Everything stopped.
The rain.
The wind.
Even sound itself.
Kael stood frozen inside the underground tunnel.
A silver light surrounded Lyra.
Beautiful.
Ancient.
Terrifying.
Above her head floated a glowing hourglass.
The symbol of the Time Throne.
Nobody moved.
Nobody dared to.
The priest’s face had become completely pale.
One of the Church soldiers whispered:
“Impossible…”
Another immediately fell to his knees.
“A Throne Candidate…”
Kael looked between them.
“What does that mean?”
The priest swallowed.
His voice trembled.
“It means the Time Throne has acknowledged her existence.”
Kael frowned.
“Acknowledged?”
The priest nodded.
“Most Throne Holders inherit power.”
“Candidates are different.”
“Candidates are chosen.”
Silence.
Kael’s stomach tightened.
If Lyra had been chosen…
Then Orion already knew.
The realization hit him like lightning.
The Time Throne Holder had not come for Kael.
He had come for Lyra.
Then—
The silver light vanished.
The rain resumed.
The world started moving again.
Lyra collapsed.
“Lyra!”
Kael caught her before she hit the ground.
Her breathing remained steady.
She was unconscious.
But alive.
The priest exhaled heavily.
“We need to move.”
Nobody argued.
The group continued deeper into the tunnels.
Far above them…
Elaris was dying.
BOOOOOOM!
Another explosion shattered the city.
Draven Ashborn walked through the burning streets.
Alone.
No army.
No guards.
No allies.
He didn’t need them.
Each step left cracks in the earth.
Each breath felt heavier than steel.
Church knights charged him.
Hundreds at once.
Draven barely glanced at them.
Then he swung his sword.
One strike.
That’s all.
A wave of force exploded outward.
Buildings collapsed.
Streets shattered.
Dozens of knights disappeared.
Not wounded.
Not defeated.
Gone.
The survivors fled in terror.
Draven continued walking.
Toward Kael.
Toward destiny itself.
Deep underground.
The group finally reached an abandoned station.
Ancient stone pillars lined the chamber.
Dust covered everything.
The priest stopped.
“This is as far as we go.”
Kael looked around.
“What now?”
The priest opened an old map.
“There is another city beyond the northern mountains.”
“Velkar.”
“They may shelter you.”
Kael nodded.
Before he could respond—
The voices returned.
Suddenly.
Violently.
Thousands of screams erupted inside his head.
Kael dropped to one knee.
Pain exploded through his skull.
The dead were screaming.
Warning him.
Begging him.
Terrifying him.
Images flashed before his eyes.
Corpses.
Blood.
Broken armor.
A battlefield.
Then—
One image remained.
A single dead soldier.
Lying motionless.
Eyes closed.
Dead.
Yet somehow…
The corpse looked directly at Kael.
The vision vanished.
Kael gasped.
“What was that?”
The priest rushed toward him.
“What’s wrong?”
Before Kael could answer—
A sound echoed through the station.
Footsteps.
Slow.
Heavy.
Impossible.
Everyone froze.
The sound grew closer.
Step.
Step.
Step.
One soldier drew his weapon.
Another lit a lantern.
Then they saw it.
A corpse.
A dead Church knight.
Its armor was shattered.
Its body covered in blood.
Half its face missing.
Yet it was walking.
Slowly.
Unnaturally.
The station fell silent.
Nobody breathed.
The corpse stopped.
Its empty eyes turned toward Kael.
Then—
It knelt.
Silence.
Absolute silence.
The dead knight lowered its head.
As if greeting a king.
Crash.
Nobody moved.
Nobody spoke.
The corpse remained kneeling.
Waiting.
Obedient.
Kael’s heart pounded.
“What is happening?”
No answer came.
Then another sound echoed through the darkness.
Step.
Step.
Step.
More corpses emerged.
One.
Three.
Five.
Ten.
Dead soldiers.
Dead civilians.
Dead travelers.
Every corpse in the tunnel system.
Walking.
Moving.
Gathering.
And one by one—
They knelt before Kael.
The station became a graveyard.
An army of the dead.
Bowing before a single person.
The priest stared in horror.
His lips trembled.
“No…”
Kael looked at him.
“What?”
The old man slowly stepped backward.
Fear filled his eyes.
The same fear he had shown on the first day.
“The records…”
“The ancient records…”
Kael clenched his fists.
“What records?”
The priest’s voice cracked.
“The Death Throne doesn’t command death.”
Silence.
Then he whispered the truth.
“It commands what comes after.”
The station grew colder.
The corpses remained kneeling.
Waiting.
Listening.
Obeying.
And for the first time…
Kael understood.
Death wasn’t his power.
Death was his kingdom.
Far away.
At the edge of the continent.
Orion Zephar sat alone beneath the stars.
Golden clocks floated around him.
His eyes remained closed.
Suddenly—
One clock shattered.
Then another.
Then another.
Orion’s eyes snapped open.
Shock covered his face.
For the first time in centuries…
He looked afraid.
Because the future had disappeared.
Not changed.
Disappeared.
As if someone had erased it.
And in every vision he tried to see…
Only one image remained.
A black throne.
And an endless army kneeling before it.
End of Chapter 6