Morning came with no sun.
The sky over Elaria was grey, covered with heavy clouds that refused to move. The city felt cold. Still. Like the whole kingdom was holding its breath. Word had already spread—what happened yesterday wasn't a rumor anymore.
Kairo Vale lived.
And he was no longer a Void.
He stood alone in the alley behind the blacksmith's shop. The same one that used to throw scraps of bread at him. He didn't feel hungry. He didn't feel tired. His body felt strange, like it wasn't completely his.
His fingers twitched. Shadows moved under his skin again. Small, quick. Then they vanished.
Kairo took a deep breath. The air didn't feel the same. Everything was sharper. Colder. Like the world was warning him.
He pulled up the hood of his torn cloak and walked into the city.
No one dared to block his path.
No guards at the gates. No nobles on the road. Even the drunkards avoided him.
He kept walking, eyes down, pretending like nothing was wrong. But inside, his heart beat fast.
He needed answers.
He didn't care where they came from.
Elaria's main archive tower stood tall at the city's center. Built with white stone, blessed with runes, guarded by magic. Only nobles and scholars were allowed inside.
Kairo had never even touched the gate.
Today, he walked through the front door.
A pair of elder mages looked up from behind their desk, shocked.
"Wait—stop—this is a sacred building!"
Kairo didn't speak. The shadows moved across the floor beneath him. The mages backed away.
He stepped into the main hall. Books lined every wall. Old magic tomes. History scrolls. Forbidden records sealed with wax and curses.
He didn't know where to begin.
A voice came from the shadows of the second floor.
"You have no right to be here."
A young woman stood at the balcony, her silver robes glowing with clean mana. Her staff floated behind her, covered in runes. She looked young, but her eyes were sharp.
Kairo looked up. "I need information."
She frowned. "You're the anomaly."
He didn't answer.
"You broke a sacred spell. Destroyed a divine platform. That magic—what was it?"
"I don't know."
"You lie."
He clenched his fists. The black marks returned, crawling up his wrists.
The woman's staff lit with golden fire.
"Stop," she warned. "That power isn't natural."
Kairo stepped back. "Do you think I asked for this?"
Her voice was cold. "It doesn't matter. If it's cursed, it must be sealed."
"Then come seal it."
The fire on her staff burned brighter. But she didn't move.
Kairo turned toward the records. His fingers scanned the spines of old tomes. Something called to him. A red book. No title. No author.
He opened it.
The pages were made of strange leather, the ink faded. Symbols burned into the paper, not written. As he touched it, the marks on his arm pulsed.
The book reacted.
It flipped its own pages. Stopped at one.
"The Devourers," he read aloud.
The girl's eyes widened. "Don't speak their name."
But Kairo kept reading.
"Ancient entities. Older than mana. Banned by the gods. Born from darkness before light. Known to infect hosts. Known to whisper. Known to consume."
"Their power does not shine. It swallows. It hides. It mimics nothing and becomes everything."
"They do not give magic. They awaken it."
He stopped.
The air around him changed.
Kairo looked down at his arms. The shadows were crawling again, slow and smooth. Like they heard the name. Like they were listening.
"One known case appeared during the Crimson War—sealed by the Seven Saints."
"The host's name was erased from history."
Kairo closed the book.
The girl spoke again. "You're touched by one."
He didn't reply.
"Why didn't the crystal detect it?" she asked. "Why did it stay hidden all these years?"
"I don't know."
She walked down the stairs. "You're dangerous."
"I didn't ask to be."
She stood in front of him now. Close. Her mana flared. "You're not supposed to exist."
Kairo looked at her. "I'm starting to hear that a lot."
The book in his hand shook. Then burned. It turned to ash in seconds, as if something destroyed it from within.
The fire didn't spread. It only took the book.
The girl stepped back. "It doesn't want to be known."
"I noticed."
Silence.
Finally, she lowered her staff.
"Leave," she said. "Before they send someone stronger."
Kairo stared at her. "What's your name?"
She didn't answer.
He turned and walked toward the exit.
She called out, "That thing inside you—it's not a blessing."
He paused. "Maybe not."
"It will consume you."
"Maybe," he said. "But right now, it's the only thing keeping me alive."
Then he walked into the cold streets of Elaria again.
Night fell fast.
Kairo sat on the roof of a broken house, watching the stars fade behind black clouds. His body ached. His mind spun.
He had no answers.
Just more questions.
He didn't know what this power really was.
Didn't know why it chose him.
Didn't know how long it would let him stay in control.
But one thing was clear now.
This wasn't normal magic.
This wasn't a gift from the gods.
This wasn't something anyone could help him with.
It was older than anything in the kingdom.
And now it was his.