The fire had almost died.
Only small red embers remained between Yusuf and Feroz.
The forest around them was quiet again, but the silence no longer felt peaceful.
Feroz sat with his back against a fallen tree, staring at the faint glow of the coals.
"Seeker," he said quietly.
Yusuf glanced at him.
"You heard that word before?"
Feroz shook his head.
"You said something worse than the Hunters is coming. That's what you meant?"
Yusuf didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he reached into his coat and removed a small metal object.
He tossed it into the dying fire.
The metal heated quickly, revealing faint engravings across its surface.
Feroz leaned forward slightly.
"What is that?"
"A warning," Yusuf said.
The engravings formed a circular pattern — twelve small symbols surrounding a single larger one.
Feroz frowned.
"The council."
Yusuf nodded.
"They mark the release of something only when they are desperate."
Feroz's voice lowered.
"And now they're desperate because of me."
"Yes."
The wind moved softly through the trees.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Feroz asked something that had been lingering in his mind.
"You said earlier that the Hunters used to be human."
Yusuf nodded slowly.
"They were the first to touch the source."
"What about the council?"
Yusuf's expression hardened slightly.
"They learned from that mistake."
"Meaning?"
"They never touched the source directly."
Feroz frowned.
"Then how do they control it?"
Yusuf looked at him carefully.
"Through people like your father."
The words sat heavy in the cold air.
Feroz looked down at his arm.
The mark had faded again, but he could still feel its presence beneath the skin.
"And now… me."
Yusuf didn't deny it.
The last ember of the fire dimmed.
Darkness surrounded them.
Suddenly—
Yusuf's head snapped toward the forest.
Feroz noticed immediately.
"What?"
Yusuf stood slowly.
His voice dropped.
"Too quiet."
Feroz stood as well, ignoring the pain in his ribs.
The forest seemed frozen.
No insects.
No wind.
Nothing.
Then—
A low sound echoed between the trees.
Not footsteps.
Something heavier.
Something dragging across the ground.
Feroz's pulse quickened.
From the darkness ahead, two faint blue lights appeared.
Eyes.
But larger than the Hunters.
Much larger.
The figure stepped forward slowly.
Tall.
Unnaturally tall.
Its arms were long and thin, almost reaching the ground.
Blue energy crawled across its skin like veins of light.
The Seeker.
Feroz felt the mark on his arm react instantly.
Burning.
The creature tilted its head slightly as it looked at him.
When it spoke, its voice sounded hollow… like several voices speaking at once.
"Key located."
Yusuf stepped forward.
"Run," he said quietly to Feroz.
Feroz didn't move.
"I'm not leaving you."
"You must," Yusuf replied firmly. "This is not something you fight."
The Seeker took another step.
The ground beneath it darkened slightly, as if the earth itself rejected its presence.
"Guardian identified," the creature said.
Its glowing eyes shifted between them.
"Resistance probability: irrelevant."
Without warning—
It moved.
Not fast like the Hunters.
But unstoppable.
Every step crushed branches and stone.
Yusuf drew his blade.
"Go!" he shouted.
Feroz hesitated.
But then—
A memory flashed in his mind.
The older version of himself.
The empty eyes.
The cold voice.
This is what happens when you fail.
Feroz clenched his jaw.
He stepped backward into the trees.
Then turned and ran.
Behind him—
The forest exploded with sound as Yusuf engaged the creature.
Blue light flashed between the trees.
The ground trembled.
Feroz ran deeper into the darkness, every breath burning his lungs.
But as he moved farther away—
Something strange happened.
The mark on his arm began glowing again.
Not violently.
Not painfully.
Almost…
Guiding him.
Pulling him in a direction he didn't expect.
Not toward the mountains.
Not toward the city.
But somewhere older.
Somewhere hidden.
Miles away, in a quiet valley far from the conflict—
An old man sat inside a small stone lodge.
The room smelled faintly of incense.
Ancient books covered the shelves.
The man slowly opened his eyes.
A faint golden symbol glowed briefly on the wooden floor beneath him.
He whispered softly to himself.
"So it begins."
Outside the lodge, several other figures in simple robes stood in silence beneath the night sky.
They had been waiting.
For years.
One of them approached the old man.
"Master," he said.
The old man stood slowly.
"The boy has awakened."
The younger man looked confused.
"How do you know?"
The old man looked toward the distant mountains.
"Because the balance has shifted."
He paused.
"And when the balance shifts…"
His eyes darkened slightly.
"…the Free Masons start hunting ghosts."
The younger man frowned.
"What ghosts?"
The old man smiled faintly.
"The one they have been trying to kill for thirty years."
Far away…
In another forgotten corner of the world…
A man with grey hair walked alone through a desert road under the moonlight.
He stopped suddenly.
He felt it too.
The awakening.
He looked toward the horizon.
"They finally found the boy," he murmured.
For a long moment, he stood still.
Then he continued walking.
Because after decades in hiding—
The war he had once abandoned was beginning again.