The spire groaned under the weight of corrupted magic as alarms howled through the Obsidian Wastes. The Hollow Flame Cult had come—not to conquer, but to unseal what had been long forgotten.
Ash descended the grand stairwell like a shadow sliding through the dark, his black cloak swirling behind him. As he moved, symbols on the walls awakened—ancient safeguards, reacting to the presence of the Supreme Being.
In the lower hall, Monish and Shivam were preparing their squads—elite Transmitters armed with divine-forged relics.
Monish looked up. "They're faster than we predicted."
"They were waiting for me to break the seal," Ash said grimly. "They've been watching since my return."
Shivam tightened his grip on his spear. "We're ready. Just say the word."
Before Ash could respond, the temperature dropped.
From the shadows beyond the western gate came a fire not of heat, but of hunger—blue-black flames licking the very fabric of the air. They consumed without light. Without ash. Without mercy.
A figure walked through it—a tall, emaciated man with a crown of antlers and hollow, glowing eyes. His presence stilled the wind itself.
"Supreme Being," the figure said, smiling with teeth that looked carved from bone. "I greet you in the name of the First Flame. Do you remember me, I wonder?"
Ash stepped forward. "I do. And I should've erased you completely."
The cultists behind the figure bowed low, chanting in a lost tongue. From their midst emerged a chained, unconscious boy—the silver-haired anomaly Ash had seen in the vision.
"Return him," Ash commanded, his voice shaking the air.
But the antlered man laughed. "You are no longer pure. You have remembered too soon. You are… cracked."
He raised his hand. The boy's body flared with unstable energy—raw divinity threatening to tear through reality. Runes burned into the boy's skin, one by one.
Akarshan appeared beside Ash. "We're out of time."
Ash's eyes ignited. "Then we end this."
He snapped his fingers.
The ground around the cultists exploded with radiant sigils. Divine chains erupted from the stones, seizing limbs and pulling them down with screams of agony.
But the antlered man simply raised a hand—and the divine energy faltered.
"Your power is returning, Supreme One," he whispered. "But not fast enough."
In that instant, the boy's eyes opened—fully awake, fully aware.
And in his gaze, Ash saw something terrifying.
Recognition.
The boy remembered him.
And he was angry.
---