Season 2, Episode 1: The Throne of Wolves
The world had changed. Ren could feel it—not just in the way the air tasted like ash or how the sky bled violet with every sunrise—but in the silence that followed him. Like the world itself feared to speak his name.
He emerged from the shattered Trial Gate, cloaked in blood and cinders. His eyes, once human, now shimmered with a pale blue light, like the dying moon before it vanished at dawn. The mark of the Divine Learner still pulsed along his forearm, glowing faintly, throbbing with a new rhythm. Something inside him had changed in that hell.
Ren had killed three hundred souls in that trial.
And not all of them deserved it.
His hands wouldn't stop shaking. Not from fear. From hunger.
Not the kind that food could satisfy.
He dragged his feet through the forest bordering the outskirts of the Kingdom of Veyra. His companions—Lyra, Theron, and Kael—followed at a distance. None of them spoke. None dared.
The silence screamed louder than words.
Finally, Lyra stepped beside him, her eyes searching his.
"You're not him anymore."
Ren didn't answer.
She didn't ask again.
---
The group stumbled into a ruined watchtower before dusk. Kael collapsed against the wall, clutching his ribs. The blade wound still hadn't closed, despite three healing attempts. Theron sat by the crumbled hearth, tracing the blade of his axe with a cloth, but his eyes never left Ren.
"I need to scout," Lyra said, pulling her hood up.
"No," Ren replied, his voice colder than steel. "We move at dawn. You're not splitting from the group."
She tensed. "You don't give me orders."
Ren's eyes locked onto hers.
"I do now."
A silence passed between them, thicker than the smoke still clinging to their clothes. Then Lyra turned, walking to the edge of the room, her hand twitching toward the hidden dagger beneath her cloak.
Ren had noticed. He just didn't care.
---
That night, the fever came.
Ren collapsed in the corner, convulsing as the divine mark on his arm burst with golden fire. He screamed—an inhuman noise that shook the tower to its bones.
Kael rushed to help but was thrown back by an invisible force. Sparks flew from Ren's eyes, and ancient glyphs spiraled around him in mid-air.
"Don't touch him!" Lyra shouted. "It's a skill evolution!"
Theron's brows furrowed. "What the hell kind of evolution burns the soul?"
Ren's voice cracked through the air, echoing with two—no, three—tones.
> "Divine Learner recognizes consumed skills: [Blood Barrier], [Bone Manipulation], [Soul Flay]... 20 total identified."
> "Merging protocol initiated... Skill fusion: 20:1 ratio achieved."
> "New skill created: [God-Eater: Variant Alpha]."
The glyphs collapsed into his chest with a sound like breaking chains.
Then silence.
Ren gasped.
And smiled.
---
By dawn, he stood taller, straighter. The madness in his eyes no longer trembled.
"I need to find the Warlord of Veyra," he said calmly. "And then I'll kill him."
Kael choked. "Are you insane? Veyra is a fortress. It's ruled by one of the Seven! We're not ready—"
"I am."
Theron grunted. "He's right. With that kind of power... we don't need to wait."
Lyra hesitated. Her hand touched the edge of a scroll hidden inside her tunic—the one bearing the seal of the Church. Her orders hadn't changed.
Ren must die before the first throne falls.
---
Veyra loomed like a wound in the earth, its black stone spires jutting into the sky like broken spears. Smoke drifted from its walls—constant forges, constant preparation. The city was both kingdom and weapon.
As they approached the outer slums, Ren noted the eyes watching from the shadows. Hushed whispers. Children with missing fingers. Men with broken symbols branded on their necks.
Slaves of the war economy.
"Let me speak to the underground," Lyra offered. "I know how Veyra works."
Ren nodded, but his gaze lingered.
"You have one hour."
---
Inside the slums, Lyra met with a contact—a boy no older than twelve who led her to an old wine cellar. There, a woman waited. Her face was veiled, but her aura reeked of danger.
"You walk with the Chosen Star," the woman said.
Lyra's blood froze. "How do you know that name?"
"Because the Church paid dearly to create him."
---
Ren sat in the dark, meditating, when the memory came.
He stood beneath a black sun. A voice whispered through the void.
> "You are incomplete."
> "To become God-Eater, you must devour more than skills."
> "Devour meaning. Devour fate."
He woke with a jolt. Blood had dripped from his nose onto the floor. Kael stared at him, eyes wide with fear.
"You were... chanting in your sleep."
Ren didn't respond.
He walked to the edge of the tower.
The sun was rising.
Veyra would burn.