The whisper lingered in Kael’s mind long after the monolith had fallen silent.

  "It begins again."

  A cold weight settled in his chest.

  The Mark on his arm burned—not painfully, but like an ember waiting to be stoked into flame.

  It had changed him once. It would change him again.

  But how much of him would remain?

  Kael exhaled sharply, forcing his focus back to the man before him—the one who had claimed to witness the Mark’s past.

  "You knew this would happen," Kael said, his voice low. "Didn’t you?"

  The man tilted his head. "I suspected."

  "Then start talking," Kael growled. "No more riddles. No more half-truths. What does the Mark want?"

  The man studied him for a moment. Then, with deliberate slowness, he lifted his own hand.

  And rolled back his sleeve.

  Kael’s breath caught.

  A Mark.

  Not identical to his—but similar. Twisting, ancient, black veins crawling along his skin like living ink.

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  "You are not the first, Forsaken," the man murmured. "You are merely the latest."

  Kael’s pulse pounded in his ears.

  "You had it too," he whispered.

  "I still do."

  The revelation settled like a stone in Kael’s stomach.

  The Mark did not leave its hosts.

  It stayed.

  "Then why are you still… normal?" Kael’s voice was edged with suspicion. "Why hasn’t it consumed you?"

  The man’s expression darkened.

  "Because I paid the price before it could."

  Kael had faced battle. He had faced execution.

  But the way this man said those words sent a chill through him.

  "What price?" Kael asked.

  The man was silent for a long moment. Then, he spoke—not loudly, but with a weight that made Kael’s stomach turn.

  "Something the Mark took. Something I can never get back."

  Kael swallowed. "And what was that?"

  The man finally looked him in the eyes.

  "My name."

  A whisper stirred in Kael’s mind.

  Not words, but something deeper. A memory that wasn’t his. A feeling that didn’t belong to him.

  For a fleeting moment, he wasn’t in the ruins.

  He was somewhere else.

  A battlefield.

  Bodies strewn across the earth, fire consuming the sky. A hand reaching for something—**no, someone—**but their face was already fading.

  A name, slipping through his grasp.

  Then—nothing.

  Kael staggered back, his vision flickering. His breath came faster, shallower.

  The Mark had shown him something.

  Or had it taken something instead?

  The man was still watching him, his expression unreadable.

  "You feel it now, don’t you?" he said quietly.

  Kael’s hands clenched into fists. He couldn’t afford to show weakness.

  Not now.

  Not when he finally understood.

  The Mark did not just change its hosts.

  It erased them.