
Finally, he spoke — his voice like the rumble of an oncoming storm.
"Summon the War Council. Mobilize the Seeker Squadrons. If a new power rises... we must crush it before it grows fangs."
A heavy dread settled over the palace like a suffocating blanket.
"A storm is coming," the King murmured to himself. "And if we do not move swiftly... it will drown us all."
Meanwhile: Back in the Cursed Land
Akin stepped through the shimmering portal, finding himself once again in the dense, mist-choked forest where he had first crash-landed.
The familiar heavy air pressed against his skin — but now, it felt different.
It felt like home.
The dagger at his side hummed with contained energy, eager for battle. His body thrummed with unspent power, the storm of Nexis raging silently inside him.
"Alright," he muttered, stretching his arms. "Time to see what this new me can really do."
He picked a boulder the size of a carriage and walked toward it.
One clean slash of the dagger — and the stone split in half with a deafening crack, the cut so smooth it gleamed under the pale light.
Akin laughed in delight.
Next, he focused on speed.
Crouching low, he launched himself forward — blurring like a shadow across the clearing, the wind howling in his wake.
"Faster than I thought..." he whispered, stunned.
Then he tried teleportation again, warping short distances between the trees, each jump smoother and faster than before.
The portal energy burned bright inside him, limitless — like a second heart.
But amid his exhilaration, a whisper stirred in his mind — the deity's voice, grim and warning.
"Power is a blade, Akin. Without skill, it cuts the wielder first."
Akin slowed, breathing hard, the weight of those words settling on him.
"I need to train," he muttered. "Strength without control... is suicide."
He remembered all the stories, the heroes who burned too brightly and died too young. He refused to be another name forgotten by history.
Sitting cross-legged beneath a blackened, ancient tree, Akin closed his eyes and meditated, letting the aura within him flow naturally.
Hours passed.
The mist grew thicker. The forest darker.
And somewhere beyond the treeline... something watched him.
Yellow eyes gleamed in the shadows — massive, unblinking. A low, almost inaudible growl rumbled across the ground.
The air grew colder.
The entity that stirred had felt the awakening of Nexis — and unlike mortal kings and cowardly mages, it did not fear the new power.
It hungered for it.
The trees themselves seemed to recoil as the presence slithered closer.
Still unaware of the creeping danger, Akin's aura suddenly flared — instinctively sensing the threat. His eyes snapped open, heart pounding.
"I'm not alone anymore..." he whispered, rising to his feet, the dagger already glowing in his grip.
The hunt had begun.
And Akin, whether ready or not, would have to face the first challenger to his reign over Elarian.