CHAPTER 92 — THE STORM BEHIND THE VEIL
The night over Blackspire rose like a bruised wound in the sky, swollen with thunder and streaked with crooked silver lightning. At its heart stood Kael, motionless on the shattered bridge that overlooked the ravine — a place once alive with caravans and trade, now choked with fog that clung to the stone like pale fingers. The path behind him was still shaking from the echo of the Shadowblades' retreat; Titanbound had vanished into the trees, following the trail of the unseen enemy they were all beginning to fear.
Kael felt something else in the air — something colder than the storm itself.
A warning.
He crouched, dragging his fingers across the dirt. The earth shimmered faintly. The same distortion. The same residue. The same unknown presence that kept forcing itself into their path and then slipping away before they could identify it.
The wind sharpened at his back.
Kael didn't turn.
He simply said:
"Come out."
A ripple of shadow folded itself into shape several paces behind him, taking on the outline of a figure wrapped in thin, black folds. Not Shadowblades. Not Titanbound. Not any enemy he recognized.
The figure spoke in a low, steady tone.
"You weren't supposed to sense me. Interesting."
Kael rose to his full height, but not aggressively.
"Everyone else misses you. I don't."
"I see that," the figure said, head tilted. "You are not like the others, Kael. That is why this world bends around you."
Kael's jaw tensed. "You know my name. But you don't show your face."
Lightning lit the sky above them.
For a heartbeat, Kael saw the stranger's mask — a smooth, blank surface, mouthless, emotionless.
"I show myself when I choose," the stranger said softly.
"And right now, I choose to warn you."
Kael stepped forward slowly.
"Warn me about what?"
The stranger leaned slightly, almost studying him.
"The cracks in this world are widening. And the thing leaking through them isn't meant for your skies or your soil. If you keep moving forward… everything that breathes here will eventually break."
Kael's pulse slowed — not in fear, but in calculation.
A warning from something this concealed was never simple.
"Why tell me?" Kael asked.
"Why care what breaks?"
The stranger chuckled quietly.
"Oh, I don't care. I'm simply curious how long you can survive before it happens."
Kael's fingers curled, the familiar hum of Ironroot energy shifting beneath his skin — the power that responded to his heartbeat, rising like pressure through a sealed pipe.
The stranger noticed.
"You want to strike me," he said. "But you already know that would be a mistake."
Kael didn't deny it.
"…If you know so much," he said, "start from the beginning. What are you? And what do you want with me?"
The figure took a step back into the fog, becoming a silhouette outlined by lightning.
"I want nothing," he said.
"But the one who is coming does."
Kael's gaze sharpened.
"Who?"
"You will meet him soon enough. When you do… remember this night. Remember that I tried to give you a choice."
The ravine wind howled harder, scattering dust across the bridge.
Kael didn't blink.
"What choice?"
The stranger's voice lowered.
"Turn back — or lose everything."
Then he dissolved into smoke.
Not fading.
Not teleporting.
Melting into the fog as if he had never existed at all.
Kael stood there, the thunder rumbling like some ancient beast waking beneath the clouds. Every instinct told him that whoever the stranger served — or warned about — was something far beyond the threats they had already faced.
He turned away only when he heard footsteps approaching.
Shadowblades emerged from the tree line first, their leader wiping blood from her blade. Titanbound followed a breath later, dragging what remained of some shattered construct — metal fragments exposed from its inner skeleton.
Titanbound tossed the broken shell on the ground.
"It cloaked itself," he said sharply. "Never seen anything like it before. It moved without sound and didn't bleed when I cut it. It didn't even fall properly. Just… collapsed."
Shadowblades' hood twitched as she looked at Kael.
"But something else was here, wasn't it?"
Kael nodded once.
Titanbound stepped closer. "Who?"
"I don't know," Kael said slowly, "but it knew my name."
Shadowblades' stance changed—not fear, but alertness.
"What did it want?"
Kael exhaled.
"It warned me. Told me someone worse is coming."
Titanbound scoffed. "Everyone always says something worse is coming. They've said that since the First Gate cracked."
"This felt different," Kael muttered. "Whoever it was… they didn't fear us. Not even a little."
Shadowblades crossed her arms, blades glinting faintly.
"Describe the mask."
Kael shook his head. "There wasn't anything to describe. No face. No features. Just… blank."
Shadowblades froze.
Titanbound noticed.
"What?" he asked.
Shadowblades said nothing at first.
Then:
"There's a rumor," she whispered. "From the northern passages. Hunters were disappearing. Entire patrols gone without marks or traces. The only sign left behind was the same thing you just described — a faceless watcher."
Titanbound frowned. "A myth."
"Maybe," Shadowblades said, "but myths don't stalk bridges in storms."
Kael looked at the storm twisting above them.
"It said the world is cracking faster now."
Titanbound rubbed his jaw. "Which means something is forcing it open."
Shadowblades nodded. "And if the faceless figure is scouting… then it's only the first."
Her voice lowered.
"The real threat hasn't arrived yet."
Kael's mind flashed back to the stranger's final words.
Turn back — or lose everything.
He clenched his hands slowly.
"I'm not turning back."
Shadowblades smirked faintly. "Didn't think you would."
Titanbound cracked his knuckles. "Good. Because whatever's coming next, I want to hit it first."
A sudden tremor rolled under the bridge.
The fog beneath them twisted, rising into a pillar that pulsed like a heartbeat.
Kael stepped forward.
"Something's waking up down there."
Shadowblades drew both blades.
Titanbound lowered into a fighting stance.
The fog convulsed again — and then it split open as a massive shadow rose, shaped like a creature but moving like a nightmare. Its limbs stretched the wrong way, bending with quiet, unnatural motions. Its head tilted, sensing them without eyes.
Titanbound stared.
"That's not from this world."
Kael felt his power ignite like a furnace.
"No," he whispered.
"It's from the one that's breaking into ours."
The creature lunged — silent, swift, wrong.
Kael moved first, Ironroot power crackling through his arms as he struck the bridge floor, sending a shockwave upward that knocked the creature sideways. Shadowblades dashed in like a slash of night, cutting its limbs with clean, precise strikes. Titanbound grabbed its twisted torso, ripping it free of the fog and smashing it into the stone wall.
The creature didn't scream.
It simply twitched — then dissolved into dust.
Kael stared at the fading remains.
"That wasn't an attack," he said quietly.
"That was a test."
Shadowblades wiped her blade. "Testing what?"
"How ready we are," Kael answered.
Titanbound looked up toward the storm.
"Then I hope whoever sent it understands something…"
He grinned darkly.
"We don't fail tests."
Kael didn't smile.
Because deep inside, he knew — the real threat wasn't coming.
It was already here.
And it was watching.