The Mark surged.

  Kael’s body was no longer his own.

  The instant he let go, the void swallowed everything. The world blurred, twisting at the edges, shadows curling like grasping fingers. The air crackled—cold, unnatural—charged with something that wasn’t of this world.

  And then—impact.

  Kael didn’t see himself move. One moment, the Voidborn lunged, its too-long limbs stretching toward him. The next—his arm snapped up, and an unseen force ripped the creature apart.

  No blade. No touch. Just will.

  The Voidborn collapsed in an instant, its body unraveling into dust.

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  Kael gasped, staggering, his mind reeling. He hadn’t chosen to do that.

  But the Mark had.

  The nameless man’s voice cut through the chaos. "Now you see."

  Kael turned, breathing hard. The remaining creatures hesitated. Their eyeless faces fixed on him—not as prey, not even as an enemy.

  But as something else.

  For the first time, they were afraid.

  The Mark pulsed again, hungry, waiting for him to let go completely.

  Kael clenched his fists. No. Not yet. Not until he understood.

  The Voidborn let out guttural, inhuman shrieks and vanished into the darkness.

  Silence fell.

  The nameless man studied him carefully. "You feel it, don’t you? The Mark is not a weapon. It’s a door."

  Kael exhaled sharply, forcing the lingering power back into silence. "A door to what?"

  The man’s eyes darkened. "To what comes next."

  Kael turned away, staring into the ruins. The Imperium wouldn’t stop hunting him. The Voidborn feared him. The Mark wanted something from him.

  And for the first time, Kael wasn’t sure whether he had unlocked power… or been chosen as its next prisoner.

  But one thing was certain.

  There was no turning back.