Ashvael's breath came in shallow gasps, the weight of what he had just witnessed pressing down on him like the suffocating grip of the death. The image of the monstrous figure still fresh in his where the figure was devouring the heart of the soldier—its crimson eyes glowing with a terrifying, violent light, the still-pulsing heart clenched in its killer's hand. The thought of it sent a tremor of dread through his entire core.
Frozen in place, he stared at the throne before him. Shadows twisted around it, coiling like living things, and he felt the oppressive presence of the figure, still seated in that darkened seat. It was as if the figure itself had become the center of the universe, its cold gaze drilling into his very soul.
The figure on throne did not move but the air shimmered around him
then suddenly the voice came.
But it wasn't speech, not in the way mortals understood it. His voice came from everywhere and nowhere, the voice itself feel ancient and timeless.
"You saw it, didn't you?The blood. The heart torn from the chest.Good. Then you understand what kind of world you're walking into.
"So… you've seen it.The blood. The crown. The curse."
the moment of silence—then the shadows danced around the throne, like the world itself is holding its breath.
"If this message reaches you…
then the hymn of my death has already been sung—
Not by gods, but by traitors.
One of my own
a coward cloaked in loyalty, drove the dagger in when my back was turned to shield his."
The air grew colder, the throne itself gave out the low agonized creak as if mourning to his masters death, spectral whispers slithered across the chamber like ghostly winds.
"I was the Vampire Voidborne Monarch.
I burned kingdoms,
butchered gods,
and dragged empires to their knees.
I didn't rule
I conquered.
But even monsters bleed.
Even legends fall."
The voice grows quieter now almost reverent, almost broken. Silence feels thick and suffocating. Then, a violent tremor rattles the chamber.
"Lux survived.
He's not your protector. He won't shield you.He'll tear you apart, remake you, and if you're lucky…you'll crawl out of the abyss with your sanity still intact." But i wouldn't recommend sanity because the world you are going to walk will try to eat you at every step."
The tone of voice suddenly dropped low and brutal, like a death sentence has been passed.
"You're not ready.
No one give fuck.
The Realms are coming for your bones, boy. And you've got two choices—
Bow
or
butcher."
A low crack echoed across the void as the figure raised from throne .
His body unfolded with eerie grace, not like a man standing, but like a nightmare remembering how to move. The shadows peeled from him like smoke abandoning a corpse, revealing an ancient war-torn silhouette cloaked in blacker-than-black armor, every step ringing like a death hymn.
He stepped down from the throne.
One step. Then another.
Each footfall made the stone groan beneath him, the air itself trembling—as if the world feared his presence returning to it.
His gaze locked with Ashvael's—unblinking, hollow, inhuman.
"Now rise, Heir of Night,
he growled, voice closer, heavier
like it was pressing against Ashvael's chest.
"And make the darkness kneel."
Ashvael stepped backward, his breath torn from him like he's been drowning. The throne, the shadows, the figure—it all shattered into fragments of smoke, vanishing into the thin air like dying embers.
But something remained.
A mark, seared into his chest.A name, burned into his mind.And a purpose, whispered by the void itself.
The voice still echoed inside him like a curse wrapped in fate.
"Make the darkness kneel."
Suddenly ashvael returned to his senses Ashvael's body jerked upright, his chest heavy as the light flickered above him. The room was unchanged. Time had not moved.
But something felt different.
suddenly came the lux voice
"Are you awake now, Ashvael?" the voice asked,
"You've witnessed the reality firsthand, haven't you?"
Ashvael gazed into the mirror, seeing his reflection staring back, eyes filled with terror from what he had just seen. He tried to shake the feeling, but Lux's voice continued, pressing against him.
"You are far from ready for what's coming."
And then, just as quickly, the voice cut off. The washroom seemed to still, leaving Ashvael alone with his thoughts, the air thick with unanswered questions.