Lord of the Foresaken
Chapter 54: THE AWAKENED ONE

Chapter 54: THE AWAKENED ONE

Reed stumbled through the wreckage of what had once been the eastern wing of the Citadel of Midnight, his newfound powers thrumming beneath his skin like a second heartbeat. Three days had passed since his transformation into a Primal Warden, and still he struggled to contain the raw energy that coursed through his veins. The sigils etched into his flesh pulsed with an eerie blue-violet light whenever he exerted himself, as they did now—casting ghostly shadows across the rubble-strewn corridors.

Behind him, the remaining structure of the citadel continued to crumble, its foundations undermined by whatever stirred beneath. Varkath’s domain was collapsing, both literally and politically. The lord himself had vanished in the chaos—fled or buried, Reed couldn’t say with certainty.

"Lord Reed," called a voice from the shadows. One of his scouts materialized from a pocket of darkness, her face streaked with ash and dried blood. "The evacuation is nearly complete, but we’ve received... disturbing reports from the northern territories."

Reed paused, steadying himself against a fractured column. "Speak, Lysandra."

The scout’s eyes darted nervously to the pulsing sigils on Reed’s exposed forearms before continuing. "It’s the Hero of Emberhold, my lord. Darius Flameheart has... changed. Lord Ryven’s messengers claim he slaughtered half the castle guard before disappearing into the Ashen Wastes. They say his eyes had turned completely black, and he spoke in tongues no living man should know."

A cold knot formed in Reed’s stomach. With his enhanced senses, he could now perceive the intricate web of power that connected all domains—and he had felt disturbances rippling through that web since his transformation. But this was the first concrete manifestation of what he feared.

"Show me," he commanded, extending his hand toward Lysandra.

The scout hesitated only briefly before placing a blood-stained communication crystal in Reed’s palm. The moment the crystal touched his skin, it shattered—unable to withstand the resonance of his new power—but not before Reed absorbed its contents.

Images flooded his mind: Darius Flameheart, once the golden champion of Emberhold, his body contorted in unnatural angles as he moved with impossible speed through the castle halls. His legendary flameblade, a revered artifact bestowed upon him by the system, now burned with black fire that consumed flesh down to the bone. Most disturbing were his eyes—solid black orbs that leaked a viscous substance that hissed and smoked where it touched the ground.

"This is not isolated," Reed whispered, more to himself than to Lysandra. "The disturbance I felt in the web... it’s happening across multiple domains."

As if confirming his words, another scout burst into the corridor, his uniform torn and one arm hanging uselessly at his side. "My lord! Reports from Mistral Keep and the Obsidian Towers—their Heroes have turned! Lord Kaelin is dead, his skull crushed by his own champion. Lord Vex managed to escape, but barely. The Heroes... they’re exhibiting abilities beyond their classifications, beyond what the system should allow!"

Reed closed his eyes, extending his newfound senses outward. The Void Sensing ability he had gained allowed him to perceive tears in reality’s fabric—and now he detected dozens of them, scattered across the continent like festering wounds. At each location, the signature of a Hero burned like a dark star, their once-bright essence now corrupted by something ancient and hungry.

"They’re being used as vessels," Reed realized, the truth dawning with horrifying clarity. "The ancient entities—Those Who Sleep Below—they can’t breach the seals directly, so they’re using the Heroes as conduits."

"But how?" Lysandra asked, her voice barely audible. "Heroes are bound to their Lords by the system. How could they be corrupted?"

Reed’s mind raced back to the visions he had shared with Shia. The Lord System wasn’t merely a power structure—it was a defense mechanism, designed to maintain the seals that kept the ancient horrors at bay. The Lords were vessel-keepers, meant to channel and direct the fragmented power of the original mages. And the Heroes...

"The Heroes were never meant to exist," Reed said, the revelation chilling him to the core. "They’re an anomaly—a backdoor in the system that Those Who Sleep Below have discovered."

A distant explosion shook the remains of the citadel, sending fresh cascades of stone and dust raining down around them. Reed gestured for his scouts to follow as he navigated toward the outer walls.

"We need to capture one," he declared, his voice hardening with determination. "A possessed Hero—one that hasn’t fully transformed. It’s the only way to understand what we’re facing."

Three days later, Reed stood before a makeshift containment chamber in the heart of his own domain. The structure—hastily constructed from obsidian and reinforced with every binding spell his mages could muster—housed the thrashing form of what had once been Lianna Swiftblade, Hero of the Verdant Glades.

Her transformation was not yet complete. Black veins spread across her skin like a network of cracks in fine porcelain, but her eyes still held flecks of their original emerald color amidst the spreading darkness. Her limbs contorted at impossible angles as she hurled herself against the magical barriers, her once-beautiful face twisted in rage and agony.

"RELEASE ME, WARDEN!" she shrieked, her voice layered with multiple tones—her own high, clear voice undercut by something ancient and guttural. "THIS VESSEL IS CLAIMED! THE AWAKENING CANNOT BE STOPPED!"

