"My lord..."
Captain Darius' voice barely rose above the groaning of the Citadel.
"What have we awakened?"
No one answered.
The crimson fissure continued to widen, though not by much. It seemed to struggle against something unseen, as if countless invisible chains still held it beneath the stone.
The deep voice did not speak again.
Instead, the silence that followed became heavier than any sound.
Every man in the chamber felt it.
The Black Blades remained kneeling with their heads bowed, their swords resting against the marble floor. They neither attacked nor defended themselves. It was as though they had forgotten the battle entirely.
Captain Darius exchanged a wary glance with Ellis.
"I don't like this."
"You shouldn't," Veyra replied.
The sphere of darkness hovering above the broken seal drifted lower until it floated only a few feet above the crimson light.
"The First Gate has not opened."
Its voice echoed through the chamber.
"It has only remembered."
The words drew more confusion than clarity.
Lyra lowered her bow only slightly.
"What does that even mean?"
Before the sphere could answer, Garron groaned.
Supported by Merek, the wounded veteran struggled to his feet, one hand pressed against his bruised ribs.
"I've had enough of voices."
He spat blood onto the floor.
"Tell us what we're fighting."
The darkness became still.
"You fight time."
The answer left every soldier staring in silence.
Captain Darius frowned.
"I preferred the assassins."
A faint smile crossed Veyra's face despite the tension.
"So did I."
The moment lasted only seconds.
Without warning, one of the kneeling Black Blades screamed.
His body arched violently.
Dark veins spread across his neck beneath the iron mask.
Another assassin cried out.
Then another.
One by one, every kneeling warrior began trembling uncontrollably.
"What is happening to them?" Ellis asked.
The sphere answered quietly.
"They offered themselves."
The first assassin ripped off his iron mask.
His face had changed.
Black cracks crawled across his skin like shattered porcelain. His eyes had become completely crimson, devoid of pupils.
He let out an inhuman roar.
Then charged.
"Shields!" Darius shouted.
The transformed assassin struck Captain Darius' shield with enough force to drive the veteran backward several steps.
The impact echoed like a battering ram.
"Gods..."
Darius gritted his teeth.
"He's stronger."
The remaining assassins rose together.
None of them spoke.
None showed fear.
Their movements had become unnaturally precise, almost mechanical.
"They're not themselves anymore," Lyra whispered.
"No."
I raised my sword.
"They're being controlled."
Three assassins rushed forward.
Ellis intercepted one while Merek engaged another.
The third came straight for me.
Our blades met.
His strength had doubled.
Each strike carried enough force to numb my arm.
He fought without hesitation, without fatigue, without instinct for survival.
Only purpose.
I ducked beneath a horizontal slash and drove my shoulder into his chest.
He stumbled.
But instead of falling—
He smiled.
The black cracks spreading across his skin glowed crimson.
Then his body exploded.
The blast threw all of us backward.
Fragments of black crystal embedded themselves in the surrounding pillars.
Smoke filled the chamber.
Lyra coughed violently.
"What was that?"
The sphere drifted away from the smoke.
"They have become vessels."
Veyra narrowed her eyes.
"Vessels for what?"
No answer came.
The remaining assassins attacked simultaneously.
Captain Darius barked orders with practiced authority.
"Ellis! Left flank!"
"Merek, with me!"
"Lyra, keep your distance!"
The soldiers responded instantly.
Steel rang through the chamber once more.
Ellis held his ground against two opponents despite a bleeding shoulder.
Merek fought with astonishing speed, his twin blades weaving through narrow openings in his enemies' defense.
Lyra's arrows struck true, forcing assassins back whenever they threatened to overwhelm the line.
Watching them fight, I realized something.
These weren't ordinary soldiers.
They had served under Veyra for years.
Every movement complemented another.
Every retreat became someone else's advance.
They fought as one.
The chamber shook again.
Dust poured from the ceiling.
Small pieces of stone crashed around us.
Captain Darius looked upward.
"This place won't hold much longer."
A deafening horn echoed through the Citadel.
Once.
Then twice.
Veyra froze.
Her expression hardened.
"That's the southern signal."
Darius looked at her.
"The walls?"
She nodded slowly.
"They've fallen."
Silence swept through the chamber.
Every soldier understood what that meant.
Thousands of enemy troops would soon flood the capital.
Ellis cursed beneath his breath.
"We're trapped."
"No," Veyra answered.
"We're surrounded."
The distinction did little to improve anyone's mood.
The sphere suddenly brightened.
Its dark surface rippled like disturbed water.
"The Keeper must descend."
I looked toward it.
"Descend where?"
It drifted toward the widening fissure.
"There."
Captain Darius stepped in front of me.
"Absolutely not."
The veteran planted his shield firmly against the floor.
"We don't even know what that thing is."
"It speaks the truth," the sphere replied.
"Or enough of it."
Darius wasn't convinced.
"Convenient."
The sphere ignored him.
"If the Gate opens fully..."
"It cannot be closed by steel."
"It cannot be closed by armies."
"It remembers only one oath."
My mask began burning again.
The pain forced me to one knee.
Memories flashed before my eyes.
A hall of white stone.
Rows of masked warriors standing shoulder to shoulder.
A dragon's shadow passing overhead.
Then a voice—
Not the one from the Gate.
Another.
Older.
Clearer.
"A Keeper does not guard kingdoms."
"A Keeper guards what lies beyond them."
The vision vanished.
I gasped for breath.
Veyra knelt beside me.
"What did you see?"
I looked toward the crimson fissure.
"I think..."
"I've been here before."
Before anyone could respond, a sharp whistle echoed from the corridor.
An arrow flew through the broken doorway.
It struck Captain Darius squarely in the chest.
The impact staggered him backward.
"Darius!" Lyra screamed.
The captain looked down.
The arrow had pierced his breastplate—
But not his heart.
He snapped the shaft in half and raised his shield again.
"It'll take more than that."
Laughter echoed from outside.
Slow.
Confident.
Heavy footsteps followed.
Unlike the silent movement of the Black Blades, these announced themselves deliberately.
A towering figure appeared in the entrance.
He wore black armor covered in deep crimson markings.
Across his back rested a massive executioner's sword.
Unlike the assassins, he wore no mask.
His scarred face bore a cruel smile.
His gaze swept across the chamber before settling on me.
"So..."
His voice rumbled like distant thunder.
"The Keeper finally shows himself."
The remaining Black Blades immediately lowered their weapons and stepped aside.
Not out of fear.
Out of respect.
The giant rested his sword on one shoulder.
"My name is Voren."
"The First Fang of Kaelen."
He smiled wider.
"And I've been looking forward to meeting you."
The chamber fell silent.
For the first time since entering the Citadel...
The battle had brought them not an assassin...
But a commander.