Darkness clung to the air like smoke. The stone walls of the cult's fortress pulsed with veins of black and crimson, alive with foul enchantments. At the center of the sanctum, bound in shackles etched with cursed runes, floated the Dread King.
Kael hung suspended in the air, arms outstretched, chains embedded deep into his flesh. The once-gleaming obsidian armor was shattered, his body bruised and bleeding. But worse than the wounds was the silence—unnatural and suffocating.
The Mad Sorcerer stepped from the shadows, a cruel smile playing on his cracked lips. His eyes shimmered with madness and ambition.
"You were always meant for more," he whispered, dragging clawed fingers across Kael's cheek. "You, the child I bought for coin, forged in shadow, crowned in blood… You will be the Eye's vessel. The world will bow to what you become."
Kael's head lifted slowly. Blood dripped from his brow. One eye, dull and tired. The other—the Eye—was awakening, burning faintly red.
"I will burn this place to the ground," Kael growled, his voice ragged but sharp. "And I'll start with you."
The sorcerer laughed. "Oh, you will. But not as Kael. As something greater. Something eternal."
He plunged a ceremonial dagger into Kael's chest—not to kill, but to carve. The blade traced a dark sigil across his ribs, lighting up with gold-veined black magic.
Kael screamed—not from pain, but from the fury welling in him. Visions flooded his mind—Lyra's smile… the Thorns standing proud… the children of Dreadhold calling his name.
Then it all twisted—Lyra lying dead. The Thorns shattered. The kingdom in flames.
"No…" he gasped. "No—get out of my head!"
A surge of black and gold aura erupted from Kael's body. The Eye flared wide, burning crimson with spirals of golden light. His chains rattled violently as the aura split the air, scorching the walls.
The cultists nearby fell back in fear. Some screamed. Some dropped to their knees, eyes bleeding.
Even the Mad Sorcerer had to shield his face. But through his fingers, he smiled.
"Yes… Yes! Let it out! Become the vessel!"
Kael's mouth opened in a wordless cry, and the Eye took over. For a heartbeat, the air froze. His body glowed with power. His face was half-shadow, half-godlike flame, a crown of cursed energy rising behind him.
But then—it all collapsed.
The chains surged with power, dragging him down. Runes lit up across his limbs and spine, locking his aura. Kael gasped and fell limp, blood trickling from his eye.
The Mad Sorcerer stepped close, whispering in Kael's ear:
"Break a little more, my king. Soon, there will be nothing left of you."