**21 years ago**
Russio Kaithos Vashanti smiled as he watched the bustling street below from the balcony of his penthouse. The spring sun rose steadily in the East, painting the city in golden hues. A slight breeze whispered from the West, carrying the faint hum of the awakening metropolis. It was the kind of morning that felt untouched by chaos, as if even the world had paused to breathe.
He tugged at the sleeve of his tuxedo, noticing how it had folded awkwardly at the wrist. How very ungentlemanly. Chuckling softly, he adjusted the fabric and glanced at his golden watch. It was well past the scheduled time.
“They should’ve been here ten minutes ago,” he murmured to himself, his sharp gaze narrowing. “What’s keeping Arthur?” His chauffeur, ever punctual, was rarely late.
But just as Russio was about to make another comment, a sleek black limousine pulled up to the entrance of the Vashanti Corp building. Russio leaned forward, an unusual lightness stirring in his chest. The moment had arrived—the guest had finally arrived. The one who had insisted the meeting wouldn’t start without him.
The limousine door opened, and out stepped a figure. A young man dressed in a tuxedo that mirrored Russio’s own, though with more flamboyance, his bright eyes practically radiating with energy. As his gaze lifted, he caught sight of Russio on the balcony and waved enthusiastically.
“Grandpa!” Kainthos yelled, grinning widely.
Russio’s face softened as he waved back, his heart stirring at the sight of his grandson. The boy rushed into the building, practically bounding with excitement. Russio stayed on the balcony for a moment longer, watching the limousine pull away before stepping inside. A part of him wanted to stay there, watching the city below, savoring the peace, but he had business to attend to.
His thoughts drifted as he crossed the room, setting his cup down on the small outdoor table. He couldn’t help but think of the time that had passed. Despite his vast success and unshakeable reputation, Russio had always felt a void—a longing for a son, someone to whom he could pass on his legacy. When he had been blessed with a daughter, he had tried to bury his disappointment. He had loved Moiya, doting on her and giving her everything she needed, but the ache remained.
But then, Kainthos was born. That tiny, curious bundle had been his salvation. He still remembered holding the infant in his arms, the moment everything had shifted. He had looked down at the tiny boy’s wide eyes, so full of wonder, and felt a connection so deep it shook him.
"Kainthos," he had whispered, the name settling like a promise in his soul.
The baby’s fingers had curled around his own, and for the first time in years, Russio had felt at peace. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the empires, not the battles he had won. He had been complete.
As if in response to his thoughts, the soft ding of the elevator brought him back to the present. Russio straightened his tuxedo, his mouth curving into a small, proud smile. The doors slid open, revealing Kainthos rushing out with eager arms outstretched.
"Grandpa!" the boy exclaimed, barely containing his excitement.
"Little Kai!" Russio chuckled, feeling a rare warmth fill him. He swept the boy up into an embrace, stumbling slightly as he adjusted to the newfound weight. “Soon to be not so little, it seems.” He beamed, brushing a hand through the boy's hair. His sharp eyes softened whenever Kai was around, something that didn’t happen often. The hardened war veteran, the successful CEO of Vashanti Corp, and the tactician who had orchestrated entire campaigns—when Kai was near, Russio became a different man entirely.
"Are you ready for the meeting, Grandpa?" Kai asked, looking up with bright curiosity.
“More than ready,” Russio replied, although it was clear his thoughts weren’t fully on the meeting just yet. He reached for a prized possession that was always by his side: a carefully polished, antique shotgun that had saved his life on more than one occasion during his military days.
Kai’s eyes lit up. “Is that the gun you always talk about?”
“Indeed,” Russio said with a proud smile. “The very same.” He handed it to Kai, who accepted it with a mix of awe and curiosity. Russio flicked the safety on. “Now, you must promise me, the safety’s on. Don’t be too reckless with it.”
Kai nodded earnestly, although he was clearly itching to handle it. Russio held the shotgun carefully, even though it was empty—there was something about having it in his hands that gave him a sense of comfort.
“Come along, Kai,” Russio said. “We can’t keep the shareholders waiting any longer.”
---
Inside the conference room, the tension was palpable. A dozen serious faces surrounded the long table, all awaiting Russio's arrival. The room was filled with murmurs and low whispers, shareholders debating the future direction of Vashanti Corp. The meeting, always an important affair, had grown even more critical today with the looming changes Russio had promised. But it wasn't just the meeting that had the room on edge—there was something about Russio’s tone in recent days that suggested major shifts were on the horizon.
