There are truths not meant to reach the light.
Sector Delta was never meant to exist. And now, it doesn't. Officially, it was erased swallowed by collapse, written off as a facility malfunction. A common lie, one that cost the lives of hundreds.
But beneath the ash-choked wastes of the Foldscar Blightlands, the hidden core of the Slave Sector lived on. Cold halls of obsidian steel thrummed with life, filled with data-fed machines and men long devoid of empathy. Here, records still spoke, and in those records seven names.
Six of them were crossed out.
The final one: Kael.
"Still moving," Overseer Myrr muttered, watching the life-feed flicker on the rusting screen. "Low-tier signals. Barely using his abilities."
He leaned back, face covered by a half-mask etched with faint red glyphs. Beside him stood the Marked seven enforcers clad in mirror-black armor, their faces erased by ritual scarring, their tongues split to prevent betrayal. These were not ordinary hunters.
They were Sector Annihilators.
One knelt. "Two more escapees found. Executed before discovery."
"Good," Myrr replied. "No body, no proof. As it should be."
The Slave Sector had shifted strategy. No more retrieval. No more experiments. The escape from Delta had stirred too many whispers in higher circles whispers dangerous enough to threaten even the unseen foundation of their world.
Their answer: eradication.
Total silence.
Myrr traced his finger across a stained map of the Velhara continent, its edges marked with old-world symbols. "Find him. Make it final."
The Marked vanished into darkness, and with them, judgment followed.
A World Stirs Elsewhere
While the Slave Sector moved to bury secrets, the rest of Velhara turned toward something else entirely.
News had erupted from the southern rim of the Maw Rift: a structure had emerged. Not merely another ruin—but one that shifted, moved, breathed. Its core shimmered with unstable fragments of a realm that didn't belong.
The High Senate of Veyruun's Crown issued a continent-wide call:
> "To all certified adventuring guilds, free bands, licensed ruin-seekers and expedition companies:
A newly risen anomaly, hereafter named the Shattered Verge, has been located along the Rift.
Preliminary scans detect unstable realms, potential multidimensional layering, and unknown lifeforms.
Authorization for full-scale exploration has been granted. All participating groups to be registered for the Grand Adventurer's Mass. Riches, power, and knowledge await."
The call reached every major city-state:
Drah-Zirn, the ironwork fortress-cities of the north, responded with siege caravans and armed scholars.
Hyruun's Cradle, high above the storm-gorged cliffs, sent their Skybound Orders under silence.
The Weeping Range's scattered nomads began to converge in war-parties.
And Ryah Hollow, half-eaten by time and beasts, stirred from its ghostly slumber.
Guilds rallied. Mercenaries gathered. Relic-seekers, ruin-hounds, and half-mad sorcerers all turned their gaze to the Shattered Verge.
But In the Shadows...
Beneath this orchestrated excitement, darker intentions pulsed.
Groups like the Fangs of Ruin cast out scholars turned spiritual fanatics believed the Verge was more than a discovery. To them, it was a scar, a place where one of the universe's core truths had been severed. It was not a ruin, but a wound.
They whispered that the Verge was where the echo of a lost concept had been entombed.
Something ancient had died there. And whatever remained was still leaking into this world.
Another cult, the Black Union, interpreted the rise of the Verge as a sign an invitation. They didn't seek relics. They sought annihilation. They believed that deep inside the Verge were monsters that had consumed identities, devoured entire meanings, and broken the laws that bound creation itself.
If one could merge with them… one could become something beyond will. Beyond fate. Beyond form.
Their movements were subtle. They didn't know of Kael. They didn't need to. He was only one among thousands drifting through the chaos unnoticed.
But the world was shifting. Forces were converging.
And Kael, unmarked, unknown, and hunted was moving closer to the storm.