The wind atop the Ashmark cliffs tasted of metal and storm.
Yuto stared into the distance—where mountains parted to reveal Drazan’s western frontier. A jagged black fortress rose from the canyon below, veined with glowing red magic. Lightning danced around its spires, feeding off the same power that hummed in his blood.
“Fortress Nocthra,” Seris said beside him. “One of Renji’s strongholds. And where your sister is likely being held.”
Yuto gripped his blade.
He didn’t speak.
He couldn’t—not with rage pulsing through every vein.
✧ ✧ ✧
The infiltration began under moonless skies.
Yuto, Kael, Lyra, and two elite Exiles descended the canyon walls, their boos muffled by spellcraft. Kael whispered incantations, cloaking their presence in silence. The air grew colder with each step—infused with dark warding spells and soul-bound sentries.
At the fortress gates, Lyra placed her hand against the obsidian stone and whispered a forgotten prayer. The runes faded.
“Now,” she said. “We have two hours.”
Inside, the halls were carved with cruelty. Armor of fallen knights lined the walls, polished like trophies. Magic sigils shimmered above doorways—watchers of memory and mind.
They moved swiftly, avoiding patrols and wards, until they reached a sealed chamber marked by a red flame crest.
Yuto froze.
The crest was his own sigil—twisted and reversed.
✧ ✧ ✧
The door creaked open.
Inside stood a wide arena—stone walls scarred with old battles, the scent of blood still fresh.
And across the chamber stood a figure clad in black and red armor, a dark cloak flowing behind him.
Yuto stepped forward.
The figure looked up.
And Yuto stared into a face identical to his own.
The same eyes. Same scar across the cheek. Same sword.
But his double wore a crown of chains. And his smile wasn’t his—it was Renji’s.
“Who… are you?” Yuto breathed.
The copy tilted his head. “I’m what Renji imagined you would become. His weapon. His monster. His champion.”
Kael swore behind him. “A soul-forged homunculus… created from your memories.”
Yuto gripped his sword tighter. “Then let’s see which of us is real.”
✧ ✧ ✧
The battle was chaos.
Steel met steel, crimson clashed with crimson. Each strike from the clone felt like a reflection—an echo of Yuto’s own instincts. He couldn’t overpower it. Couldn’t outmatch it.
But then—he remembered.
He wasn’t just rage. He was choice.
And so, instead of fighting to kill, he fought to understand.
Yuto shifted his stance—mirroring Kael’s technique, Lyra’s counters, Seris’s footwork. He was more than the clone because he had grown with others.
He lunged, feinted, twisted—breaking pattern.
And with one final strike, he disarmed the double and plunged his blade through its heart.
The homunculus looked up at him—not with hate, but with relief.
“Don’t… become me,” it whispered, and crumbled into ash.
✧ ✧ ✧
Behind the throne, a sealed door opened.
And there she was.
Yuto’s younger sister—Aya—chained by magic, her body weak, her eyes wide.
She looked up and whispered, “Yuto… is it really you?”
He ran to her, tearing the binds with sigil fire, pulling her into his arms.
“I’m here. I’m not leaving you again.”
But as they turned to leave, a slow clap echoed from the shadows.
Renji stepped into the light, wearing regal robes of black and gold.
“You’re early,” he said, smiling. “But no matter. Now that you’ve found her, things will finally get interesting.”
His eyes glowed crimson.
And behind him, a second door began to open.
The door behind Renji groaned as it opened—stone scraping against stone, ancient runes pulsing to life.
From the darkness beyond, a wave of heat and arcane pressure rolled into the chamber. The torches dimmed. Aya clutched Yuto’s sleeve, eyes wide in fear.
Renji’s voice rang out, calm and mocking.
“You came all this way… for a reunion?”
He stepped aside, revealing the figure behind the second door.
It wasn’t human.
It was a throne—no, a prison—made of bones and black metal. And seated within it was a being older than language, wrapped in shadow, with six burning eyes and a voice like thunder and whispers combined.
“The child of blood… has come.”
Yuto staggered as the Blood Sigil on his arm blazed to life, reacting violently.
Kael stepped forward, trembling.
“That’s not a creature… that’s a god.”
Renji smiled. “The first sigil-bearer. Bound by the ancients beneath this world. And now, free by my hand.”
✧ ✧ ✧
The throne-creature rose, stretching impossibly tall.
“Renji offered me his soul… and I gave him the Crown of Echoes.”
As it spoke, Renji’s body twisted, crimson tendrils wrapping around his limbs and spine. His eyes flared red and gold as the god’s power flowed into him. His voice became two—his own and something deeper.
“I am no longer just Renji.”
“I am Veyrath, Echo of the Endless King.”
Yuto shielded Aya and shouted over the roar of magic, “We’re leaving. Now.”
Kael threw a sigil bomb, collapsing the roof between them and the throne. Debris fell, buying them precious seconds.
They ran.
✧ ✧ ✧
The escape through Nocthra was chaos.
Sigil traps burst from the walls. Phantoms emerged from dark corners—twisted soldiers who once served Renji in life and now served something worse. Lyra fought like a storm, Kael launched wards, and Yuto carved a path through flame and blood.
Aya clung to his back, whispering instructions in a voice only he could hear.
She remembered this place. She had seen things in her captivity.
“Renji… he’s not controlling that god,” she whispered. “It’s using him. Feeding on his hate. On your bond.”
Yuto didn’t answer.
He already knew.
✧ ✧ ✧
They burst into the night air atop Nocthra’s north tower. The Exile griffon-riders swept down to extract them. As the fortress burned behind them, Yuto looked back one last time.
In the highest window, Renji stood watching.
Not angry. Not afraid.
Smiling.
As if this was always how it was meant to be.
✧ ✧ ✧
Back at Ashmark, the Exiles sealed the gates. Aya was tended to by healers. But she only asked for one thing: to speak to Yuto alone.
He came to her, quiet and exhausted.
She sat up, eyes filled with something he didn’t recognize.
“Yuto,” she said softly, “I wasn’t the only one he brought here.”
He froze. “What do you mean?”
Aya’s voice trembled.
“He summoned someone else. Someone close to you. Someone… he’s twisted worse than himself.”
Yuto’s breath caught in his throat.
“Who?”
Aya looked away.
“Your mother.”
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