Kai, standing by his grandfather's side, looked around curiously, his small hands still gripping the shotgun, much to the unease of the shareholders. Russio gave them an assuring smile. “Don’t worry, gentlemen. Safety is on. No need to panic.”
They hesitated, but some of the shareholders shifted uneasily in their seats. Russio, unfazed, took a seat at the head of the table and motioned for Kai to sit beside him.
“Let’s begin, then.”
As the discussions began, the room’s tension built with every passing moment. Russio's eyes scanned the room, ever watchful. He kept an eye on Kai, who was now fiddling with the shotgun under the table. The boy’s innocent curiosity was a stark contrast to the corporate sharks around them.
Then, in the middle of a particularly heated exchange, just as a critical vote was about to be cast, a loud BANG rang out from the shotgun. The room froze. Every head turned toward the source, the air thick with suspense.
Russio, ever the tactician, smiled inwardly. Everything had gone according to plan.
“Ah, apologies,” he said, his voice smooth and calm, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred. “I believe my grandson got a little... eager.”
The room remained silent for a long moment. Then, as if releasing a collective breath, the shareholders slowly resumed their discussions, the unease momentarily shattered by the unexpected, yet oddly timed interruption. Russio leaned back in his chair, a satisfied grin tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Let’s continue,” he said, the subtle victory of the moment lingering in the air.
Russio leaned back in his chair, a satisfied grin tugging at the corner of his lips. The tension in the room had shifted, the shareholders now slightly more on edge, but also more focused. The unspoken understanding was clear—Russio had the room's attention, and the real meeting could begin.
Russio turned his gaze toward the room, the air becoming dense with the anticipation of what he was about to propose. One of the older shareholders, a man with a stern face and gray hair, cleared his throat.
“Russio,” he began, his tone cautious, “we can all appreciate the theatrics, but let’s get to the heart of the matter. You’re suggesting an expansion that could strain our financial resources considerably. Your proposal to increase the corporation’s stake in foreign markets, especially the emerging sectors, is bold—but it's risky.”
Another shareholder, a woman with sharp features and a calculating stare, chimed in. “If we’re being realistic here, the financial constraints are significant. Our investments in current projects are already pushing the limits. Any further commitments—especially the ones you're proposing—could lead to long-term cash flow problems.”
A murmur of agreement rippled through the room. The unease had returned, and the board members were clearly skeptical of Russio’s grand vision. They had seen the empire he had built, but they were not blind to the dangers that lay ahead.
Russio remained calm, unfazed by the criticism. He had anticipated this reaction. With a steady breath, he glanced around the room, meeting each shareholder's eyes one by one.
“Indeed,” he said, his voice firm and commanding. “There are always risks in expansion, especially when venturing into untapped markets. But I have built this empire not by fearing risks, but by understanding them, calculating them, and—when necessary—embracing them. What I propose is an opportunity for growth that will position Vashanti Corp at the forefront of global industry. If we fail to act now, we risk being left behind. The financial constraints? They are manageable, if we take a calculated approach.”
He paused, letting his words sink in. "I will not stand idly by while other corporations leap ahead, seizing the market share that should be ours. We will make bold moves, and we will succeed. But, of course, the final decision rests with you."
There was a brief silence as Russio’s confident words hung in the air. The room, which had been filled with skepticism moments ago, now seemed to shift. The tension remained, but there was a palpable shift in tone. Perhaps they hadn’t yet lost faith in him after all.
A younger shareholder, one who had remained silent throughout most of the conversation, finally spoke up, his voice tentative but curious. “And what do you suggest, Russio? How do you plan to overcome the current financial constraints and make this expansion feasible?”
Russio leaned forward, his eyes narrowing slightly. “That's what we're about to discuss.” He shot a glance at Kai, who had been quietly observing the exchange. The boy’s inquisitive nature had not gone unnoticed. "Kai, would you like to add anything?" he asked, his voice full of unspoken meaning.
Kai looked up, still holding the shotgun with a slightly amused expression. For a brief moment, the tension in the room tightened again, but then the boy’s innocent smile broke through. “Well, I think Grandpa’s right,” Kai said with a playful grin. “You can't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs. But if anyone can figure out how to manage the eggs, it’s him.”
A ripple of laughter spread through the room. The momentary levity was just what Russio needed. He leaned back again, his expression now both calm and confident.
“Now,” he said, his tone shifting back to business, “shall we proceed?
