Chapter 10: The Flame and the Void

The world of Arcanis stirred with unrest.

The Arcane Union’s sacred Spire of Sanctum lay half-ruined, its Flamecore stolen. Darkveil’s outposts in the eastern marshes had gone silent. Rumors whispered of a third force—one clad in shadow and steel, commanding magic that obeyed no known law.

In every corner of the realm, one name now echoed like a curse:
Kael Draven.

In a high council chamber buried deep beneath the Arcane Citadel, the Grand Arcanist slammed his hand on the table. “He’s not just a rogue Rider. He’s orchestrating something—uniting warlocks, technomancers, and monsters. That Flamecore was a declaration.”

A projection shimmered into existence: Kael in full armor, his violet eyes glowing through the abyssal helm. The image was grainy, captured from a dying scrying spell.

“What do we know?” another council member asked.

“He calls his faction the Abyss Order. Base unknown. Forces growing. And—” the mage hesitated—“he’s begun fusing our magic with his technology.”

“Impossible,” the Grand Arcanist growled.

“He is the impossible,” the seer whispered.

Far to the south, in the Citadel of Darkveil, a different kind of fury simmered.

A cruel, pale figure with molten veins stood atop a balcony, gazing over ranks of soldiers. Lord Varrick, high commander of the Darkveil Dominion.

His lips curled. “He takes what’s ours and makes it stronger. He dares to fuse our experiments with light magic? That I cannot ignore.”

A red-robed advisor approached. “Do we retaliate, my lord?”

“No. Not yet.” Varrick’s eyes gleamed. “Let the Union bleed first. Then we strike when both are weak.”

Meanwhile, in a hidden chamber of the Abyss Order’s underground citadel, Kael stood before his new creation: a towering gate etched with ancient runes and Rider circuitry—a rift engine. Powered by the stolen Flamecore, it pulsed with unstable dimensional energy.

Lyra watched warily. “You’re planning to open a portal to where?”

Kael didn’t answer at first.

He touched the gate, and it responded with a low hum.

“To the Deep Void,” he said finally. “A place beyond magic. Beyond rules. Something sleeps there. Something old. And angry.”

Myrr stepped forward, his demonic aura flickering. “You would call upon the Void Lords? Even I fear them.”

Kael turned, voice steady. “Fear is useful. But it no longer binds me.”

Selene crossed her arms. “You want to summon them?”

“No,” Kael said with a grin. “I want to bargain.”

Outside the citadel, scouts returned—bloodied and breathless.

“A battalion from the Union. Twenty strong. Led by a Flameblade commander. They’re coming this way.”

Kael looked to his generals. “Let them. Tonight, we show the world that we do not hide.”

He stepped onto a raised platform and summoned his Rider gear. Armor snapped into place like flowing obsidian, and the Abyss Core roared to life within his chest.

He raised his voice so all within earshot could hear:

“We are not the darkness beneath their boots. We are the abyss beneath their foundations. And we will rise.”