The platform was quiet when they surfaced.
The medics were waiting. The engineers were standing by. The other hunters—Mira, Rhea, Marcus, Caelus—were gathered at the edge of the deck, their faces pale, their eyes fixed on the water.
Ami climbed out first, her arm still in a sling, her face streaked with salt and exhaustion. Then Corrin. Then Kael.
Then Aurelion.
He pulled himself onto the deck, his leg screaming, his side burning, the shards on his back humming softly. He collapsed onto the metal surface, gasping, bleeding, alive.
The medics rushed forward. The hunters gathered around.
"What happened?" Mira demanded.
Ami answered. "Demons. In the water. They attacked the submarine."
"Demons? Underwater?"
"Specialized. Evolved for the deep." She glanced at Aurelion. "He killed one. With his bare hands. And then..."
"Then the city pulled me back," Aurelion said, his voice hoarse. "It didn't want me to leave."
The medical tent was crowded.
Aurelion lay on a cot, his leg bandaged, his side stitched, his arm wrapped. The medics had done what they could. The wounds would heal. But he needed rest.
Ami sat beside him, her arm in a sling, her eyes tired but sharp.
"You need to tell them," she said quietly.
"I know."
"About the chamber. The chains. The name."
He looked at her. "They won't believe me."
"They will. They've seen too much not to."
The debriefing was held in the platform's main conference room.
Aurelion stood at the front, leaning on a cane the medics had given him. The hunters were gathered around the table—Mira, Rhea, Marcus, Caelus, and the others. Corrin was at his side, his notes spread across the table.
"We found something," Aurelion began. "Beneath the city. A chamber. Small. Circular. Chains on the walls. A pedestal at the center."
"Chains?" Marcus asked.
"Something was held there. Something that had been restrained for a very long time."
Rhea frowned. "What was it?"
Aurelion shook his head. "I don't know. It was gone. The pedestal was empty. But the chamber was fresh—not ancient. Someone had been there recently."
"The Demon King," Mira said.
"Possibly."
"And the name?" Caelus asked. "You mentioned a name."
Aurelion was silent for a moment. He could feel Ami's eyes on him, waiting. The others were waiting too.
Azrathor, he thought. My name. My old name.
But I can't tell them that. Not yet.
"There was a name," he said carefully. "Carved into the mural in the Hall of Kings. At the bottom. Hidden."
"What name?" Mira pressed.
Aurelion met her eyes. "Azrathor."
The room went silent.
Corrin spoke, breaking the tension. "I've been studying the texts. The name Azrathor appears in several fragments. Not as a king—as a title. The First King."
"The First King of what?" Mira asked.
"Of everything." Corrin spread his notes across the table. "The texts describe him as the one who stood before the gate. The one who held it shut. The one who gave himself to the seal."
Aurelion stared at the notes.
The First King.
Azrathor.
My name.
Ami frowned. "But why would the Demon King care about an ancient name?"
Aurelion didn't answer. He couldn't.
The meeting ended.
The hunters dispersed, their faces grim, their minds full of questions. Aurelion stayed at the table, staring at Corrin's notes.
Ami sat beside him.
"You're thinking," she said.
"Always."
"About what?"
He looked at her. "About the chamber. The chains. The name."
"You looked strange when Corrin mentioned it. Like you recognized it."
He was silent for a moment. "I did."
"From where?"
He couldn't tell her. Not yet.
"From a dream," he said. "A vision. When I touched the shard in the pyramid. I saw... I saw a figure. White-haired. Silver armor. Standing before the gate."
"And the name?"
"Carved beneath him."
Ami studied him. "You think you're connected to him?"
"I don't know what I think."
That night, Aurelion stood on the observation deck.
The water below was dark and still. The platform's lights reflected off the surface, creating a shifting landscape of silver and black.
He was not alone.
Caelus joined him at the railing.
"You've been quiet," the Ascendant said.
"I've been thinking."
"About the name?"
Aurelion nodded.
Caelus was silent for a moment. "I've seen that name before. Not in texts. In visions. When I fought you in Whisperwood, I saw something in your eyes. Something old. Something that didn't belong."
"Did you tell anyone?"
"No. I didn't understand it." He looked at Aurelion. "I still don't."
Aurelion said nothing.
"But I know one thing," Caelus continued. "You're not a threat. You're a key. And the city knows it. The gate knows it. The Demon King knows it."
"The Demon King?"
"He's been here. In the city. Recently." Caelus pointed at the water. "There are tracks on the seafloor. Fresh. He came here to find the same thing you did."
"What?"
"The truth."
The next morning, the expedition prepared to descend again.
Aurelion stood at the edge of the platform, Gatekeeper in his hand, the shards on his back humming softly. He was ready. His leg still ached, his side still burned, but he was ready.
Ami approached him.
"You're going back down?"
"I have to."
"Your leg—"
"Will heal."
"Your side—"
"Will heal."
She stepped closer. "Then I'm coming with you."
"Your arm—"
"Will heal." She met his eyes. "I'm not letting you go alone."
Before he could answer, a voice cut through the morning air.
"Kade. A word."
Valeris stood at the edge of the platform, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable. Behind her, two government officials stood with tablets and stern faces.
Aurelion walked toward her. "What is it?"
Valeris didn't mince words. "You're not going back down."
He stared at her. "What?"
"You're a liability in your current state." She gestured at his leg, his bandaged side, the exhaustion in his eyes. "You can barely stand. You can't fight. And the last time you went down, you nearly died."
"I survived."
"Barely."
"I can—"
"No." Her voice was final. "You're staying on the platform. The medics are clear—you need rest. At least forty-eight hours."
Ami stepped forward. "He's the only one who can—"
"He's the only one who can get himself killed." Valeris's tone softened, just slightly. "I'm not trying to punish you, Kade. I'm trying to keep you alive."
Aurelion looked at the water. At the city below. At the truth waiting beneath the waves.
"Forty-eight hours," he said.
"Forty-eight hours."
He turned and limped back toward the medical tent.
Ami followed him.
"You're just going to accept that?"
"I'm going to rest," he said. "And then I'm going back down."
"Even if they say no?"
He looked at her. "They won't say no. They can't afford to."
She studied him. "You're planning something."
He didn't answer.
The submarine descended without him.
Aurelion stood at the edge of the platform, watching it disappear into the dark water. The shards on his back hummed softly, as if they too were watching, waiting.
Forty-eight hours, he thought. And then I'm going back.
Whatever it takes.