---
**18 Years ago**
The funeral procession was shrouded in silence as the mourners gathered, their presence heavy with the weight of loss. The rhythmic toll of the bell echoed in the distance, marking time as the crowd filed into the somber space. Kai, his small frame rigid with confusion, struggled to comprehend the gravity of the moment. His gaze remained fixed on the casket before him, his heart unable to accept that the man who had always been larger than life, his grandpa, was now reduced to this stillness.
Beside him stood his mother, Moiya, her face drawn with grief, her eyes swollen from the tears that seemed endless. Her hand was firmly clasped in her husband’s, Rick, who stood stoically beside her, his expression unreadable. His features, as always, remained tightly controlled, betraying little emotion. The contrast between him and his wife was stark—Moiya’s raw sorrow clashed with Rick’s impenetrable exterior.
The priest stepped forward, his voice rich with reverence and authority, breaking through the silence that hung heavy in the air.
“Dearly beloved, we gather here today to honor the life of a man whose legacy cannot be contained by time, whose achievements stand as a testament to his unyielding resolve and unmatched strength. Russio Kaithos Vashanti, a man who faced adversity with the unwavering conviction of a titan, whose courage carved a path that many have followed.”
The priest’s gaze settled on Kai, a quiet understanding passing between them as he continued, “While his body may now rest, his spirit ascends to realms beyond our reach. And though he is no longer among us, his influence endures. Each of us here carries a fragment of his essence. His wisdom, his triumphs, his very being continue to live on through the legacy he leaves behind. He is, in a very real way, immortalized within the hearts of those who knew him.”
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The mourners shifted uneasily, some in awe, others in sorrow, but Rick’s expression remained unchanged. He stood rigid, the stoic barrier he had always worn in place, even as his thoughts darkened with the weight of his own resentment. The priest’s words, meant to uplift, felt like an echo of the tensions that had always existed between Rick and Russio. A reminder of the ways Russio had undermined him, the subtle barbs and dismissive gestures that had made him feel like an outsider in his own family.
As the priest's speech continued, Rick’s thoughts drifted back to the moments of conflict, the long-standing tension with Russio over Kai’s future. He had tried, desperately at times, to be the father Kai needed, but Russio had always overshadowed him. Now, in the wake of the old man’s death, Rick found himself on the edge of a chasm between father and son—one that Russio had never allowed him to bridge.
Despite the grief surrounding them, Rick couldn't shake the bitterness. He didn’t know if it was the funeral that had dredged up these old wounds, or the quiet presence of his son beside him, but he felt the absence of the man who had so easily taken his place in Kai’s life.
In the middle of all this, Kai stood quietly, looking up at the casket with a face full of confusion. At nine years old, he couldn’t understand the full weight of Russio’s legacy, nor the complexities of the relationships around him. But what Kai did understand was the love and adoration his grandfather had shown him, and that in itself left him feeling lost and adrift in the wake of the old man’s passing.
As the priest concluded, Rick felt his gaze involuntarily shift to his son. Despite everything—despite the tensions, despite the unsaid words—there was a part of him that needed to be there for Kai now. The boy, still so young, needed a steady hand in a world that had just become infinitely more uncertain.
---
**3 yrs ago**
Three years ago, Kai Zarisimo stood in his childhood home, the place that had once been filled with warmth and the promise of greatness. Now, it felt cold and alien. He was standing in front of the two people who had shattered everything—his mother, Moiya, and his father, Rick.
“You had no right,” Kai’s voice cracked, his chest tight with rage. “No right to take everything I worked for. My inheritance, my future—you’ve taken it all!”
His mother remained poised, sitting on the couch with her hands folded neatly in her lap. Rick stood by the door, arms crossed, his face a mask of indifference.
“We did what we had to do, Kai,” Rick’s voice was calm, almost too calm. “We didn’t have a choice. You don’t understand.”
Kai felt his blood boil. “What do you mean I don’t understand? You sold me out. You took the trust fund my grandfather left me and used it to pay off your debts. You stole my future. That was mine, damn it!”
“Kai, please,” Moiya interjected softly. “It was never going to be like you thought. Your grandfather was unstable, the empire was crumbling. We did what we had to do to keep it all together.”
“You did this, not me. You ruined everything.” His voice dropped to a bitter whisper. “And you expect me to just... accept it?”
Rick’s expression hardened, and he took a step forward. “We’re just trying to survive, Kai. We’ve always been doing what’s necessary. And for once, we put our family first.”
