The city never slept. Not really.
From where Kael crouched on the edge of a ruined rooftop, he could see the neon glow of New Avalon bleeding into the night sky, casting sickly purples and greens across the broken towers of the old city. Far below, the streets pulsed with light and life — rune-tech billboards flickering, transport bikes screaming past, Hunters in their armor walking like gods among men.
And above it all, the Gates waited.
Kael swallowed hard, his fingers tightening on the edge of the rooftop. He hated the Gates.
They floated like cracks in the night, jagged holes in the fabric of the world, pulsing with cold, alien light. The closest one—newly opened, still weeping tendrils of black mist—hovered just a few streets over.
And he was too close.
Damn it, he thought, heart pounding. He'd just been trying to scavenge. Another night, another empty stomach. He'd seen the Gate open by chance — a ripple in the air, a hum of power that raised the hairs on his neck. He should've run.
But hunger made you stupid.
Now the Gate loomed, and he could feel it pulling at him, like gravity or fate.
A flicker of movement.
Kael's eyes snapped to a shape stepping out of the mist.
It was tall, wrong, all sharp angles and too-long limbs. Its face was a hollow mask, empty eyes burning with pale blue fire. A Gate-beast.
No. Not tonight.
Kael turned to run — but his foot slipped on loose rubble, and he tumbled down the side of the building, scraping his arms raw as he fell. He hit the ground hard, breath knocked out of him, vision swimming.
The creature turned. It had heard him.
For a moment, Kael could only lie there, gasping. His mind screamed at him to move, but his body wouldn't listen.
The Gate-beast began to stalk toward him, silent as the grave.
Then, as the world seemed to slow, Kael's hand brushed something cold in the dirt.
A pendant.
It looked ancient — a simple disk of black metal, etched with a rune that shimmered faintly violet in the neon light.
Kael didn't know why he grabbed it. Instinct, maybe. Desperation.
The moment his fingers closed around it, the rune flared — bright as lightning — and seared itself into his palm.
Kael cried out, the pain like fire and ice at once. But with the pain came… clarity. Power. A whisper in the back of his mind.
And when he opened his eyes, the world seemed sharper.
The Gate-beast lunged — and Kael moved without thinking, rolling aside, grabbing a rusted pipe as he scrambled to his feet.
The pendant's glow bathed him in strange light. The rune on his palm pulsed in time with his heartbeat.
The Gate-beast hissed, hesitating — as if sensing something had changed.
Kael stood his ground, shaking but defiant.
I don't want to die. Not tonight.
Above them, the Gate crackled. The city lights flickered as the rune's power bled into the world.
And somewhere in the depths of that Gate, something watched. Something that recognized the mark now burned into Kael's flesh.
Tonight, a boy with nothing had claimed his first rune.
And the Gates would never ignore him again.
End of Chapter 1