Fissures split over the old stone, causing the Blackwell Vault to tremble fiercely. From the fractured obelisk at the centre of the vault, tendrils of shadow twist and twirl as darkness writhes through the air. Dark energy pulses like a battle drum, a force that is both hungry and alive.
Grayson is motionless at the threshold, staring at the whirling chasm in front of him with ragged breath. There are two options. Two outcomes.
Let the vault fall and bury the Shadowbound King forever, or release him.
The chamber trembles as dust falls from the ceiling. The hefty doors creak as they gradually close. The clock is ticking.
His arm is grasped. Emery. She grounds him by digging her fingers into his sleeve and yanking him back from the edge. Her piercing, beseeching eyes probe his face.
"Whatever you do, Grayson, don't let it get to you."
Sensing that he hesitated, the shadow coils tighter. Holding out.
And then the vault splits apart with a roar. The decision was also made for him.
The cold stone floor has blood on it. Coughing, the Keeper grips his injured side while his body trembles. He takes strained, short breaths. Even if the vault is collapsing, he is still focused on Grayson. For too long, he has been carrying the truth.
Using his remaining power, he lifts his head and looks directly into the eyes of the final Blackwell heir.
"The Blackwells never had control over the shadows," he snarls. They served as its slaves.
Grayson gets tense. A cold burden descends upon his chest.
As darkness curls at the corners of his vision, the Keeper sways. His voice has become weaker, hardly audible over the commotion.
"It will not obey you if you take the power. It will devour you.
Shots echoed through the safe. A moist cry drowns out the Keeper's last words as he jerks forward.
As the smoke curls from the barrel, Sarah lowers her weapon without flinching. Under him, the Keeper's blood pools as he crumples.
Grayson's heart is pounding as he looks. The rest of the warning will remain unknown to him.
It might also be too late now.
The smell of dust and decay fills the air as the vault trembles. The faint light is distorted into something strange by the obelisk's pulsing shadows. Despite the confusion, Sarah moves forward, her face unreadable—until she draws the dagger.
The blade is made of pure void energy and shines, its surface changing like liquid darkness.
Grayson lets out a gasp. He is aware of the weapon's capabilities.
Sarah tilts her head and speaks in a soft, almost apologetic voice. "Grayson, it was never meant for you to come this far."
She lunges before he can respond, aiming directly for his heart.
The world becomes slower. The blade drops.
Then Emery.
Sarah is thrown off course as she crashes into her. The dagger misses its target by millimetres as it slashes through the air. In a savage battle, their limbs tangle as they fall to the earth. Sarah tries to strike again, but Emery blocks it by twisting her wrist and pushing the dagger away.
Emery screams out, "Traitor," and pushes her away.
Sarah just grins as she gracefully twists away. "You're unaware of what's about to happen."
Lila and Clara struggle to prevent the vault from collapsing. Shadow creatures scuttle into being as ancient stones crumble and break.
This vault is collapsing. So is their time.
The fight wanes. Even the weight of the moment, the shouts, and the sound of the stone shattering all vanish into quiet.
Grayson's mind is invaded by a voice. Profound. Ancient. Laughing.
"The heir is you."
In his blurred vision, the vault vanishes. Rather, he perceives something else, something that is far away from the here and now.
A city engulfed in shadows.
The shadows at his feet bowed.
One thought eliminates his adversaries, extinguishing their lives like candle flames. He is invincible. A ghost in the world of mortals. A monarch governing from the depths.
"I can make you invincible."
Cold and enticing, the words wrap around his spine.
Then he sees his reflection.
If he agrees, he will be—not as he is.
He changes his reflection. He had a vacant gaze. He took the shape of a wraith clad in human skin. Unfathomable power... But there was no one left to use it.
A cold shiver up his chest.
He understands deep down that there won't be a way back if he says yes.
The walls break like broken bone as the vault trembles. Desperate and ravenous, shadow tendrils flail forth. The obelisk throbs, its sinister energy wailing to be let out.
Grayson's hands tighten into fists. Waiting, the Shadowbound King offers control and authority. Saying yes is all he needs to do.
He doesn't, though.
Instead, he puts his palm on the cold, obsidian surface and inhales tremblingly. The Blackwell insignia flickers with a dying light as it burns beneath his skin.
He growls, "I will not be your puppet." Not right now. Not ever.
Then—he presses.
As the symbol comes to life, its golden light burns fiercely against the shadows. The obelisk quivers, then gives way inward, consuming itself fragment by fragment. The screams of the shadows turn into something otherworldly as their howls of anger twist.
The vault starts to burst apart.
Sarah staggers back with wide eyes. "No—"
Her feet disappear off the ground. Like ravenous fingers, a deluge of blackness envelops her legs. She flails, but the emptiness pulls her down.
"No! This is not—
She disappears into the depths, her scream cut short.
Emery's scream breaks through the confusion. "Grayson!"
The dark is on its way to them as well.
He turns just as Emery reaches for him, but before their hands can touch, the shadows swarm in and consume them both.
Then nothing.
There is an overwhelming quiet.
And then, gradually—awareness.
Air rushes into Grayson's lungs like flames as he gasps. He touches a hard surface with his fingers—old, weathered stone. He blinks, his head hammering, his eyesight blurry.
Then he spots it.
There are veins of gold lightning in the sky, which is a deep dusk red. Something hums in the air—something... odd. His bones feel the weight of this place, strange but suffocatingly alive.
Pushing himself up, he looked across the horizon. It is a huge, rocky, unachievable place with ruins that reach forever and shadows that move when they shouldn't.
It's not the vault here.
He doesn't live here.
A deep, guttural voice, ancient and sage, rumbles in the distance.
"Heir, you should have done better."
With a pounding heart, Grayson turns.
"This is where the real test will come."
A chill slides down his back.
Exhaling, he steadies himself.
"Where in the world am I?"