Arin crashed onto cold stone, breath tearing from his lungs.
The Demon Realm vanished behind him like a snapped dream, replaced by a cavern lit with pale blue crystals. The air was thin but real—human.
He rolled once, instinctively coating his body in chakra, blade already in hand.
Nothing attacked.
Only silence.
Nyra lay a few steps away, motionless.
"Kaalith?" Arin called, pushing himself up.
No answer.
The unstable gate behind them flickered violently, shrinking in on itself. From within it, a single crimson eye opened—vast, furious.
The Demon King.
Arin felt the mark on his soul burn.
The gate collapsed.
Darkness sealed.
Nyra groaned and sat up, pressing a hand to her head. "We're alive," she muttered. "That's… new."
Arin exhaled shakily. "Where are we?"
Nyra stood, scanning the cavern. "Borderlands. A forgotten zone between realms. The Guardians used to seal breaches here."
At the word Guardians, something stirred in Arin's chest—not the demon pull, but something older. Familiar.
Before he could speak, pain exploded behind his eyes.
He staggered.
Images flooded in—ancient warriors carving seals into stone, teachers standing where he stood now, blood spilled to protect this place.
Nyra caught him. "You're remembering," she said quietly. "Not visions. Memory."
Arin steadied himself. "I've been here before."
Nyra's expression darkened. "Then they wiped more than I thought."
A sudden click echoed through the cavern.
Chakra seals flared to life along the walls.
"You are correct."
A figure stepped out of the shadows.
An old man in layered robes, beard braided with rune-threads, eyes glowing faint gold.
Rudra.
Arin froze. "You're—"
"Alive," Rudra finished. "And very disappointed."
Relief and guilt hit Arin at once. "You followed me."
"I prepared for you," Rudra corrected. His gaze shifted to Nyra. "And I see you brought a consequence."
Nyra inclined her head respectfully. "Link Nyra. Former."
Rudra's grip tightened on his staff. "I felt your signature vanish years ago."
"I didn't vanish," Nyra said. "I was buried."
Rudra turned back to Arin. "Show me your mark."
Arin hesitated—then nodded.
The mark surfaced.
Not on his skin, but above it—an ever-shifting sigil of crimson and black, hovering near his chest like an eye that never blinked.
Rudra sucked in a breath.
"They marked you as Prey."
Nyra swore under her breath. "That fast…"
Arin's jaw set. "Explain."
Rudra struck his staff against the ground.
The cavern walls lit up, revealing massive murals.
Links fighting demons.
Links leading armies.
Links crowned in blood.
And at the end—
Links losing themselves.
"The Mark of Watching means this," Rudra said gravely. "Every major demon, every Chain Bearer, every Hunter of the Court can now sense you."
Arin felt the weight of it settle into his bones.
"So I'm a beacon."
"No," Nyra corrected softly. "You're a challenge."
Rudra's eyes narrowed. "And challenges invite escalation."
As if summoned by the words, the cavern trembled.
A distant horn echoed—low, ancient.
Rudra turned sharply toward the tunnel entrance.
"That," he said, "is not a demon signal."
Arin felt it too.
Human chakra.
Thousands of them.
An army.
Rudra's voice hardened.
"The Demon Realm has moved its first piece," he said.
"And the human world has just answered—with fear."
Outside the cavern, banners snapped in the wind.
The symbol upon them was unmistakable.
The Order of Purity.
Nyra whispered, horrified, "They hunt Links."
Arin stared at the mark hovering over his heart as it pulsed—slow, deliberate.
Caught between two worlds.
Hunted by both.
And somewhere far away, his sister screamed.
The mark opened its eye.
To be continue...