“Family?” Kai’s laugh was harsh, mocking. “This wasn’t about family. You did what was convenient for you. And now, look at me.” His voice caught, and his gaze swept over the two of them, but they didn’t flinch. They didn’t care. “You’ve ruined my life, and now you want me to forgive you?”
A heavy silence fell over the room. The weight of his words seemed to hang in the air, unspoken and unresolved. Finally, Rick turned away, not able to face him anymore.
Kai stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him, his world spinning out of control.
---
Three years had passed since that night, and nothing had changed. The bitterness inside Kai had only grown, gnawing at him with every passing day. His life had become a blur of fleeting encounters, moments of numbness, and weekends spent at the bar, drowning in alcohol and the bodies of strangers.
It wasn’t supposed to be this way. He had been born to succeed, to lead. Instead, he was just another broken man, haunted by the ghosts of what could have been.
Clara leaned over him, her fingertips grazing his bare chest as the warm afterglow of their shared night together lingered between them. Kai stared at the ceiling, unable to shake the emptiness inside.
“You know, you’re pretty,” he said, almost absentmindedly, as he turned his head to glance at her.
She smiled, a glimmer of warmth flickering in her eyes. “Just pretty? I think I deserve more than that after all I’ve done for you.”
Kai smirked, but it was hollow. “You’re more than just pretty. You’re... everything I shouldn’t want right now.”
Clara furrowed her brow, shifting to sit up beside him. “What do you mean by that?”
He rolled over, away from her, his back to the world. “You don’t get it. I don’t... I don’t have time for this. For us. I’m not who you think I am.”
“What is it, Kai?” she asked, her voice softer now, tinged with concern. “What’s really going on? You act like you’re fine, like you’ve got it all under control, but I can see it. I see the cracks.”
“I’m fine,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “This... this is all just a distraction. I’m not even sure what I’m doing anymore. I should’ve been more. I should’ve had more.”
Clara leaned in, her hand gently touching his shoulder. “But you have me. And you have a life you’re living right now. Don’t you think you’re worth more than the way you’re treating yourself?”
Kai let out a bitter laugh. “I used to think I was. Back when I had it all. But now? Now, I’m just... a joke. I’m the guy everyone looks at with pity, the guy who doesn’t even know how to fix it.”
Clara didn’t say anything, but the silence between them spoke volumes. She reached out, her hand gently brushing against his, but her touch, warm and reassuring as it was, didn’t soothe the ache inside him.
He looked at her, taking in her soft features, her sympathy, and realized he couldn’t remember the last time he felt truly connected to someone—like, really connected. There had been moments, fleeting touches, fleeting emotions, but they always slipped through his fingers, like sand. The world he once inhabited—full of plans, ambition, and expectations—seemed like a distant dream, impossible to reach now. He'd chased fleeting moments of distraction to fill the void left by his failure, but every time it was like running into a wall.
"Maybe I was never meant to be that guy," Kai muttered under his breath, barely loud enough for Clara to hear. "Maybe that was all a delusion. A dream that never stood a chance."
Clara shifted slightly, but didn’t press him. She had heard this version of him before. The quiet self-loathing that Kai carried with him like an invisible weight. She had seen it in his eyes during their brief encounters—he wasn’t just lost; he was drowning in it.
Without saying much more, he stood up, the weight of the conversation pressing on him. "I should go," he added. His voice was flat, lifeless. He didn’t know why he said it—just that it was time to leave.
---
The mine.
It was his new reality. It was nothing like the future he had once envisioned, but it was all he had left. As the head guard, he was responsible for the men under him—yet, even here, Kai felt like an outsider. He wasn’t meant to be supervising guards; he was meant to be leading an empire.
But his life had taken him far from those dreams. His relationships with his fellow guards were strained, though Kai did his best to keep up appearances, to be the leader they needed. He had no choice but to keep his focus on the work—there was nothing else left.
Tyler, a younger guard, approached him early one morning. “Everything’s good out here, Kai. No issues so far.”
Kai gave him a brief nod, his gaze scanning the perimeter. “Stay vigilant. No excuses. Double-check the security before you leave.”
Tyler didn’t question him, but Kai could see the weariness in his eyes. It wasn’t easy being a guard, not in a place like this. Still, they had a job to do, and that’s all Kai could offer them.
