They met at the edge of the Ash Split—a canyon choked in red mist and broken stone.
The warlord arrived with twenty mercenaries clad in mismatched armor and eyes like cut glass. Her name was Vessra Coalmark, a sharp-featured woman with a jagged scar running from brow to cheekbone. She looked at Kael as if calculating the weight of his blood.
"You're the one with the compass," she said. "The boy chasing ghosts."
Kael didn't flinch. "I'm not chasing. I'm leading."
Vessra smirked. "Then lead us to something worth bleeding for."
Scene: A Pact in the Dust
In a ruined chapel, they spoke terms.
"You get safe passage through my territory," Vessra said. "We won't bleed your caravan dry or sell your outcasts. In return, you fight for us when needed."
"And protect your people if your petty border wars catch up," Kael added, eyes narrowed.
She didn't deny it.
Kael extended his hand. Her palm met his—and the Blood System flared.
New Trait Acquired: Blood Pact: Shared fate with Vessra's sworn unit. Damage shared. Loyalty tested.
The pain hit instantly.
Kael's blood recoiled, then rewove itself—threads binding unseen through the pact.
Scene: First Test — Bone Chain Grip
That night, bandits struck under cover of mist—silent, fast, and prepared for blood magic.
Kael moved before the scream finished.
His hand slammed into the earth and bone-chains erupted from the ground, white and sharp as teeth, lashing around two attackers and dragging them down.
Bone Chain Grip Activated.
Another charged from the side. Kael spun—and vanished.
Scene: Blood Pulse Dash
He reappeared behind the attacker in a blur of red lightning.
Blood Pulse Dash Activated — Heartbeat Velocity: 127 BPM.
One strike. Silence.
He stood still as the man crumpled. The Blood Core throbbed hungrily in his chest.
And then came the voice—Duran's voice, echoing from memory.
"Every time you use it, it wants more of you. The System isn't a gift, Kael. It's a slow-burning curse."
Kael exhaled. He looked down at his bloodied hands.
How much of myself have I already given?
Scene: Aftermath
Vessra approached, impressed. "You could win wars with that power."
Kael looked past her, toward the canyon ahead. The compass pulsed faintly.
"I'm not here to win wars," he said. "I'm trying not to become one."
•
The storm rolled in blood-red and slow.
Kael stood atop a ridge, cloak whipping in the wind, as the caravan beheld the gathering below—a makeshift encampment of rebels. Fires crackled. Hundreds listened with rapt attention as a tall, dark-robed figure raised his voice against the Blood Houses.
"For centuries, they drained us dry. Now, we bleed for ourselves. Now, we rise."
The crowd roared.
His eyes were pale crimson, unnaturally bright. His voice rang with power—not the kind forged in battle, but shaped in belief.
The Crimson Prophet.
Scene: A Dangerous Kinship
Later, by a dim fire, Kael spoke with him alone.
"You talk like you've seen the truth," Kael said, voice low. "But I've seen the truth too. It isn't as pretty."
The Prophet smiled gently. "Truth is never pretty. But it must be spoken. You carry a shard, don't you?"
Kael's body tensed. The Prophet's gaze deepened, as if seeing through Kael's ribs into the pulsing Blood Core beneath.
"I see the hunger in you," the Prophet murmured. "But you haven't let it hollow you. Not yet. That's rare."
Kael stepped back. "What do you want?"
The Prophet leaned in. "I want to break the cycle. Just like you."
For a moment—just a moment—Kael felt it.
A kinship. A mirror that didn't mock or tempt, but understood.
Scene: The Betrayal
The next night, chaos erupted.
Screams. Steel. Blood.
Kael burst from his tent to find one of his caravan guards—Ruvan, a quiet man with sharp eyes—plunging a blade into Tarren's side.
"No!" Kael shouted, rushing forward.
Ruvan turned, blood dripping from his hands. "You led us into a trap."
Kael tackled him. Fist met flesh. Bone cracked.
From the shadows, rebel soldiers emerged, weapons drawn. "Take the shard," one hissed.
The Prophet appeared—but did nothing.
Kael stared at him, fury in his voice. "You said you wanted to break the cycle."
"I do," the Prophet replied. "But some cycles must first complete."
Kael's Core burned.
Loyalty fractured.
System instability: Blood Echo response imminent.
Scene: The Choice
Kael turned to his group—scattered, wounded, surrounded.
He could fight. Maybe win.
But the price…
He clenched his fist, calling the Blood Core deep into himself.
"No more blind loyalty," he said. "Not to prophets. Not to ghosts."
A crimson pulse exploded from his chest—Blood Echo Surge—sending attackers flying.
He grabbed Tarren's bleeding body, barked orders, and cut a path through the rebels.
They fled into the night.
Final Scene: The Prophet Watches
From the ridge, the Prophet watched Kael vanish into the mist.
He smiled faintly.
"You will return. When you're ready to be more than mortal."