In Borderlands of Humania, most people—the unblessed, huddled on the dirty outskirts. Over them, Sanctum's walls glowed with special brilliance, particularly where the Blessed gathered called Cael'Areth
The lights outside the block flashed uncertainly as though in a struggle to stay lit, barely piercing the rain-soaked night fog. Kael Siroth trudged on, head low, with the weight of another bitter, long shift accumulating on his shoulders.
He wasn't a fighter. He wasn't Blessed. Just a regular guy.
More of a corpse-hauler. One of the unfortunate ones who brought demon corpses back to the research camps. Open them up, remove the cores. Researchers probed and experimented. Tinkers converted them into trinkets.
Yes, it was a filthy job—blood and rot everywhere. But, it paid the bills. Just enough to scrape by.
At times, though, it worsened.
They occasionally used him as bait.
March into danger, wave your arms wildly, create a distraction for the real fighters.
Kael had played it more often than he could count.
He did it all for Lira.
Her deathly white face haunted him. In that bed, lying there, alive still—but hardly. She had not uttered a single word, nor made one movement, since the Nexsomia gripped her. Eyes clamped shut.
(A foul curse brought about by fear and demonic power)
There was one last hope, one precious relic—All Cure—rumored to lift the curse.
But it was more than even Kael could ever possibly repay.
Unless, that is, he was willing to gamble everything.
Again.
The posting of the bounty fairly shouted danger and desperation. He ripped a contract off the wall—another "bait job." This was too familiar.
Continue to entice the demon out. Prepare to die first if you have to.
This one was led by a Blessed named Rezak. Flicker-class. Boaster. He was arrogant enough to think he was some kind of big deal just because he was "chosen."
His sword hummed softly with power, and he loved showing it off.
He was accompanied by two other Blessed—Cyrin, a reticent archer with moon-pale eyes, and Vael, a brawler with charred runes emblazoned upon his fists.
They sets off for the hunt,
"Hold it, dead weight," Rezak growled as they trudged along through the foggy swamp. "Yell nice and loud when it bites, all of you, okay? Don't interfere with my timing."
Cyrin rolled his eyes. Vael merely laughed.
Kael remained silent.
The work was compensated by five silver. Enough to cover Lira's medicine for another week.
The bones rose above the mist, like jagged teeth. They stopped in front of a broken arch.
"Come on, worm," Rezak told him, offering Kael a broken spear. "Flail your arms, shout loudly, and don't get blood on my boots."
Kael had heard it all before.
And still he nodded… and disappeared in the fog.
It was too quiet.
Then—wet breath. A growl that should not have been.
The demon emerged from the shadows. All razor limbs and cold eyes, stitched together like a horror.
Kael halted.
His legs yearned to run.
But he didn't.
He recalled Lira. Her unclenched hand in his. The days that she would never see.
He shouted—and struck.
The spear pierced into its eye. A glancing blow. But sufficient to infuriate the creature.
It growled. And bit.
Kael turned.
He braced for Rezak's sword, Cyrin's arrows, Vael's fist—anything.
But there was nothing.
He turned around to see ….everyone running
Betraying him.
He felt rage, and extreme anger, but
He spun around too slowly. The demon's claw whipped him across the floor.
His chest ached. His ribs split. His eyes blinded.
Lying there, dying, Kael thought:
If only I were Blessed.
If I were just strong enough.
Then—something snapped.
Not a bone.
Reality.
The air, compressed, folding inward as if the world had breathed.
There was a second heartbeat in his chest—slow, reflective, not his own.
And out of the silence. a voice.
Not loud. Not warm. Just there.
"Still Breathing."'
The ground trembled.
The sigil wrapped around his ribs—not tight, but warm. It didn't restrain. It moved.
The sigil sliced its way through his skin, serrated and pulsing like a wound made of starlight. Not divine. Not demonic. Not human.
Kael gagged, choking on blood—but he got up.
The mist dispersed.
The demon paused.
Kael's eyes shone with a light that was not his.
Behind it all… something was watching.
And though it spoke no more, he felt it—
A presence older than stars.