But there were days when the weight of the past became too much to ignore. Days when his mind wandered to Marc and Andre—the two friends who had once stood by him, looked up to him. They had been his partners, chasing the same dreams. But now, every time he saw them, it felt like the roles had reversed. It was no longer Kai they followed. It was them who had grown beyond him.
He remembered the first time he had seen them after everything had gone to hell. Marc had greeted him with a smile, but it was too wide, too forced. Andre had barely looked him in the eye.
“Kai,” Marc had said, his tone strangely neutral, “how’ve you been? You know, we were talking the other day... the old days...”
They’d talked like old times, but it was clear that the distance between them had already grown. Marc and Andre had moved on with their lives—careers, opportunities, stability. Meanwhile, Kai had become a shadow of the man he used to be, stuck in a job he wasn’t meant to have, wandering through a life he had never intended.
At first, he’d tried to convince himself that everything was fine, that they were still friends, still the same. But it didn’t take long for him to feel it—the pity. The way their eyes flicked to the side when they thought he wasn’t looking. The way Marc’s smile faltered when he asked about Kai’s “plans.” The way Andre had started talking about investment opportunities as if Kai didn’t have enough to worry about.
It was one conversation at a bar that broke him. Andre had been boasting about his latest venture in cryptocurrency. “I made a decent return off Bitcoin,” Andre had said casually, his fingers tapping on his phone, “Couldn’t have asked for a better time to get in. You should consider it, Kai. Might get you back on your feet.”
Kai’s jaw clenched as he stared at Andre. The pity was there, clear as day. They were trying to help, but it wasn’t the kind of help he wanted. He wasn’t asking for a handout. He wanted his future back, not some half-hearted gesture to make him feel better.
“I’m fine,” Kai had snapped, standing up abruptly, slamming his drink down on the table. “I don’t need your advice, Andre. I’ve heard it all before.”
Marc shot him a questioning look, but Kai didn’t care anymore. He wasn’t the one to chase their approval anymore. It was them who were now chasing the shadows of their own success, and it made Kai feel smaller than he ever had before.
"I'm leaving," he said, his voice flat, like a finality he had just come to accept.
There was a brief, awkward silence. Marc’s eyes lingered on him for a moment longer, as if expecting something—an explanation, maybe, or a sign of hesitation. But when Kai didn’t flinch, didn’t offer any justification, Marc just shrugged.
Andre, sitting across from them, didn't even look up from his phone. The hum of the bar and the clink of glasses seemed to drown out the heaviness between them. Kai wasn’t even sure if Andre had heard him. But it didn’t matter.
Without another word, Kai stood, feeling the weight of the room push down on him. He could feel their eyes on him, but they weren’t the eyes that had once admired him. They weren’t the eyes of people who cared. They were eyes filled with indifference, maybe even pity.
Kai didn’t need their validation anymore. He had made his choice.
With a final, almost defiant glance over his shoulder, he turned and walked toward the door. The sound of his boots echoed in the quiet as he stepped out, the cool night air hitting his face, but it didn’t bring him any relief.
To hell with them, he thought as he walked away, the weight of their dismissal settling in his chest. But it was a different kind of weight now—one he could carry. It was the weight of freedom, of being untethered from the people who had once mattered to him.
He wasn’t going to beg for approval. Not anymore.
---
That evening, as Kai made his way back to the mine, a strange sensation crawled over him, as though something were waiting, something he couldn't quite see. It was more than just the regular monotony of his life—it was a feeling that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He brushed it off, chalking it up to the long hours and the exhaustion that weighed heavily on him. But as he walked through the entrance, something shifted in the air, like the stillness before a storm.
"Kai!" Tyler called out, snapping him from his thoughts. "Everything all right?"
"Yeah, just... tired," Kai muttered, forcing a smile. "Stay on guard, alright?"
The young man nodded without question, but Kai's mind was elsewhere, lost in the fog of his own doubts. It wasn’t just the physical toll the mine was taking—it was the emotional weight, the constant reminder that his life, once filled with dreams and ambition, had crumbled into dust.
He'd thought he’d put it behind him—the pity in Marc and Andre’s eyes, the way they treated him now. But it lingered, festering. He could still see them, standing at that bar, their smiles strained, their words polite but distant. Don’t think we didn’t notice, he could hear Andre’s unspoken words. You used to be the one we envied, Kai. Now, you’re just another face in the crowd.
There was a time when Marc would’ve come to him with ideas, plans, schemes—things they would build together. Now Marc’s every word felt like an unspoken challenge. He wasn’t just talking about crypto or business opportunities anymore; he was talking about things Kai had no part in. And it made his insides twist with bitterness.
