The first masked warrior moved like a blur.
His boots barely disturbed the dust as he lunged forward, twin daggers hissing with black energy. The boy barely had time to raise his arms in front of his face before the attacker was already in striking distance.
A flash of gold split the air.
CLANG!
Aureon—the Titan—intercepted the blow with one massive forearm. Sparks scattered like stars torn from the heavens. The force of the impact sent a shockwave across the ruins, knocking loose chunks of ancient stone.
The masked warrior skidded back, boots carving twin trenches into the ground.
"Titan-Class construct confirmed," he hissed through his mask. "Designation unknown. Begin suppression."
Three more shadows stepped out from the rift, each wielding different arcane weapons—scythes of pure shadow, crossbows crackling with void lightning, and chains that floated like serpents.
They fanned out, surrounding the boy and the Titan.
Aureon angled its massive body, placing itself squarely between the boy and the incoming enemies. Its wings folded protectively, runes shifting and pulsing brighter with each heartbeat.
"Bearer," the Titan said, voice resonating with deep authority, "you must stand. Your Ember-Core is unstable. The longer you kneel, the faster it tears you apart."
"I can't!" the boy gasped. "I don't even know what this is!"
Bright cracks of light spiderwebbed across his veins. The power within him felt like wildfire trapped inside a glass bottle—pressing, expanding, begging to be released.
"You can," Aureon said.
"Because you must."
The warriors attacked all at once.
Chains shot from the left, shadow spears from the right, and a web of dark lightning arced overhead. The Titan spun, wings igniting with golden flame. The impact created a dome of light that shattered the incoming strikes like brittle glass.
Not a single attack touched the boy.
Aureon's voice remained calm, even as shadow warriors rushed forward.
"You are afraid.
That is natural.
But fear is the spark.
Will is the flame."
The boy clenched his teeth.
His hands trembled.
His chest burned.
"I—I don't know how to use this power!"
Aureon raised its arm. Light gathered around its hand, forming a blade of molten brilliance.
"You do not need to know."
"You only need to choose."
A warrior leapt over the ruins, blade aimed for the boy's throat.
Reflex—not training—snapped through his body.
The boy threw out his hand.
BOOM.
A column of blue-white fire erupted from his palm, tearing through the air and slamming into the attacker. The masked warrior flew backward, smashing into a stone pillar hard enough to crack bone and armor.
Silence fell for half a heartbeat.
The boy stared at his hand, chest rising and falling in disbelief.
"What… what was that?"
"Your first Ember-Burst," Aureon said. "Crude. Unrefined. Raw."
The Titan's helm tilted, almost like a nod.
"But effective."
Before the boy could speak, three more shadows lunged at once—faster, coordinated this time. The Titan met them head-on, wings sweeping outward with thunderous force.
THRUMMMM.
Aureon unleashed a shockwave of golden flame, incinerating the nearest attacker and sending the rest flying. A huge slab of ancient wall collapsed under the force.
"Target is too powerful!" one masked warrior shouted. "Requesting reinforcement—"
Aureon's hand snapped forward.
A lance of light shot through the warrior's chest.
The masked figure dropped with a dull thud.
The rest of the enemies hesitated.
Just for a moment.
But Aureon didn't hesitate at all.
The Titan whirled, eyes burning brighter than twin stars.
"This battle is over."
The last surviving warrior activated a talisman, hurling it to the ground. The rift reopened—jagged, unstable—pulling him back toward the void.
But before he vanished, his masked face turned toward the boy.
"The Shadow Imperium has found you, Ember-Bearer. You cannot hide. You cannot run. You belong to us."
Aureon stepped forward, wings flaring.
"Begone, wretch."
The rift snapped shut like a door slamming.
The ruins fell silent.
Only the crackling of dying flames remained.
The boy collapsed to one knee, gasping for air. His vision blurred. The glow in his eyes flickered violently. Aureon immediately knelt beside him, the ground trembling under its weight.
"Stay conscious," the Titan ordered.
"I… can't," the boy whispered. "It hurts… it's too much…"
Aureon placed one enormous hand lightly against the boy's chest, right over his heart. Its touch hummed with warm, stabilizing energy.
"Your Ember-Core is awakening," the Titan said. "Your body is adapting to power it was never trained to wield."
The boy swallowed.
"What happens now?"
Aureon's eyes dimmed slightly—somber, yet resolute.
"Now, Bearer… we must leave the ruins. The Shadow Imperium will not stop. They have hunted Ember-Bearers for generations."
"Your only chance for survival is within the Kingdom of Erindale."
"And the academy that trains those who command constructs."
The boy looked up, exhaustion painting his features.
"What… what do I even call you?"
The Titan straightened.
Golden fire arced across its armor.
"When the world was young, I was known as Aureon, the Titan King."
The boy's breath caught.
Aureon lowered its head.
"And you," it said quietly, "are my last Bearer. Rise. We must depart before night ends."
The boy pushed himself to his feet.
Not because he understood.
Not because he was ready.
But because the world had shifted—dangerous and vast—and he had no choice but to move with it.
Aureon turned toward the distant capital, wings spreading wide.
"Come. Your fate awaits."
And together, boy and Titan stepped out of the ruins—
their shadows stretching long under the rising dawn.