Ashen woke to the scent of burning wood.
His body ached from head to toe, and his clothes were torn, burned, and soaked with dried blood. The Hollow Beast's corpse still lay nearby — now just a smoldering skeleton surrounded by ash and cracked stone.
The sky above remained broken. Nothing had changed.
And yet… something had.
Ashen could feel it — a strange tug in his chest, like his body was now connected to something deeper, darker. The fire inside him hadn't gone out. It had just settled, waiting.
> "You survived," the ring said. "That alone makes you different."
Ashen didn't answer. He stood up slowly and looked around.
The village was truly dead now. Silent. Soulless. He had to move.
He searched the area, scavenging what little he could — a half-burnt cloak, a cracked water flask, and a rusted dagger that still held an edge. Not much, but it was something.
Then, he heard it.
Footsteps.
Ashen dropped low, eyes narrowing. The sound came from beyond the village square — steady, careful, and far too calm for someone walking through ruins.
He pressed against a fallen wall and waited.
A figure stepped out from the smoke.
A tall man, wrapped in a black coat lined with strange silver threads. His face was hidden under a wide hood, and his hands were covered with gloves. At his side hung a sword that shimmered like it was made from glass and light.
The man stopped at the edge of the square and looked directly at Ashen's hiding spot.
"I know you're there," he said calmly. "I won't attack… unless you give me a reason to."
Ashen stayed silent.
The man took a step closer. "You killed the Hollow Beast. Impressive. Most Ascendants don't even survive their first encounter."
Ashen's eyes widened. "You… know what I am?"
The man nodded. "Not just me. Many are watching you now. You lit your flame too early. That ring of yours doesn't let you hide."
Ashen stood slowly, one hand on his dagger. "Who are you?"
The man pulled back his hood.
He had silver eyes. Eyes that didn't blink like a normal person's. Eyes that glowed faintly in the dim light.
"My name is Ravel. I'm a Seeker from the Hollow Empire. And I've come to warn you."
Ashen narrowed his eyes. "Warn me?"
Ravel stepped closer, careful but unafraid. "There are others like you. Broken, forgotten, cursed. But only one is the last Ascendant… and every kingdom, every cult, and every Decay-born abomination wants your head."
Ashen tensed.
Ravel raised a hand. "I don't work for them. I serve someone else. Someone who believes you're the only one who can fix what's left of this dying world."
Ashen hesitated. "Why should I trust you?"
Ravel smiled faintly. "You shouldn't. Not yet. But I can offer you one thing: a path. Stay here, and the next beast will finish what the last one couldn't. Follow me… and you might just live long enough to ask the right questions."
Ashen looked down at his hands. The fire had gone quiet, but it was still there.
He looked back at the village — the broken homes, the ashes of a past he didn't remember.
And then he stepped forward.
"Fine. Lead the way."
> "You trust him?" the ring whispered, doubtful.
"No," Ashen murmured. "But I have nothing else."
And so, the boy with no past followed the stranger in black, walking into the smoke of a world that had already begun to forget the light.