The Revelation

Lucas gasped for air. Blood still dripped from his wounds. The ground around him was a mosaic of corpses and dust.

Vaelin stood there. Motionless. His black cloak blended into the shadows. His silver hair, dirtied by soot, danced with the wind. But what truly froze Lucas was the look in his eyes — not of an enemy, but of someone who already knew how the story would end.

"Who are you?" Lucas growled, his chest heaving like a cornered animal.

Vaelin didn't answer. He tilted his head slightly, as if he were hearing something Lucas couldn't perceive.

And then, the voice.

"Kill him."

It wasn't a whisper. It was a command. A blade slicing through his mind.

Lucas felt his muscles react without permission. Power pulsed beneath his skin.

Vaelin didn't flinch.

"Still trying to control what you don't understand?" he said with disdain.

Lucas clenched his teeth. He wanted to attack. He wanted to understand. He wanted to run.

Vaelin stepped forward. His very presence distorted the air.

"That thing speaking to you... it's not a gift. It's a hunger. An ancient thing. Crawling through centuries, jumping from body to body."

Lucas swallowed hard.

"Then what am I?"

Vaelin stared at him.

"A door that was never meant to be opened."

The Curse in Disguise

"They lied to you," Vaelin said quietly. "From the very beginning."

Lucas kept his gaze locked onto him.

"When that kingdom brought you here, they weren't looking for salvation. They wanted control. They wanted supreme power — something to bring all other realms to their knees."

He stepped closer, his tone heavier.

"The Abyss. They knew of its existence. But they couldn't contain it. Couldn't access it. No body in this world could bear its weight."

Lucas felt his heart tighten.

"So they had an idea: bring someone from outside. A new body. An unprepared soul. Someone who could endure... just long enough."

Vaelin drew nearer.

"They called you a hero so you would lower your guard. So you would accept the role. So you would open the door willingly."

The silence that followed was merciless.

"You weren't the solution. You were the means."

Lucas closed his fists. The air around him grew heavier.

Inside, something thrashed. It wasn't just anger — it was the horrifying sense that everything had been written long before he ever arrived. He hadn't accepted being the hero, but somehow, every step he'd taken still obeyed an ancient script. And Clara... she had been the price even before the choice was ever offered. From the start, he had no control. Only the illusion of it.

Reflections

Lucas looked around. Everything seemed gray. Worn.

"So I'm not a hero... I'm a monster?" he muttered.

Vaelin shrugged.

"Heroes save. Monsters devour. You're still somewhere in between."

Lucas turned to face a pool of blood at his feet. But the reflection he saw wasn't his own. Or maybe it was.

The eyes were too dark. The form... larger than it should've been. And it moved before he did.

He recoiled, breathing hard.

Vaelin folded his arms. "And that's just the surface."

A Path With No Return

"What happens now?" Lucas asked, still trembling.

Vaelin turned and began to walk away.

"Now you choose. Pretend you still have control... or come with me."

Lucas didn't answer immediately. Vaelin was already moving away when he said:

"The Abyss has roots. And I'll take you to them."

Lucas stood there, motionless, for long moments. He tried to recall his daughter's face — but the image came blurry. As if it was being corroded from within.

Only the memory of a voice lingered.

"Wait for me."

He took a deep breath.

And walked.

The shadows stretched toward him.

The shadows stretched toward him.And the world, silent, let them close in behind him.