The Rift Awakens

Kael Solis was 17 years old, and by all accounts, utterly ordinary. He went to school, struggled with math, laughed with friends during lunch breaks, and dreamed of finishing his final year without much drama. He lived in the quiet, grey city of Velhiran, a place as mundane as its rain-soaked streets.

But lately, something had changed.

For several nights in a row, Kael’s dreams had grown strange. Whispers echoed in the darkness. Shapes with no faces loomed at the edge of his vision. But on this night, the dream was different. Vivid. Real.

He stood in an endless, blackened void.

No ground. No sky. Just him… and it.

From the shadows emerged a figure — tall, featureless, cloaked in tattered robes that shifted like liquid smoke. Its face was hidden, but its voice… its voice cracked the silence like a blade through glass.

“You are the heir of the UNKNOWN.”
“The seal breaks. The world remembers.”

Kael took a step back. “Who... are you?”

The entity didn't answer directly. Instead, it raised an emaciated hand, pointing at Kael’s chest. A glowing sigil — a mark he had never seen before — ignited there for a brief instant. A swirling emblem of chaos, ever-shifting and alive.

“They will come for you now.** All of them.**”

Kael gasped, the sound swallowed by the void.

“Wait! What does that mean?!”

But the dream was already unraveling — like smoke in the wind.

He awoke in his bed, drenched in cold sweat, his heart thundering in his chest.

The sun had not yet risen.

Panting, Kael stared at the ceiling of his small room, trying to calm his racing thoughts. The echo of that voice — that name — haunted him.

UNKNOWN.

“It’s just a dream…” he muttered to himself. “It doesn’t mean anything…”

He lay back down, closing his eyes.

He didn’t believe the words.

Days passed.

Kael tried to ignore it — the unease, the whispers that seemed to linger on the edge of hearing. But it clung to him like a shadow.

Then came the day everything changed.

It was evening. Kael was walking home after school, backpack slung over one shoulder, earbuds in. The sky was painted with hues of gold and grey as the sun dipped below the city skyline.

That’s when the air changed.

Everything became still.

A strange static prickled his skin. The streetlights flickered, and then—

CRACK—

A sound like thunder and ripping cloth tore through the air.

Above the city, the sky split open.

A gaping rift appeared, jagged and howling, as if the heavens themselves had been wounded. Purple lightning cracked around it, and from within… something emerged.

A creature. Massive, malformed, crawling into the world like an infection. Its limbs twisted in impossible ways. Its maw gnashed with teeth that weren’t meant to exist.

People screamed. Cars crashed. The city fell into chaos.

And from that same rift came warriors — tall, armored figures wielding glowing, ethereal weapons. Each one moved with supernatural speed and precision, cutting down the creature’s limbs, pushing it back. Their armor shimmered with shades of obsidian and silver, engraved with glowing runes.

At their front stood a man unlike the others.

Zerath Caelus.

Commandant of the Noctis Éclat, the dimensional guardians.

His presence was undeniable — noble, terrifying, commanding. Clad in a long, storm-grey mantle and wielding a massive lance known as Riftpiercer, he struck down the creature with a final blow that shattered the street beneath them.

The monster howled and dissolved into ash.

Victory.

But then…

Zerath froze.

His eyes scanned the battlefield — and landed on Kael, standing motionless on the edge of the destruction.

Zerath's eyes narrowed. The aura... it was unmistakable. It wasn’t just energy. It was something older, something primal.

“No... It can’t be...”

Others felt it too. The legion soldiers paused, tense, murmuring.

“That presence… It’s him…”

“The UNKNOWN... It’s returned.”

Zerath’s expression hardened.

He stepped forward.

“I won’t allow history to repeat itself.”

Without warning, he launched forward, Riftpiercer aimed directly at Kael.

Kael couldn’t move. He didn’t understand. What was happening? Why was this man attacking him?

But just as the lance was about to strike—

Clang!

Sparks flew as blades met.

A woman stood between Kael and Zerath. Her figure was slender, graceful, cloaked in flowing violet robes. Her eyes, glowing amethyst. In her hands, twin daggers danced like shadows — Twilight Fang.

Lyra Cerys, commander of the Vespera Umbra.

“You won’t kill him, Zerath. Not today.”

Zerath snarled, “You know what he is. You know what he’ll become.”

“And you know we don't decide fate.”

The two commanders clashed — light against shadow, precision against finesse. Their battle shook the street as dimensional energy exploded with every strike.

Kael backed away, his vision spinning. His chest burned. Something inside him was awakening — something ancient, hungry, and calm.

And then—

It broke free.

Kael’s body stiffened. His eyes went hollow, glowing faintly. His expression became serene… eerily detached.

A calm filled him. Absolute, endless.

Power surged.

The ground trembled. The sky darkened. Lyra and Zerath both turned, sensing it too late.

Kael’s body was consumed in light — not divine, but raw and primordial. Then—

BOOM.

A shockwave blasted outward, obliterating everything in a massive radius. Buildings disintegrated. Streets cracked open. Soldiers were thrown into the air.

Then silence.

In the center of the crater, Kael lay unconscious, surrounded by devastation.

Zerath rose from the rubble, bloodied, eyes wide in horror.

“It’s him… The true UNKNOWN has returned.”

Far away, atop a distant rooftop, a lone figure watched through glowing eyes — young, expressionless.

“At last... he awakens.”