The ground beneath Kael pulsed with a heartbeat that wasn't his own.
He lay on his back, staring up at a sky unlike anything he had ever seen—black, cracked with red lightning, and filled with floating fragments of broken worlds. Gravity here was strange. Time felt twisted. He blinked once and the clouds shifted backward. He blinked again, and the landscape ahead of him changed shape.
"I'm… still alive?"
The last thing he remembered was pain. A flash of white light. The sound of a little girl screaming. Then silence.
Now, he was here.
Wherever here was.
He staggered to his feet. The air buzzed with invisible static. Each breath felt sharp, metallic, like he was breathing in electricity. His skin tingled, and there were faint glowing lines along his arms—red, dim, pulsing like slow embers under his skin.
He wasn't in New Bastion anymore.
This place felt… older. Wrong. Alive.
Then he heard a voice.
"Still breathing? That's rare."
Kael spun around.
A figure sat cross-legged on a tall, jagged rock, tossing a small knife between his fingers. He looked to be in his twenties, with a sharp jaw, bronze skin, and piercing green eyes that didn't blink nearly enough. His black hair was tied back in a warrior's knot. Across his back was a massive weapon—something between a blade and a rifle.
"Who are you?" Kael asked, backing away.
"Name's Toran Vale. Been watching you twitch for an hour. Was starting to think you were just another Hollow husk." Toran stood up and jumped down from the rock with the grace of a cat. "Looks like you made it through."
"Through what?"
Toran gestured to the sky. "The Veil. The crossing. You died, didn't you?"
Kael hesitated. "I think so."
Toran smirked. "Then welcome to the Gravepath. The realm where the dead are reborn… if they're lucky."
Kael looked around. "Is this… another world?"
"Not quite." Toran walked past him, motioning for Kael to follow. "It's a fractured realm—created by the dimensional tears your people caused. This place connects to everything. Every reality, every timeline, every broken god and failed experiment. It's where monsters go to feed… and where fools like us are sent to find purpose."
---
As they walked, Kael saw more of the Gravepath—twisted landscapes of floating debris, broken towers, and endless cliffs. Strange creatures moved in the distance—some crawling on walls, others flying with wings made of smoke and bone.
"Why am I here?" Kael finally asked.
Toran stopped walking and turned to face him. His expression grew serious.
"Because something chose you. You died. But your soul didn't pass on. It was caught in the Garmon Vein—an energy stream that leaks from the rifts. It pulls certain people in. People with potential. You're what we call an Unformed Radiant."
"But I don't have any powers."
"Yet," Toran said. "They're buried inside you. But they only awaken under pressure. Pain. Purpose."
Kael frowned. "So what's the point? Why bring me here?"
Toran pointed to the sky. "Because something's coming. Something far worse than the beasts invading Earth. A force is rising—called the Sovereign Blight. They control the Riftspawn, the ones tearing your world apart. And if they break through the last seal between this place and the human realm… your world dies."
Kael stared, heart pounding. "You want me to fight them?"
Toran chuckled. "No. I want you to train. To survive. Then, maybe, you'll have a shot."
Kael clenched his fists. "I'm tired of being weak. I want to fight. I want to kill the monsters that slaughtered my people. I want to go back and protect the ones still alive."
"Then you need power," Toran said. "And power comes at a cost."
He tossed something at Kael.
Kael caught it—barely.
It was a worn pendant made of black stone, etched with strange runes. A flicker of light pulsed from its core.
"That's a Mark of Trial," Toran said. "Your first step. It'll lead you to the Hollow Shrine. There, you'll face a creature born of your fear. If you survive, your real training can begin."
"And if I don't?"
"Then you'll stay dead this time."
---
They reached the edge of a canyon that cut across the landscape like a scar. At the bottom sat a ruined temple carved from obsidian, glowing with crimson light. The walls were marked with clawed handprints, as if hundreds had tried to escape from within.
Toran placed a hand on Kael's shoulder.
"This trial isn't about killing. It's about awakening. It'll dig into your memories. Twist them. Feed off your guilt, fear, and failure."
Kael swallowed hard. "So I'm fighting… myself?"
"In a way," Toran said. "You want power? Prove you can face who you were, so you can become who you're meant to be."
Kael stared at the shrine.
"Why help me?" he asked quietly.
Toran's eyes softened. "Because once, someone helped me. And because I think… you might be the key to saving all of us."
Kael nodded.
Then he descended alone.
---
The interior of the shrine was suffocating. The walls pulsed like living tissue, and the air stank of rot and ozone. The pendant in Kael's hand glowed brighter as he moved deeper inside.
Whispers crawled along the walls—his voice, distorted, mocking.
> "You think you can be strong?" "You're nothing but a rat in the gutter." "You were born weak. You'll die weak."
He gritted his teeth and pressed forward.
At the heart of the shrine was a massive chamber. And waiting in the center was a creature wearing his face—but twisted. Taller. Crueler. Its eyes burned with red fire, and its mouth was stretched into a jagged grin.
> "You left them behind," the reflection snarled. "You saved one girl and abandoned everyone else. You're no hero. You're a coward pretending to matter."
Kael raised his fists.
"I may not be a hero," he said. "But I'm not running anymore."
The thing lunged.
---
The battle was brutal.
Kael fought with nothing but instinct, dodging wild blows and striking where he could. Every hit from the creature sent pain through his ribs. Every time he struck back, it laughed.
But the more he fought, the more something inside him stirred.
When the creature slashed across his chest, Kael roared—and a burst of red energy erupted from his body, hurling the monster backward.
He blinked in shock. His skin glowed, faint but real. Energy pulsed through his veins. He could feel it now—his own power, rising like fire.
The creature lunged again.
This time, Kael didn't dodge.
He moved forward, slamming his fist into its chest—and the explosion of light that followed shattered the entire room.
---
When Kael climbed out of the shrine, bruised and bleeding, Toran was waiting.
"Well?" the older warrior asked.
Kael smiled, just barely. "I lived."
Toran tossed him a flask of glowing blue liquid. "Then you've earned your path. From this point on, you'll train under me. We'll prepare you to face Riftspawn, Blightlords, and worse. But more importantly—we'll prepare you to lead."
"Lead?"
"There are others like you. Lost. Scattered across the Gravepath. You'll find them. Unite them. Because one day soon, we're going back. And when we do, we're not just fighting monsters."
Kael stood tall.
"We're taking Earth back."