The warning bells echoed like war drums through the Hollow.
Kael sprinted after Mira and the others, weaving through the narrow walkways as Soulmarked gathered, summoned, and prepared. Sparks danced in the air—fire-wielders igniting their palms, wind-callers lifting off the ground, and stonebinders reinforcing walls with jagged barricades.
At the edge of the eastern tunnel, a group of scouts stumbled back—wounded, bloodied, terrified.
"They're faster than before," one gasped. "New tech… anti-mark runes… they're not just hunting anymore—they're cleansing."
Revak stepped forward, gripping a hammer that pulsed with orange light. "Then we answer in kind."
Kael's stomach twisted. This wasn't a training arena. This was real. If he failed here, people would die.
Mira turned to him, eyes fierce. "Stay behind me."
"No," Kael said, surprising himself. "I'm done hiding."
She looked at him—truly looked—and gave a small nod.
---
The Tunnel Clash
The battle exploded like a dam breaking.
Inquisition soldiers in black-and-crimson armor poured into the tunnel—faces hidden by masks inscribed with nullifying glyphs. The air around them shimmered with anti-magic fields, pushing back weaker Soulmarked.
Revak roared, leaping into the fray, his hammer sending shockwaves through the tunnel floor. One strike shattered three soldiers' armor; another sent a rune-barrier crumbling.
Kael stayed close to the wall, hands trembling. He tried to summon the flame, but it sputtered, unstable.
Two soldiers broke through the front and rushed at him. Their blades hummed with cold magic.
He raised his palm—
But nothing came.
The mark was dead quiet.
Until—
Time slowed.
A voice echoed—not from outside, but from within.
"The flame does not obey fear. It answers memory."
And suddenly Kael saw it—not the tunnel, not the Hollow—but a different battlefield.
He stood upon scorched earth, wearing armor of obsidian, his body surrounded by spiraling flame. Dozens knelt before him—Soulmarked, marked by stars, storms, and steel.
The vision shattered.
Kael gasped, heat flooding his veins. His palm erupted in light.
The oncoming soldiers hesitated—but too late.
Kael stepped forward and thrust his hand toward the ground. Flames exploded in a perfect circle, forming a burning barrier between him and the soldiers. Then he lifted both arms—and the fire obeyed.
A whip of flame lashed forward, striking one soldier squarely in the chest and launching him backward. The other turned to flee, but Kael's eyes glowed gold—and fire blossomed beneath the man's feet.
He screamed—and disappeared in smoke.
The others watched in stunned silence.
Kael stood at the center of the tunnel, fire swirling around him like a living cloak.
---
Retreat and Realization
The Inquisition faltered.
Seeing one of their own fall to a flame wielder they couldn't suppress, they activated smoke grenades and retreated back into the tunnels—disappearing into the shadows with bitter curses.
When it was over, Kael collapsed to one knee, panting. The fire flickered, then vanished.
Mira rushed to his side. "Are you hurt?"
He shook his head. "No. But… something happened. I saw… another life. A memory. I think I was—"
"The Soul General," said a quiet voice.
They turned. The Seer stood nearby, her staff glowing faintly.
"You saw who you once were," she whispered. "Before the Purge. Before the Empire. A leader of the Old Flame. The fire within you remembers. And now… it begins again."
Kael looked down at his scar. It glowed faintly—no longer burning, but warm. Alive.
"I don't know if I can become him again," he said softly.
The Seer smiled. "You already have."
Above them, the Hollow began to sing—chanting in the old tongue, a song of survival.
Kael rose to his feet.
And deep inside him, the flame answered with silence.
But not emptiness.
Resolve.