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Chapter 1 – The Gate Remembers

The Black Gate opened the moment I was born.

I wake choking on sweat and the phantom taste of iron, the nightmare still clawing at my mind like a beast desperate to break free. Shadows twist at the edge of my vision, whispering truths I can't decipher—truths I'm not sure I want to.

A voice—low, ancient—called me again.

It didn't just promise the end.

It promised home.

Something flickered in my chest. A warmth that didn't belong. A pulse. Then it vanished.

But I'm still here. For now.

---

The cold light of dawn bleeds through the cracked blinds of my dorm in New Elysium Academy—a city-state cloaked in rust and neon, where the future has teeth and the past won't stay buried. The walls hum with rune-circuits—ancient sigils carved into machine-flesh. Magic here is wired. Tech here is haunted.

I slam a hand against the wall to ground myself, ignoring the faint pulse of the rune embedded on my wrist.

It's not a gift.

It's a warning.

"Cael, you up?"

Lira's voice—sharp, clipped. She's already by the door, black hair tied back, uniform pressed like a blade.

"Yeah," I grunt. "Just… nightmares."

She doesn't ask. Good. Some things aren't meant to be named.

---

Downstairs, Jin paces like a live wire, blond hair a mess, lightning flickering around his hands. Mira sits quietly on the edge of the stair rail, serene as always. Her gaze lingers on me a moment too long—deep, knowing. She heard something.

Maybe she always does.

"The Silarin will be there," Lira says.

"Good," Jin snaps. "Let them try something."

"Diplomacy exists for a reason," Mira murmurs, eyes distant.

"Diplomacy gets you killed," Jin mutters. "So does hesitation."

They bicker. I barely hear it. The dream clings to my thoughts like smoke.

The portal. The pull.

That name in the dark. A sound like grinding stone and dying embers.

It wasn't my name.

---

Portal chamber, 0800 hours.

Obsidian tiles shimmer underfoot. Energy hums beneath us. Runes pulse in layered sequence, forming the Gate's containment loop.

Across the chamber, the Silarin arrive—sleek black uniforms lined with violet, arrogance dressed as elegance. At the front stands Vaelen. Silver hair. Stillness like a blade.

"I see the academy sends its pets," he says.

Jin steps forward. "Say that again, glow-eyes."

I hold him back. Always do.

Vaelen smirks. "Predictable. Like fire—flashy, useless."

"Get singed, then," Lira replies coolly.

Behind Vaelen, Thyrr broods like a thundercloud, while Seris watches without emotion. She's the most dangerous of them all—because she doesn't bother to judge.

"This is synergy testing," Vaelen says, voice low. "Let's see if your team understands the word before something tears your lungs out."

Portal countdown: 30 seconds.

"We'll survive," I say. "Whether you limp back is another matter."

A single chuckle from Thyrr. No one else laughs.

---

Above, the observation deck flickers with movement.

"Instructors," Lira murmurs.

Verren stands at center—crimson coat, gold runes etched like veins across the sleeves. Stillness wrapped in menace.

Beside him, Rhovan leans on the rail—one arm biomechanical, its runes twitching like nerves. His eyes rake the team like a scalpel.

Two masked figures flank them. Silent. Watching.

---

Observation Deck:

"They're not ready," Rhovan mutters.

"They don't need to be," Verren replies. "We're not testing the team. We're watching for the fracture's echo."

"You still think it's him?"

"I don't think," Verren says, gaze locked on me below. "I remember. He dreams in runes. The Gate knew him before he was born."

"The Twin Soul project was sealed."

"So was the Gate. And yet…"

He exhales slowly. "Here we are."

---

A chill runs down my spine. Something in the air shifts—like I've been marked.

"They're scouting," Mira whispers beside me, voice tight.

"Scouting for what?" Jin growls.

"Not what," she says. "Who."

She knows. She read the records, stolen from her mother's sealed logs. The Death Breach. The twin soul prophecy. A child born the day the last Gate opened.

Me.

5 seconds.

A masked observer tilts their head—toward me.

Not my name.

Me.

1.

We fall.

---

No sky. No stars. Just a swirling wound of gray and violet, like the world forgot how to hold itself together. The runes in the earth breathe.

"This isn't a test site," Lira whispers, blades already drawn.

Vaelen narrows his eyes. "We're not alone."

Movement. Ridge, northeast.

Four-legged. Twisted.

"Gateborn hounds," someone mutters.

No.

I see it before the others. The split jaws. Black veins. Wrongness like rot.

"Not hounds," Mira breathes. "Nullspawn."

---

The air breaks with a howl.

"Formation!" Thyrr roars.

A shield slams down. Jin hurls lightning—too slow. Too soft. One beast staggers. Reforms. Snaps its own neck back into place.

"Not normal!" Lira barks. Her blade flashes. A creature falls—then twitches back to its feet.

Mira slams her staff down. Reversed runes erupt—null-space pulses outward. One creature convulses.

"These were human," she says. "Once."

Ten of them now. Maybe more.

I drop to one knee.

The warmth in my chest returns—hot, primal, old.

Not the academy brand.

The other one.

I touch the ground.

It breaks.

A dark surge lances outward. Two Nullspawn collapse into nothing.

Everything halts.

Eyes turn to me.

Not rage.

Recognition.

"Cael…"

The whisper rides the wind.

Jin stares, stunned. "Where the hell did you learn that?"

"I didn't," I whisper. "I just… remembered."

---

Then the shadow crests the ridge.

Massive. Runed armor cracked and blackened. A spear of obsidian in its grip. Its face ruined, but something behind it watches.

"Fall back!" Thyrr shouts.

Too late.

The portal flares—unstable. Behind us, Verren and Rhovan drop in.

Ice and fire slam into the Nullspawn.

"MOVE!" Rhovan roars. "The portal's converting! Black Gate tether detected!"

My blood runs cold.

The Black Gate.

Vaelen grabs my arm. Jin plants his shield. The pull begins.

This isn't a retreat.

It's a rewrite.

We fall again.

Not into another world.

Into something beneath it.

The last thing I see is Verren's face.

Not fear.

Regret.

---

🧨 END OF CHAPTER 1

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