The stars no longer watched him.
They ran from him.
Alanus Vel'Kaer, cloaked in emberlight, walked the bloodied path that led through the Bonepass Cliffs — a stretch of broken land where tyrants once buried their shame. The wind howled like a cursed choir, dragging ancient whispers across the broken stones beneath his boots.
Seris kept pace, silent, hand on her dagger, her eyes wary.
"You've grown quiet," Alan muttered.
"I'm walking beside a myth," she said, "and heading toward a place even myths avoid."
Alan stopped before a massive stone door embedded in the cliffs. A symbol glowed faintly on its surface — a burning eye within a triangle, surrounded by chained suns.
"The Seal of the Forgotten Throne," he whispered. "One of seven."
Seris swallowed hard. "Behind this door lies the Chapel of Tyrants. It's not guarded by locks. It's guarded by... memory."
Alan stepped forward. "Then it's time I remembered."
With a wave of his hand, the soulblade floated before him, rotating slowly, emitting a low hum. It pulsed once.
BOOM.
The door shattered into stardust, revealing a spiral staircase that spiraled downward… into a pit of violet light.
*****
The descent felt endless.
Each step Alan took seemed to echo across realities. The further they went, the more the world distorted—walls breathed, air shimmered, and voices whispered his name in ancient tongues.
When they reached the bottom, the Hall of Chains revealed itself.
It was circular, colossal, lit by floating orbs of darkfire. Seven thrones circled a central platform. All empty.
Except one.
On the center throne sat a figure wrapped in golden chains, face masked, aura oppressive.
Seris gasped. "That's… King Myron of Vel-Kareth. He was executed ten thousand years ago for treason against the heavens!"
The chained man stirred. "You remember me, Alanus?" his voice croaked.
Alan narrowed his eyes. "You were the one who sold your kingdom to the Thrones for a taste of godhood."
"I was the one who warned them," Myron spat. "Warned them of you. Of what you'd become. And still, they underestimated you."
Chains rattled as he rose. "And now... I am the test. Pass me, and the First Seal of your Divinity will awaken."
Alan's blade ignited with crimson fire. "I'm not here to pass your test," he said.
"I'm here to end you."
*****
The chamber erupted into chaos.
Myron's chains lashed outward, splitting stone and shadow. Alan dodged, blurred, reappeared midair, blade slicing through spells older than time. The clash of power shook the foundations of the realm.
Seris backed away, shielding her eyes from the blinding aura of combat.
The flame-wrapped Alan clashed with the chained tyrant again and again.
Finally, with a scream that shattered the throne beneath him, Myron fell — body incinerated by the soulblade, divine essence consumed by the blade's insatiable hunger.
A pulse followed.
The hall stilled.
Then—on Alan's back—a new sigil burned itself into existence: a burning halo split by a serpent.
The First Seal had awakened.