To find the truth, Ethan must first understand the lies he was raised to believe.
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The fire crackled quietly as Ethan flipped through the book Juno had given him. The pages smelled of smoke and age. Notes lined every margin, scribbled in frantic handwriting. Some were in languages he didn't recognize—others were in symbols that pulsed faintly in his peripheral vision.
"You collect forbidden books often?" Ethan asked without looking up.
Juno shrugged from across the fire. "You don't survive out here without learning the things the Guild burns."
He paused on a page titled "The Nine Primordials". Beneath the heading were sketches of towering beasts—one wreathed in flame, another with antlers like black iron, one whose body was a swirling storm. At the center stood the largest of them, cloaked in shadows with eyes like stars.
"The Beast King…" Ethan whispered.
Juno nodded. "They say he was the first to rise when the Rifts opened. Some think the marks are fragments of his will… left behind after the Guild supposedly killed him."
Ethan leaned back. "And you believe that?"
"I believe the Guild fears what they can't control. They call us cursed. But if that mark on your hand really ties to a Primordial… you're more than a mistake. You're a weapon."
Ethan didn't respond. He stared into the fire, thoughts swirling. Juno was right—the Guild always preached that Riftmarks were signs of corruption, not power. That those marked had to be cleansed. But his mark hadn't harmed him. Not yet.
Still, he remembered the first time it flared—when his parents died.
The sound of tearing flesh. The gleam of blue light. The Beast's roar.
His fists clenched. "They covered it up. The Guild said my parents died in a Rift collapse. But I saw the beast. I heard it speak."
Juno looked at him, sharp. "What did it say?"
"It said… you are mine."
Silence.
Then she stood abruptly and walked to a corner of the hideout. She returned holding a tattered scroll sealed with wax. "You need to see this," she said, handing it over. "I found it in a collapsed Church outpost six years ago. Took me two months to translate."
Ethan unrolled it slowly.
At the top, it read:
"Report: Subject 019 - Beastmarked Child (Cross)"
His blood ran cold.
He read, his fingers trembling.
> "Subject displays partial resonance with Class-S Rift signatures. Exposure event involved known Primordial echo. Current recommendation: Termination. Potential awakening risk high."
"Location: Arx Province. Cover story issued. Parents silenced."
Ethan stared at the final line, ink faded but legible:
> "Do not allow the child to mature."
The scroll slipped from his hands.
Juno's voice was quiet. "They didn't just lie, Ethan. They tried to erase you."
He said nothing.
Inside, something cracked open.
Not anger—fury.
The mark on his hand flared blue, bright enough to light the cave. Juno stood quickly, hand on her dagger.
"Ethan. Control it."
He struggled to breathe. The mark felt like fire under his skin, like something inside was trying to wake up. Images flashed in his mind—his parents' faces, the Beast's eyes, the Church sigil painted in blood.
"I won't… let them bury me," he whispered.
The light faded. The mark dimmed.
Juno exhaled and lowered her weapon.
"You've got power, kid. But if you lose control again, the Rift won't just call to you. It'll open."
Ethan looked up. "Then teach me. Show me how to use it."
She stared at him a long moment, then nodded. "We start at dawn. But know this—if you want revenge, if you want truth, there's no going back. The Guild will hunt you. So will the Church. And if the Rift senses you…"
"I don't care," Ethan said.
He stood slowly, shadows dancing across his face.
"They should've finished the job."
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