Ethan collapsed to the stone floor, gasping. The last image burned into his mind—the man with the same mark, same blue eyes, yet twisted with something darker. Cruelty. Power. A version of him… if everything went wrong.
Kael knelt beside him. "Ethan! Say something!"
"I saw him," Ethan muttered, clutching his chest. The pain had dulled, but the mark still pulsed, glowing faintly through his shirt. "He looks like me. But he's not me."
Kael's jaw tensed. "What did that thing do to you?"
"It showed me the future." Ethan's voice was hoarse. "Or a future. That being… the first Beastmarked. He wasn't warning me. He was passing it on. I think he gave me his memories. His essence."
Kael helped him to his feet. "You sure you can stand?"
"No," Ethan said honestly. "But we need to get out of here."
They turned to leave, but the moment they stepped outside the tomb, the world had changed.
The sky, once clear and deep purple with dusk, was now a violent crimson. Black clouds churned in spirals. And in the distance, a Rift had opened—a gaping wound in the air, pulsing like a heartbeat.
A creature emerged.
It was like a wolf, but stretched and distorted, with six legs, too many eyes, and bone armor growing from its spine. Around it, other shapes slithered into view. Smaller beasts, hunched and clawed, crawling from the Rift like locusts.
"They're breaching," Kael said, voice low. "The Rift's leaking."
"No," Ethan said. "It's reacting to me."
As if summoned by his words, the largest beast threw back its head and howled—straight at them.
"Move!" Kael grabbed Ethan's arm and they ran—up the canyon, past the rocky outcrop, back toward Zeila.
They crested the rise and found her standing with her arms crossed, glaring at the sky.
"Well, that's new," she muttered. "You two didn't happen to piss off the universe, did you?"
"Just woke up an ancient being and might've triggered a Rift breach," Kael said breathlessly.
Zeila whistled. "Ah. Just another Tuesday, then."
More creatures poured out of the Rift, and the earth beneath them rumbled with unnatural tremors. Zeila pulled a blade from her back—long and curved, glowing faintly.
"Desert's cursed now," she muttered. "We've got to ride. Fast."
They mounted the lizard-beasts, and Zeila kicked hers hard. "We ride for the Iron Sanctuary. It's the only place with walls strong enough to hold them back."
As they rode, Ethan turned back once.
The Rift in the sky expanded further. And in the center of it, a silhouette hovered.
Humanoid.
Watching.
Ethan's blood turned to ice.
It was him. Or the man who looked like him. The smile widened, like he could see Ethan from across the horizon.
"You're not ready," a voice whispered inside Ethan's head. It was the voice from the tomb.
"Not yet."
---
They reached the Iron Sanctuary just before dawn. It was a fortress built into the side of a cliff—massive iron gates and towers forged from scrap and old Hunter tech. Its soldiers were already mobilized, cannons trained on the skies, Hunters armed and tense.
As Ethan passed through the gates, something inside him snapped.
A surge of energy flared from his chest.
Everyone stopped.
His mark glowed openly now, brighter than ever before. And whispers erupted among the Hunters watching.
"He's marked."
"That's not just a Hunter."
"That's him."
Kael stepped between them and Ethan, glaring. "He's not the enemy."
The head of the Iron Sanctuary, a stern woman with silver hair and a spear longer than she was tall, approached. Her gaze locked onto Ethan.
"You're the one they've been whispering about."
"I didn't ask for this," Ethan said.
"No one ever does," she replied. "But you've brought the Rift to our doorstep. You'll help close it."
He nodded.
Because there was no other choice.
But as the day began to break, Ethan couldn't stop thinking of that face in the sky.
The man who wore his eyes.
The enemy only he might be able to stop.