The Riftwalker lunged.
Its body stretched like liquid shadow and flame, covering the distance between them in the blink of an eye. Time slowed. Ethan's breath caught in his chest as the creature's claw neared, aiming to shred him in half.
But something inside him snapped.
A surge of heat exploded from his wrist. The Beastmark, dormant and quiet for so long, burst to life—veins of light raced across his skin like lightning, forming glowing runes that pulsed with ancient power. Ethan's blade, once ordinary steel, ignited with a black fire that howled in his ears.
CLANG!
Ethan's sword met the Riftwalker's claw in a clash of fire and fury.
The shockwave knocked the others back. Malric's barrier shattered. Lira and Sayen stumbled, barely regaining their footing. Dren let out a breathless grunt as he rose to one knee, blood on his lip.
Ethan held his ground.
For a moment, he and the Riftwalker were locked in a violent stalemate, blade against claw, power against power. The Riftwalker's face twisted, its glowing core flaring.
"You... awaken," it hissed, its voice echoing directly into Ethan's mind.
Ethan gritted his teeth and pushed back with everything he had. "What are you?! Why do you know me?!"
The creature smiled—if the twisting of that monstrous face could be called a smile. "You bear the First Mark. Your blood calls to the void."
Ethan shouted and struck. With unnatural strength, he slashed upward, cleaving through the creature's arm. It shrieked in pain, a sound like molten steel tearing through flesh, and staggered back.
"Ethan!" Lira called out. "The Rift! It's destabilizing!"
He turned. The air around them shimmered. The terrain cracked and crumbled as the Rift pulsed erratically. Mana veins erupted from the ground like roots, lashing the air with magical distortion.
"We need to move!" Malric shouted, throwing up another barrier to shield the group from falling debris.
But the Riftwalker wasn't done.
The severed arm dissolved, and from the stump grew new shadowy tendrils, each one tipped with burning claws. "You are not yet worthy," it said, its voice now a growl. "But the mark remembers. The void remembers."
Ethan narrowed his eyes. The runes on his skin were fading, the mark retreating slowly as if exhausted. Whatever had awoken inside him—it was temporary.
And the creature knew it.
The Riftwalker surged again. Ethan raised his sword, but he was slower this time. The mark's power no longer surged through him. His swing lacked the divine speed from moments before.
But then, Sayen's arrow found its mark.
It struck the creature's glowing core, staggering it. In that split second, Lira leapt forward and slashed at its legs, forcing it to fall to one knee. Dren roared and charged, delivering a brutal blow to its side.
"Ethan! Move!" Malric shouted, pointing toward the Rift. "We're out of time!"
The entire Rift was cracking like glass.
Ethan backed away from the beast, heart pounding. "We leave—NOW!"
As one, the team sprinted for the exit point.
The Riftwalker snarled and slammed its claws into the ground. The terrain around them exploded. Fire and darkness surged as the creature let out a final, furious roar.
Ethan looked back one last time.
The Riftwalker wasn't chasing them.
It was watching him.
"Your blood will awaken the gate."
Then it was swallowed by the collapsing Rift.
Ethan and his team dived through the breach just before the dimensional tear snapped shut like a book slammed closed.
---
Back in the real world...
They emerged coughing, covered in ash, eyes wide with shock.
Ethan collapsed to his knees, trembling. His hands were burned. His arms bruised. But he was alive.
"We made it," Malric breathed, helping Sayen sit down.
"Barely," Lira added. Her eyes were locked on Ethan.
The others looked at him too.
They had seen what he did. The black fire. The glowing marks. The voice.
Dren broke the silence. "That thing... it was talking to you."
Ethan said nothing.
"Your arm," Sayen whispered, pointing.
The Beastmark still glowed faintly beneath his skin, as if reluctant to vanish completely.
"What the hell are you, Ethan?"
"I don't know," he muttered.
But the Riftwalker did.
---
Later that night...
Ethan sat alone in the debriefing chamber, a cold crystal of water untouched beside him. Juno entered, her boots echoing on the stone floor.
"No one your rank should have survived that," she said.
Ethan didn't look up. "I shouldn't have."
She placed a small file on the table. "This Rift wasn't random. It wasn't even natural. It was summoned."
Ethan's head snapped up. "By who?"
Juno's expression darkened. "That's what I intend to find out. But this... this goes beyond guild politics. Beyond borders."
Ethan clenched his fists. "That thing knew me. It spoke like it had met me before."
"It knew your bloodline," Juno said softly. "The Beastmark didn't appear on you by accident, Ethan."
He stared at her, heart pounding. "You knew."
"I suspected," she replied. "The Guild has records of the First Mark. The original bearer... was a hunter who nearly brought down the Rift Wars a century ago. Until he vanished."
"And now his descendant wears the same mark."
Juno nodded. "We'll need to hide you. Train you. Because if the enemy knows you're alive…"
"They'll come for me."
"No," she said. "They'll come for the power you haven't unlocked yet."
---