Nyk's apartment was big enough to fit an entire guild hall—wide rooms, quiet hallways, tall ceilings, and a living area that felt more like a private lounge than a home. The six primordial vessels had already claimed their corners, talking quietly or settling into couches, while Christine disappeared upstairs to change.
By the time the noise died down, Rayon stood alone by the massive floor-to-ceiling window, looking over the neon-struck expanse of the city.
The night pressed softly against the glass.
Rayon's reflection was still. Focused. Distant.
A faint ripple hummed in the air.
Erethon materialized beside him in full form—lean, tall, eyes like swirling ink. Nyk, who had just come down the stairs, stopped mid-step, eyes widening.
Vorthalaxis appeared next—her spiritual form shimmering violet and black, sitting cross-legged on the couch flipping through a random magazine she'd snatched up. She didn't even glance at Nyk.
Nyk blinked.
"Aye bro… what you been up to in the five minutes I left you alone?"
Rayon didn't look away from the window.
"Just preparing."
"For what?" Nyk asked.
Rayon slid his hands into his pockets.
"I'm heading out for a bit. I'll be back soon."
Nyk's brows raised.
"Damn bro, you just got here."
Rayon shrugged lightly.
"You know how it is."
He never explained himself.
Never dumped his burdens on anyone else.
Rayon always solved his own darkness alone.
Erethon exhaled through his nose, arms folding.
"So… it's finally time."
He dissolved back into Rayon's consciousness in a swirl of black.
Vorthalaxis closed the magazine, dusted off her legs, and slipped into Rayon's shadow like flowing smoke.
The air changed.
From Rayon's feet, Black Resonance bled outward—a slow spill of obsidian light that stretched across the floor. The shadows lifted, curled, and bent like a living sea:
A portal opened beneath him.
Rayon turned slightly toward Nyk.
"Handle things for me across the continent for two days," he said calmly. "I'll be back on the third."
Nyk rubbed his face.
"Aiite fam… but you better turn up when you get back."
A faint, cocky smile touched Rayon's lips.
"Death can't contain me."
And he dropped into the shadow—
vanishing.
The portal snapped shut.
Silence settled.
Christine descended the stairs in a different fit—hair tied up, eyes sharp enough to cut stone.
She glanced around, noticing the quiet, then looked straight at Nyk.
"Where's that Rayon guy? And why did you let him in here? Why are you even friends with him? People don't just walk into our house like that, Nyk."
Nyk held one hand out, still staring at the window as if Rayon's last shadow imprint still lingered.
"That guy?"
He smiled faintly.
"That's my homie. Rayon's a real one. He just sees the world for what it really is… you feel me?"
Christine crossed her arms.
"I'm being serious."
Nyk nodded slowly.
"Remember two years ago? When my parents died and I was robbing just to stay alive? When we first met?"
Her face softened a little.
"Yeah… of course."
"Remember the wanted poster we saw of a man with black hair? The one the awakeners warned everybody about?"
She froze.
"…That's Ray—"
Nyk nodded.
"Yes. That's Rayon Veynar."
Christine's eyes widened.
"He's… he's a primordial vessel?"
Nyk shook his head.
"He was. Now? He's the first primordial vessel in history to become a primordial himself without killing another primordial."
He lifted two fingers.
"And you know what it means to kill a primordial."
Christine swallowed.
"Only one primordial ever died… the Primordial of the End, Oblivion."
"Right," Nyk said. "And Rayon became one before he even killed one."
He exhaled, leaning against the window frame.
"Even before he awakened his primordial—Insanity—he was wanted everywhere by the Awakeners Circle in Krylos. You know that branch—top three strongest in the world. They sent ten high-rank awakeners and the head of the association to kill him."
Christine's breath hitched.
"And he still—?"
"He beat them. Alone. Walked out without a scratch."
Nyk tapped the side of his head.
"And his name spread everywhere. Even into the most secretive places."
He lit a cigarette.
"In the world's eyes, he's the Black Primordial now."
Then, softer:
"In my eyes though… he's someone who lost a lot too. Someone like me. That's why I call him big bro."
He lifted the cigarette to his lips—
Pff.
A bullet snapped through the air and clipped the burning tip clean off from across the room.
Nyk stared at the smoking stump of the cigarette.
Christine held her pistol loosely at her side, eyes narrowing.
"No smoking indoors."
Nyk sighed.
"Damn babe…"