Reed circled the containment field, studying the corruption’s progression. With his Dimensional Anchoring ability, he had managed to slow the possession—keeping whatever entity had claimed Lianna from fully manifesting.

"Who are you?" Reed demanded, channeling power into his voice. The sigils on his body flared, and the chamber trembled with the force of his authority. "Speak your true name, entity."

Lianna’s body convulsed, her back arching unnaturally until the sound of cracking vertebrae echoed through the chamber. Blood trickled from her eyes and nose as she fought against Reed’s compulsion.

"WE ARE THE FIRSTBORN," she finally gasped, black ichor spilling from her mouth with each word. "BEFORE YOUR KIND CRAWLED FROM THE MUD, WE RULED. BEFORE YOUR STARS BURNED, WE EXISTED. WE ARE HUNGER. WE ARE VOID. AND WE HAVE FOUND THE WAY BACK."

Reed pressed his palm against the barrier, sending pulses of energy through it that caused Lianna to howl in pain. The corruption temporarily receded, revealing more of her original form.

"Lianna," Reed called, softening his voice. "Fight it. I know you’re still in there."

For a brief moment, clarity returned to her eyes. "Lord Reed," she whispered, her voice her own again. "They’ve been inside us all along. Every Hero... we all carry a seed of them. The system didn’t create us—they did."

Before Reed could respond, her body seized again. The corruption surged back with renewed vigor, black veins spreading across her face and neck with alarming speed.

"THE HEROES ARE OURS," the entity roared through her mouth. "VESSELS PREPARED OVER GENERATIONS. THE LORDS WERE BLIND TO OUR INFILTRATION. EVEN NOW, YOUR PRECIOUS SHIA CARRIES OUR SEED."

Reed stumbled backward as if physically struck. "You lie," he hissed, but doubt had already taken root. He hadn’t been able to reestablish his connection with Shia since their shared vision. If what the entity claimed was true...

A piercing alarm cut through his thoughts. The barriers around Lianna’s containment field flickered, weakening as something drained their power. Reed whirled to find his chief mage, Elara, rushing into the chamber.

"My lord!" she cried, her face ashen. "Reports from across the continent—all the Heroes are transforming simultaneously! Something has triggered a mass awakening!"

As if to confirm her words, Lianna let out an inhuman scream. Her body began to warp and expand, flesh tearing as something far larger tried to emerge from within her. The containment field shattered like glass, sending shards of magical energy slicing through the air.

Reed moved with preternatural speed, tackling Elara to the ground as the chamber filled with a blinding light. When it faded, what remained of Lianna Swiftblade was barely recognizable as human. Her form had grown to twice its original size, limbs elongated and twisted, skin turned a mottled gray-black. What had once been her face was now a distorted mask with too many eyes, all fixing on Reed with ancient malice.

"THE CONVERGENCE IS UPON US, WARDEN," the creature spoke, its voice resonating at a frequency that made the very air vibrate. "YOUR KIND CREATED LORDS TO KEEP US BOUND. BUT YOU NEVER UNDERSTOOD—WE CREATED THE HEROES TO SET US FREE."

With a casual gesture, the creature tore a hole in reality itself, a writhing portal of darkness appearing behind it. Through the tear, Reed glimpsed a landscape of nightmares—twisted spires and pulsating organic matter stretching to a horizon illuminated by dying stars.

"When next we meet, the last of your precious seals will fall," the creature promised. "And I will wear your mate’s skin when I devour your world."

Before Reed could attack, the creature stepped backward into the portal, which sealed itself with a sound like tearing flesh. The abrupt silence that followed was almost as deafening as the creature’s voice had been.

Reed staggered to his feet, helping Elara up. His mind raced with the implications of what he had just learned. Every Hero across the continent carried the seed of these ancient entities within them. The system he had believed in—the very foundation of their society—had been compromised from the beginning.

"Send word to all remaining Lords," Reed commanded, his voice steady despite the horror churning within him. "The Heroes are compromised. All of them."

Elara nodded, her face pale. "And what of Lady Shia? She carries a fragment as well, but she is no Hero..."

Reed’s expression darkened. "I must find her before they do. Prepare the ritual chamber—we need to establish a connection."

As his servants rushed to carry out his orders, Reed stared at the space where the portal had been. The entity’s final words echoed in his mind: "I will wear your mate’s skin when I devour your world."

A new notification pulsed at the edge of his vision:

[SYSTEM ALERT] Corruption detected in Hero Network: 87% of registered Heroes compromised Estimated time until total system failure: 42 hours Emergency Protocol "Terminus" authorized Warning: Activating Protocol will sever all Hero-Lord bonds permanently

Reed’s blood ran cold as a final, horrifying realization struck him. The moment he had merged the three fragments and become the Primal Warden, he had inadvertently triggered a failsafe—one that had alerted the ancient entities to their opportunity.

He wasn’t just fighting to save the world now. He was fighting to correct a mistake that he himself had set in motion.

In the distance, beyond the boundaries of his domain, a pillar of darkness rose into the sky—another portal opening. And through his connection to the fragments, Reed could sense Shia moving toward it, her consciousness no longer entirely her own.