The darkness in the Underdeep was unlike anything Kael had known.It didn't simply obscure—it devoured. Sound was dulled. Time stretched. The air hung thick with memory.
Kael limped forward, one hand pressed to his ribs, the other gripping the half-shattered sword he'd carried since Cresthold.
Every step echoed too long.
Then the whispers began.
Soft. Slithering. In a language he didn't recognize… yet somehow understood.
"Marked one……Child of the Blood……Echo of the Forsaken…"
His sigil pulsed in response. Not in pain, but recognition.
He wasn't the first to walk these halls.
The cavern opened into a cathedral of stone, older than any kingdom above.
Massive pillars lined the walls, each etched with carvings of gods long forgotten—not the ones worshipped by the modern world, but primordial deities—half-beast, half-starlight. Their eyes glowed faintly in the gloom.
Kael approached the central altar.
It was cracked, soaked with dried blood, and crowned with a strange artifact:a helmet of blackened silver, fused with bone.
When his fingers touched it, the Underdeep responded.
A flood of visions struck him—
A child, screaming as he's dragged from a noble hall.A goddess, caged in chains of star-metal, her eyes hollowed by betrayal.A city, falling into the sea, devoured by its own god.And at the center of it all—a man with Kael's face,...but eyes made of flame.
Kael stumbled back, gasping.
The helmet clattered to the floor—but something in him had changed.
He now understood the Mark better. It wasn't just a curse. It was a fragment of something divine. Something old.A forgotten lineage of god-binders—mortals who once served as bridges between the divine and the doomed.
He was heir to it.
And the Cult… feared it.
A low growl echoed through the cathedral.
Kael froze.
Something ancient was stirring.
From the far end of the hall, a beast of shadow emerged. Ten feet tall. Skin like molten stone. Its skull crowned with twisted antlers.
A God-Hollow.
The husk of a dead deity… corrupted by time and rage.
Its eyes locked onto Kael.
"He returns…" it whispered in a voice like thunder."The child of the forsaken flame…"
Then it attacked.
Kael barely dodged the first strike.
The beast's claws shattered a column like dry wood. Dust and echoes filled the air.
Kael's sigil blazed to life. The Mark responded to the divine presence—it surged in power.
"Burn."
His body ignited again in cursed fire, but this time it didn't burn him—it unfolded around him like armor.
Shadowsteel formed over his chest and arms, mimicking the form of the ancient god-binders from his vision.
He charged the Hollow.
They clashed with earthshaking force.
The Hollow howled and struck him with divine fury.
Kael was hurled across the chamber, blood trailing in the air. But he stood.
And this time, he spoke a word in the tongue of the old gods—one that came to him in a whisper.
"Break."
The word rippled with power.
The Hollow's limbs shuddered. Its form faltered.
Kael leapt, blade in hand, and drove it through the creature's chest—straight into the divine core buried within.
The Hollow screamed once more… then crumbled into ash.
Silence returned.
Kael stood alone, panting, bloodied—but victorious.
From the remains of the Hollow, a crystal floated upward—a memory shard.
He touched it.
A voice echoed through his mind:
"Kael Draven…You are heir to the Mark of Binding.In your veins runs the legacy of the Abandoned Pantheon.The gods fear what you are.The cults seek to control you.But your blood remembers…And the world will burn before it forgets."
Kael opened his eyes.
His purpose was no longer vengeance alone.
It was revelation.
He wasn't just fighting monsters.
He was unearthing the lies the kingdoms had buried.
And those who stood in his way—be it cult, king, or father—would soon learn:
The Abandoned return with fire.