Kade stood at the cathedral doors, shoulders heaving, staring down four figures who looked like they'd walked straight out of a nightmare—and owned it.
Veyne leaned lazily against a cracked pillar, hands in his jacket pockets like this was just a school trip. The other three? Dead silent. Watching.
The white-haired girl adjusted her blindfold.
"I thought we weren't recruiting anyone lower than Class B," she said coolly, voice soft but firm. "He's barely a Veilborn."
"He passed the Cathedral of Screams," Veyne shrugged. "Without formal training. No ID. No clue what he's doing. That's either suicidal… or special."
The silver-eyed boy with the cybernetic arm sniffed the air. "He smells like shattered lineage. Something old. Maybe forgotten."
The giant man with the coffin didn't speak.
He just tilted his head—and the coffin on his back shifted. Something inside thumped once, like it was alive.
Kade felt the chill snake down his spine.
"Okay," he said slowly, "someone explain what the hell is going on. Who are you people?"
Veyne smirked. "Welcome to your second curse, newbie. You survived the trial, got Classed, and now the Veil owns a piece of you. That means one of three things happens next…"
He raised a finger. "One, you wander alone, no allies, no guidance, and die in a week."
A second finger. "Two, the Wardens find you, wipe your memory, and send you back to the world thinking it was all a dream—if you're lucky."
Then a third. "Three... you join a Faction. Like us."
Kade blinked. "The Broken Dawn."
The blindfolded girl nodded once. "We are one of the Nine Hidden Factions. Veilborn who rejected the official hierarchy. Outlaws. Hunters. Survivors."
"And murderers," the boy with the cybernetic arm added with a smirk. "Don't forget that."
Kade's eyes narrowed. "Why would I join a bunch of psychopaths?"
Veyne stepped closer.
"Because, Kade, the Veil doesn't care if you want to be a hero. Or a good guy. Or even normal. If you want to survive what's coming—what's already here—you'll need power. And no one survives long without a faction."
"And what if I choose option one?" Kade asked.
The girl responded. "Then you'll die."
The coffin-man thumped his knuckles on the wood strapped to his back. The lid cracked open slightly. A blackened hand, decayed and smoking, reached out—before slowly retreating.
Kade stared at it.
"...You guys are seriously messed up."
"Thank you," Veyne said, bowing dramatically.
"But you're not wrong," Kade added. "I need answers. Power. A way to stay alive. So if joining you gives me a shot at figuring out what's happening to me—"
The silver-eyed boy cut in. "Then prove it."
"What?"
"The Broken Dawn doesn't take weaklings. You want in, you fight."
He stepped forward, cracking his neck. The plates on his mechanical arm shifted, glowing with red runes.
"I'm Ark. Class C. Weapon Affinity. Let's see if you're worth bleeding for."
Veyne clapped his hands. "Ah, initiation time! This'll be fun."
Kade took a deep breath. His body was still aching. His clothes torn. But the black sword from before hummed back into existence in his hand—responding not to logic, but to need.
He pointed it at Ark. "Fine. Let's dance, metalhead."
---
Meanwhile…
Far from the cathedral, in the realm between realms known only as the Veil Core, a voice whispered across the spirals of time.
"She's found him," it murmured.
Another voice replied—this one layered, like a choir of dying gods.
"Then the clock turns again. Prepare the Pale Queen. The last Fragment walks once more."
---
End of Chapter 7