The weight of realization settled over me like a thick fog. We weren't sent here because of a formal request. The Organization deployed us because someone—some unknown local—reported strange essence fluctuations. That meant the clan never intended to involve outsiders.
Which meant someone had gone behind their backs.
I tightened my grip on my swords, scanning the chamber with fresh eyes. The veins of unstable essence pulsed in chaotic patterns along the stone, the domain's energy thrashing like a wounded beast. This wasn't just a collapsing domain—it was resisting.
Nel was already moving. "Double-check your gear. If we've been set up, we need to assume the worst."
Zach's jaw was tense, his usual calm laced with something sharper. "The clan leader isn't lying. He didn't expect us."
Amir exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders. "So, the real question is… who did?"
Before I could answer, the clan leader took a step forward, his voice heavy. "You don't understand what this place is. This chamber—it isn't just some random altar." He gestured to the veins of essence lining the walls, his fingers trembling slightly. "This is a tomb. Every clan leader before me—every warrior who helped carve our name into history—rests beneath our feet."
Deya's eyes narrowed. "A tomb? Then why the hell does it feel like a battlefield?"
The old man hesitated. Then, after a long breath, he spoke again. "Because it's also a training ground. A sacred space where our strongest have come for generations to break their limits… to awaken their domains."
That got everyone's attention.
I exchanged a look with Zach. Awakening a domain—fully reaching Level 3—was rare, difficult, and dangerous. It wasn't something that could be forced, yet entire clans had spent centuries trying to perfect the process. If this place had been used for that purpose for generations…
Then they were playing with something far beyond their control.
"The entrance," I muttered, stepping closer to the runes. I ran my fingers just above the surface, careful not to touch. "It's been tampered with."
The clan leader's expression darkened. "What are you suggesting?"
"Someone wanted to kill him before he could fully understand Level 3," Nel said before I could even finish my sentence.
A second pulse rippled through the chamber, stronger this time. The veins of essence along the walls flared bright, casting jagged shadows across the stone. The temperature dropped, a biting cold creeping into my skin.
Something was waking up.
Nel drew her weapon in a single, fluid motion. "Positions. Now."
We spread out instinctively, forming a loose perimeter around the altar. Zach's domain flickered to life, a faint distortion bending the air around him. Amir spun a knife between his fingers, his usual grin replaced with something sharper, more focused. Deya kept close to the clan leader, eyes scanning the darkened corners of the chamber.
The clan leader stepped back, his face pale. "This… this isn't supposed to happen."
Zach didn't look away from the altar. "Yeah? Well, a lot of things aren't supposed to happen."
The air thickened, pressing against my chest like an unseen weight. The unstable runes along the floor pulsed erratically, no longer just flickering but shifting—rearranging.
That's when I heard it.
A whisper. Low, guttural, layered.
Not one voice. Many.
It seeped from the cracks in the stone, from the very essence that made up the domain. A presence—hungry, waiting.
Then, the altar split open.
Not shattered, not exploded—split. Like something inside had simply decided it was time to leave.
A figure rose from the jagged remains.
Tall. Unnaturally so. Its limbs were long, stretched, yet fluid, moving as if they weren't bound by bone. Its face—if it could even be called that—was a swirling void, shifting and distorting like a broken reflection.
Essence poured off it in waves, thick and suffocating.
The clan leader staggered back. His lips moved, but no sound came out.
Because he recognized it.
Because he knew exactly what it was.
His son.
Or at least, what was left of him.