(POV: Ava)
There are moments when the world holds its breath.
I felt it the moment my foot touched the bridge. The air didn't stir. The birds didn't cry. Even the mist held back—coiling like it was afraid to crawl any closer.
Kael stood at my side, every muscle in his body pulled tight, like a bowstring on the edge of snapping. His hand was still wrapped around mine. I didn't know if he needed it—or if I did. Maybe both.
Across from us, the thing waited.
Tall. Inhumanly still. Skin like bleached wax stretched over bone. And eyes—no, voids—staring straight into me. It didn't blink. It didn't move.
But I felt it smile.
And in that instant, I knew.
This was no scout. No beast or cursed wanderer.
This was a god of death.
An origin.
The First One.
***
"Don't speak to it," Kael said under his breath. "Don't answer. Don't think. If it gets inside your mind—"
He didn't finish.
Because the thing did something that made my stomach turn inside out.
It took a step forward.
Just one.
And the ground cracked beneath its foot like the bones of something ancient breaking apart. The sky above it darkened—not just the color, but the light. The heat. It was like this thing pulled the sun into itself and drank it.
I felt Kael tense beside me.
"We run on my mark," he whispered.
But I couldn't run. My feet wouldn't move. My chest was tight, lungs frozen. Every instinct screamed to flee—and yet I stood there, trembling.
And then—it spoke.
Not out loud.
Not with a voice.
But inside my mind.
"You carry him, little flame."
The words echoed like screams through my skull. I gasped and dropped to my knees. Kael caught me instantly, his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close.
"Don't listen to it!" he barked.
"He belongs to us. You are not meant to hold onto what breaks the order. Give him back… and I will let you go."
Kael's body went still. He looked at me.
"You heard it," he said. Not a question.
I nodded, trembling. "What does it mean? You—'belong' to it?"
He looked away. His jaw clenched. "I told you… I was made."
"You said you were infected."
He shook his head. "Not infected. Chosen."
"Claimed," the voice corrected inside me. "He was ours. Until you."
***
I stood. Rage and terror twisted together inside me, my fists trembling.
"No," I said aloud. "You don't get to take him."
Kael stared at me like I was insane. Maybe I was. I didn't care.
"I'm done running. Done being afraid. You want him? You come through me."
The First One stopped.
For the first time… it blinked.
Then the smile disappeared.
The temperature dropped so fast I could see my breath. The ground trembled. Cracks split through the asphalt of the bridge beneath our feet, crawling toward us like veins of rot.
And then—
It screamed.
Not with a mouth. Not with a sound.
But with everything.
The world shook. The glass from buildings exploded in the distance. My ears rang, my skull throbbed, and Kael pulled me into his chest, shielding me with his body.
"Run," he growled.
"No."
"Ava, run!"
But I didn't move.
Because I saw Kael's eyes change.
Red—yes. But deeper. Brighter. Like molten light cracking through shadow. His body arched backward, a cry escaping his throat as the veins along his skin flared.
His voice dropped. Became layered.
"I won't go back," he growled—not to me. To it.
Then he moved.
I've never seen anything like what Kael became in that moment.
He didn't turn into a monster. He didn't lose himself.
He became something else. Something in between.
Light and shadow. Man, and beast. Rage and sorrow.
He leapt at the First One with a roar that split the sky, blade drawn in a blur of red steel. The First One answered in silence—its body melting and shifting, tendrils lashing out like blades.
They collided in the center of the bridge.
Sparks flew. Stone cracked. Mist screamed.
Kael was fast—but the First was faster. Still, he held his own. He fought, his movements brutal, fluid, born of pain and memory. Each strike sang with defiance. Every dodge was sharpened by desperation.
But the First One didn't bleed. It didn't tire.
Kael did.
And I could see it—he wasn't going to win.
Unless—
Unless I helped.
***
I ran toward them.
I don't know why. I didn't think. I just moved. Picked up a shattered pipe and hurled it at the creature.
It didn't flinch.
But it noticed.
For the first time, it looked away from Kael—just for a second.
And in that second, Kael drove his blade through its chest.
A sound burst from the creature—not pain. Surprise.
Its body spasmed, black liquid oozing from the wound. It hissed—then vanished. Not exploded. Not died.
Just… disappeared. Like smoke sucked back into the mist.
***
Kael collapsed.
I ran to him, dropped beside him on the cracked asphalt, my hands pressing to his chest. His breathing was shallow. His skin was ice.
"Kael—Kael stay with me—!"
He opened his eyes. Barely.
"You… shouldn't have done that," he rasped.
"You shouldn't have tried to face it alone," I snapped through tears.
He laughed—a broken sound. "We're both idiots."
"Yeah. But I think I'm worse."
"Why?"
"Because I'm falling for the monster."
Silence.
Then Kael reached up and touched my cheek, his fingers rough, trembling.
"I'm not a monster, Ava."
I held his hand to my face. "Then prove it."
And for one moment—one impossible, fragile moment—he leaned in, and I met him halfway. Our lips touched. Soft. Hesitant.
Real.
For that second, the world didn't matter. The sky. The bridge. The mist.
Only us.
Only this.
When we pulled apart, I whispered, "You're still human to me."
And he whispered back, "Then maybe there's still hope."