In this chapter, Rayven and Nyra face off against the deadly Shadowscourge in the depths of the Hanging Archives, forcing Rayven to unlock a terrifying new power that comes at a heavy cost.
Chapter 37 – Flameborn
The first Shadowscourge hit like a missile.
Rayven barely dodged, twisting aside as claws raked sparks off the crystal wall. The creature shrieked—its face a warped porcelain mask, its body flickering between physical and smoke.
Behind it, five more surged from the mist.
Nyra opened fire, twin pistols barking in rhythm. Her bullets were charged with kinetic disruptors, built to tear through Echo-twisted flesh. Two of the shadows fell—one's mask cracked clean down the middle, exposing black flame beneath.
But more came.
Ten. Fifteen.
They crawled from the mist like a wave of nightmares.
Rayven turned toward the Echo chamber. The tri-heir symbol beneath the vanished cube was glowing now—pulsing to the rhythm of his heartbeat.
He stepped into it.
"Rayven!" Nyra shouted. "What are you doing?!"
"I can feel something," he called back. "Something inside this mark. It's reacting to me."
He reached out with both hands.
The seal flared—
—and his body lifted off the ground.
Pain tore through his spine. A thousand voices screamed through his blood.
Visions crashed into his mind: war-torn streets, a burning sky, Kael laughing as the Source split in half. Rayven saw himself—standing in a circle of fire, eyes glowing white, screaming at the heavens as his own power tore the ground apart.
And then…
Stillness.
Rayven opened his eyes.
They were no longer silver.
They burned gold-white, etched with flame.
His armor cracked, shedding like dead skin. A new layer formed beneath—sleek, obsidian with lines of light snaking across his arms and chest.
The chamber pulsed around him.
The Shadowscourge hesitated.
Then he moved.
Rayven became flame.
He shot forward like a bullet, trailing white fire. The first enemy he hit exploded in a burst of light, its mask turned to ash. He spun midair, fists ablaze, and slammed into the next two with a shockwave that shattered the floor.
"FLAMEBORN," the Archives intoned. "ANCESTRAL CORE AWAKENED."
Nyra ducked behind a pillar as Rayven unleashed wave after wave of energy—raw, wild, unchained.
She watched in awe and horror.
Because Rayven wasn't just fighting.
He was losing control.
"Rayven!" she screamed. "You have to stop!"
He turned toward her—and for a split second, didn't recognize her.
His flames dimmed, flickered… and then surged again.
The last Shadowscourge dove for her, teeth bared.
Rayven's instincts overrode thought.
He teleported.
One flash of light.
He stood between Nyra and death—fist through the monster's chest, fire searing through it until it turned to ash.
He gasped.
Collapsed to one knee.
The flames died out.
His eyes faded back to silver.
The chamber was silent again.
Smoke curled along the ground.
Rayven looked down at his hands. They were burned, trembling.
"I lost it," he whispered. "I lost myself."
Nyra knelt beside him, grabbed his wrist. "No. You pulled back. That means it's still you in there."
Rayven didn't answer.
Because deep down, he wasn't sure.
The seal had awakened something primal. Ancient. Not just power—a bloodline.
One the Council had erased from all records.
One Kael feared enough to suppress.
Far above, in a different district, Kael felt the shockwave ripple through the Echo grid.
He froze.
"No…" he muttered. "That power should've been gone."
He turned to the hooded servant beside him. "Send a message to the Wraith Syndicate. Tell them we've miscalculated."
The figure tilted his head. "About Rayven?"
Kael's eyes glowed crimson.
"About his bloodline."
Back in the Archives, Nyra pulled Rayven to his feet.
"We need to go. This place isn't safe anymore."
Rayven nodded, staring at the fading seal.
"I need answers. About what I really am. And why the others hid it from me."
Nyra touched his shoulder.
"Then let's find them."
They stepped into the misty corridor, leaving the flames behind.
Unseen, the crystal beneath them cracked—and something stirred in the depths below the Archives.
Something older than the city.
And it had just felt its heir awaken.