That night, Coker couldn't close his eyes. Not because he feared anything, not anymore, but because of something worse than fear. Silence. The kind of silence that wraps itself around your neck and whispers the names you've forgotten. The kind that digs up memories you buried because they hurt too much. He sat at the edge of a cliff near the outer edge of the beast academy, legs hanging over the abyss where stars had drowned. Above him, the sky shimmered like wet ink and below him was only black, stretching endlessly like the mouth of something old. His mind wasn't quiet. His heart wasn't still. Something was awake inside him and it had stopped pretending to sleep.
No one at the academy dared speak to him now. The arena had changed that. Some stared like he was a mistake that shouldn't be breathing. Some bowed as if he had become a king. Some just walked away without meeting his eyes. He didn't blame them. What they had seen that day wasn't human. Not entirely. Not anymore.
Master Helran hadn't returned. They said he was recovering. But Coker could feel it in his bones—he was afraid. Helran had touched something forbidden when he tried to suppress Coker's beast. And now that thing was watching. Waiting. Hungering.
Coker pulled his knees close and stared into the dark. He thought of the chains in his dreams. He thought of the silence that sometimes screamed louder than voices. And then it came again. Not a voice in his head. Not a hallucination. Something deeper. Beneath the soul. Beneath even the curse.
It spoke.
Not in sound, but in knowing.
It asked him if he was ready to understand.
He didn't answer right away. How do you answer a question that tastes like destiny?
He said yes.
The world cracked.
The cliff was gone.
He was standing in a place so old that even shadows seemed too young to belong. It looked like a hallway built by forgotten gods. Pillars twisted like bones rising toward a ceiling choked in rusted chains. Mist crept across the floor, thick and breathing, wrapping around his ankles like it knew his name before he did. There was no warmth here. No cold either. Just presence. The kind that watches without eyes.
And at the end of the hallway stood a mirror.
It was taller than towers. Its glass didn't reflect him. It reflected what he carried. What had been sealed. What was always waiting. His steps were slow. Every footstep sounded like a heartbeat. The mirror's surface rippled like water disturbed by memory. He stood before it.
And he saw not himself, but something else.
It had his body's shape but not his soul. A creature made of ash and silence. Its eyes were like silver flames, and horns curled from its skull like crowned punishment. It bore scars where names had once been. Names that had been scratched off. Erased. Forgotten on purpose. It did not roar. It did not blink. It reached toward him with something worse than claws. Truth.
You were never nameless.
That was what it said. Not with words. With knowing.
You were hidden. I was hidden. For a reason.
He wanted to scream, but his throat wouldn't open. His chest hurt. His bones shook. The mirror began to crack. Lightning danced across the glass in jagged silence. And then a name burned itself across the surface. Carved with invisible fire. He didn't want to read it. But his eyes betrayed him.
The name was Vorakh.
It wasn't just a name.
It was a curse. A crown. A throne made of silence.
Coker collapsed to his knees.
The thing inside him smiled.
Not cruelly.
More like relief. Like a prisoner finally breathing air.
You are not just my host.
You are my heir.
The chains above began to rattle. The pillars trembled. The mist turned red like memory bleeding. The world shook. And in a blink, he was back in reality. But he was falling. The cliff was behind him now. Gravity was dragging him into the mouth of the earth.
He did not hit the ground.
The shadows caught him.
No. Not shadows.
Vorakh.
It rose like a beast born from all the nightmares men feared to name. Horned, cloaked in smoke, eyes that remembered death and silence. It hovered in the air, cradling him like a child.
It spoke.
Not in fear.
Not in pride.
But in truth.
You are not E-rank.
Coker looked up, eyes silver, hair wild, soul heavy but awake for the first time.
He said no.
I never was.