The Council chamber had no windows.
There had never been a need for them.
Nothing outside was worth looking at.
Tonight, however, every screen in the room displayed the same image.
A black circle.
At its center was a single white line.
It pulsed once every seven seconds.
Nobody spoke.
Nine people sat around the circular table.
Eight of them watched the screens.
The ninth watched Cairos.
Councilor Maeron Voss had been the oldest man in the chamber for longer than most of the others had been alive.
His left eye was covered by a polished black lens.
A thin scar ran from beneath it to the corner of his mouth, pulling his lips slightly upward whenever he spoke.
He tapped one finger against the table.
“How long has the signal been active?” “Twenty-three minutes,” a technician answered.
“And it hasn’t weakened?” “No, Councilor.” Voss leaned back.
“Then the reading is wrong.” Cairos stood at the opposite end of the room.
“It isn’t.” Every head turned toward him.
Voss’s uncovered eye settled on Cairos.
“You seem very certain.” “I am.” “Explain.” Cairos looked at the screen.
“The Abyss isn’t reacting to an external disturbance.” He paused.
“It’s reacting to someone.” Silence filled the chamber.
One of the younger Council members scoffed.
“Impossible.” Cairos didn’t look at him.
“We’ve recorded Abyssal fluctuations for eighty-six years.
We’ve never seen a pattern like this.” Voss folded his hands.
“Then perhaps you should explain the pattern.” Cairos hesitated.
He already knew what would happen if he told them everything.
He also knew what would happen if he didn’t.
“The signal appeared after Kael entered.” Nobody moved.
Voss’s finger stopped tapping.
“Say his name again.” “Kael.” The word seemed to make the room colder.
Serah stood near the wall, arms folded across her chest.
She had said nothing since entering.
Voss looked at her.
“You were there when he disappeared.” Serah’s eyes narrowed.
“I was.” “Did you see him die?” “No.” “Did you see his body?” “No.” “Then why did we spend seven years believing he was dead?” Serah glanced at Cairos.
He looked away.
Voss noticed.
Of course he did.
“Interesting.” He pressed a button.
The main screen changed.
A file appeared.
SUBJECT K-07 Beneath it: STATUS: DECEASED Then another line appeared.
STATUS ERROR.
The room went silent.
Voss stared at the contradiction.
“Change his classification.” A technician swallowed.
“To what?” Voss looked toward Cairos.
Cairos already knew the answer.
“Unknown.” THE ABYSS Kael walked.
There was no road.
He made one.
Each step sank into the black ground before disappearing.
Shade followed behind him.
For several minutes, neither spoke.
Then Shade stopped.
Kael noticed immediately.
“What?” Shade pointed ahead.
Kael followed its finger.
Nothing.
At least, nothing he could see.
He continued forward.
Shade grabbed his arm.
Kael turned sharply.
“Don’t.” Shade’s grip tightened.
Kael looked at the creature’s face.
Fear.
It was the first time he had seen it.
Not imitation.
Not curiosity.
Fear.
“What do you see?” Shade pointed again.
This time Kael looked harder.
The darkness ahead was moving.
Not physically.
It was bending.
As though something enormous existed behind it and the world itself was struggling to contain its shape.
Kael slowly reached for his weapon.
“Stay behind me.” Shade released his arm.
Kael took another step.
The darkness immediately stopped moving.
Then a voice whispered through the Abyss.
Not from ahead.
Not from behind.
From everywhere.
“You came back.” Kael froze.
He had heard that voice before.
His memories were still incomplete, but something inside him recognized it.
His heart began beating faster.
“Who are you?” Nothing answered.
Then the ground beneath his feet cracked.
A thin line of white light appeared.
Kael stared down.
The light spread across the ground, forming symbols.
Words.
He couldn’t read them.
But Shade could.
The creature dropped to its knees.
Kael looked at it.
“Shade?” The creature whispered: “Home.” Kael’s expression changed.
“This is your home?” Shade shook its head.
Then pointed downward.
Kael understood.
“No.” His voice became quieter.
“Not your home.” The symbols beneath them shifted.
One sentence appeared.
THE PRISON IS OPENING.
Kael stared at it.
Then another sentence appeared.
THE PRISONER HAS REMEMBERED HIS NAME.
Kael’s blood ran cold.
“Who?” The Abyss answered.
“You.” THE WORLD ABOVE An alarm screamed through the Council facility.
Red lights flooded the corridor.
Serah immediately drew her weapon.
“What happened?” A technician ran toward them.
“We lost contact with Sector Seven!” Cairos stepped forward.
“How?” “The entire observation network went offline.” Voss remained calm.
“Bring it back.” “We can’t.” “Why?” The technician looked terrified.
“Because something is using the network.” The lights went out.
Every screen in the facility turned black.
Then one by one, they came back.
Not with the Abyssal readings.
Not with the Council’s security system.
With a video.
A man appeared on the first screen.
Blood covered his face.
His clothes were torn.
He was sitting in darkness.
Serah’s expression changed.
Cairos stepped closer.
“No…” Voss stood.
The man on the screen looked directly into the camera.
His lips moved.
The audio came through as static.
Then, finally— “…Cairos.” Cairos stopped breathing.
The man coughed.
“You’re going to hate me for this.” The screen flickered.
For half a second, something appeared behind him.
A shape.
Too tall.
Too thin.
Watching.
The image stabilized.
The man continued.
“The twelve of us weren’t being hunted.” Cairos’s face hardened.
“We were being…” Static swallowed the rest of the sentence.
The transmission returned.
The man’s eyes were wide.
“…herded.” The screen went black.
Nobody spoke.
Then a second transmission appeared.
Different location.
Different camera.
Same man.
But this time, he was standing.
His voice was barely audible.
“There’s something you never told us about Kael.” Cairos whispered: “Riven.” Riven looked directly into the camera.
“The Abyss didn’t take him seven years ago.” A pause.
“It was trying to keep something else from getting out.” The transmission ended.
THE ABYSS Kael stood completely still.
Shade was staring at him.
“Something else?” Kael looked at the symbols beneath his feet.
The Abyss had called him the prisoner.
But that wasn’t what frightened him.
It was the implication.
If Kael was the prisoner…
Then what had he been trying to free?
A sound came from beneath the ground.
One heartbeat.
Deep.
Massive.
The Abyss trembled.
Kael slowly raised his head.
Far in the distance, something opened its eyes.
Two white points appeared in the darkness.
Shade moved in front of Kael.
Kael stepped beside it.
For the first time, they stood together without either one copying the other.
Kael tightened his grip.
“Whatever you are…” The darkness began to split.
“…you’re not getting out.” A notification appeared.
ABYSSAL AUTHORITY: 5% MEMORY RESTORATION: 18% Then another message appeared beneath them.
One Kael had never seen before.
PRISON INTEGRITY: 91% The number dropped.
90%.
Kael’s eyes narrowed.
89%.
Shade looked toward the darkness.
Kael finally understood.
The Abyss wasn’t testing him.
It was losing control.
And somewhere beneath them…
something was waking up.
88%.
87%.
Kael smiled.
Not because he wasn’t afraid.
Because he finally had a reason to stay.
“Let’s see what you’ve been hiding.” The Abyss shook.
And for the first time since Kael had entered it— something screamed.
But mystery doesn’t mean nothing is happening.
Kael made his choice at the end of Chapter 10.
Now the world has to deal with the consequences.
And Riven…
Well.
Maybe disappearing wasn’t the same thing as dying.