He remembered the look in Marc’s eyes when he had asked about Kai’s future. Not pity exactly, but something worse—a mix of confusion and disappointment. What happened to you? those eyes had asked without a word.
That was when the weight of the years hit him hardest, when he realized that Marc and Andre had moved on—without him. And now, he was just a shadow of his former self, left behind in their wake.
---
Kai stepped into the mine’s labyrinth of tunnels, pushing away the nagging thought of his former friends. He needed a distraction, something to occupy his mind. The air was damp, thick with the scent of earth and minerals. His boots echoed in the hollow space, the sound bouncing back at him like a reminder of how empty his life had become.
Then, a flicker of something caught his eye—a darkened shaft that had always been off-limits, a sealed passage that had never drawn much attention. Something about it now seemed to call to him. His gut twisted with an unfamiliar sense of urgency, something deep inside urging him forward.
It was an odd feeling. He had always followed his instincts, but this—this felt different.
Kai hesitated, looking back at the main shaft where his fellow guards were stationed. He knew they wouldn’t notice his absence for a while. His supervisor’s duties were mostly just a cover these days. His mind wasn’t on keeping watch; it was on finding something—anything—to make him feel alive again.
As he stepped into the narrow tunnel, the walls seemed to close in around him, the dampness of the stone growing more oppressive. The deeper he went, the stronger the feeling of being watched grew. But it wasn’t just the usual sense of unease in a place like this; it was as if the very air around him was alive.
The tunnel twisted and turned, and with every step, the walls began to glow faintly—small patches of moss, luminescent and strangely beautiful, clinging to the stone. It wasn’t much, but enough to make him pause. He had never seen anything like it before.
"Maybe I’m losing it," he muttered to himself, but curiosity gnawed at him. He kept going, deeper and deeper, until the passage opened into a massive cavern.
It was like stepping into another world.
Riches lay before him—gemstones, diamonds, sapphires, and jades glistened in the dim light, their colors vibrant against the stone. The floor and walls seemed to shimmer with an unnatural beauty, as though everything had been arranged with intention. Kai’s heart raced. He had stumbled upon something incredible, something he couldn’t explain.
He felt a surge of exhilaration—the first real emotion he had felt in weeks. This is it, he thought. This is how I can fix everything.
Kai moved quickly, stuffing handfuls of treasure into his jacket, feeling the weight of it, knowing that just a few of these stones would be enough to change his future. He could sell them, make enough to get out of this dead-end job, to start fresh. He could rebuild his life, put the past behind him. For a brief moment, he felt the promise of it—the sensation that maybe, just maybe, things could get better.
His eyes darted around the cavern, and that’s when he saw it—an unusual rock, star-shaped, sitting innocently among the treasure. He couldn’t explain why, but it felt important. Like it had been waiting for him.
He carefully picked it up, turning it over in his hand. It was heavier than it looked, and the surface was etched with strange symbols that made his skin prickle. There was something ancient about it, something more than just a piece of rock.
Kai followed his gut, retracing his steps until he found a small crevice in the wall that seemed to fit the rock perfectly. With a deep breath, he pressed it into place, expecting something—anything—to happen.
But nothing did.
Disappointment gnawed at him, and he turned away, muttering a curse under his breath. “Guess I was wrong about this.”
He continued to loot the cavern, stuffing gems into his jacket, his hands shaking with the thrill of discovery. But then—something changed.
At first, it was subtle. The gems began to glow, faintly at first, then brighter, pulsing with a strange, otherworldly energy. Kai froze. His heart skipped a beat. The rock—his rock—lifted from his jacket, floating gently through the air. It returned to the crevice, but this time, the stone fit—and as it did, the entire cavern seemed to react, a hum vibrating through the ground.
Fear gripped him.
The other rocks began to rise, floating in the air around him. Panic surged. He could feel the energy building, an almost magnetic pull that seemed to draw him in. He had to leave, had to get out of there before—before whatever this was could take hold of him.
Turning, he sprinted toward the exit, but something felt wrong. The earth beneath him seemed to move, and before he knew it, a sudden force jerked him backward. His legs gave way, and as he tried to catch himself, a rock struck him in the temple. His vision went dark, and he crumpled to the ground.
The last thing he felt was the pull of the void, dragging him into a dark, infinite abyss.
And with that, his world, his miserable life, vanished.