Kol stood at the edge of the city, staring out over the landscape.
He clenched his fists. Something was wrong.
He shook his head. It didn't matter. Whatever was coming, he would face it like he always had—alone.
Footsteps echoed behind him. He didn't need to turn to know who it was.
Jacob Draven.
"You feel it, don't you?" Jacob's voice was steady, but there was an edge to it. He had felt it too.
Kol exhaled slowly. "Something is shifting."
Kol's eyes narrowed.
Jacob turned to him, his expression unreadable.
Kol's body went rigid.
Jacob studied him carefully.
Kol turned away.
His gaze darkened.
The tremor passed, but the unease in Kol's chest did not. He turned his gaze toward the horizon, watching as the sky darkened unnaturally, thick clouds swirling like ink in water.
Jacob took a step forward, his fingers tightening around the hilt of his sword. "That's not normal."
Kol smirked, though there was no amusement behind it. "Nothing has been normal since the day we killed the Demon King."
Jacob shot him a sharp look. "You mean the day you killed him.
Without another word, he took off. Jacob cursed under his breath before following, his instincts screaming that whatever awaited them was going to change everything.
Darkness surrounded the air.
Lisa stood in the ruins of an ancient temple, her fingers trembling as she traced the worn symbols on the stone altar before her. A manuscript lay open beside her, its inked words almost glowing in the dim light.
She had done it.
She had spoken the words.
And now… something was waking up.
The air crackled with power, her breath hitching as a deep, guttural sound rumbled through the temple.
A voice.
A whisper from beyond time itself.
"The True King rises… and the world shall kneel."
Lisa's heart pounded.
What had she unleashed?