Chapter 4: The Watchers Move
High above the city, hidden in the shadows of the old Sentinel Tower, three figures in obsidian cloaks stood around a crystal basin filled with swirling silver mist. Their faces were covered, but their voices carried power.
"He's awakened."
The mist shimmered to life, revealing Rayven's face as he fought the Echo Beast in the subway. His mark pulsed with brilliant light.
"Too early," another muttered. "The heir shouldn't have surfaced this soon."
"The seal cracked on its own. The city chose him. Whether he's ready or not—doesn't matter anymore."
The tallest figure leaned over the basin. "Send the Watcher. Observe the boy. If he becomes a threat… eliminate him."
Meanwhile, in the old cathedral, Rayven couldn't sleep.
Even after everything he'd been through—fighting a monster, saving lives, and literally summoning chains of light—his brain wouldn't let him rest. He sat cross-legged on the cold stone floor of the sanctuary, staring at a glowing map etched into the wall. Selene had shown it to him just an hour ago.
It wasn't a normal map of the city.
This one pulsed with energy—Vein Lines, she called them. Currents of arcane power running beneath the streets like blood through arteries.
One of them ran directly beneath the cathedral. Another crossed near his old neighborhood. And several more intersected at places where "incidents" had been reported over the last few days.
Rayven sighed. "Feels like a damn board game, but the city's playing itself."
Selene walked in, carrying two bowls of steaming soup. "You're still up."
"Hard to sleep after… all that."
She handed him a bowl and sat beside him. "The Vein Lines are waking faster than we expected. The monsters won't stop now. And neither will the city's defenses."
"Defenses?"
She pointed to a circular section of the map. "This is the Cathedral's underground. It wasn't just a church—it used to be a training ground. There's a sealed chamber beneath us. Only someone with the Heir's mark can open it."
Rayven blinked. "Wait, seriously? Like a vault or something?"
She nodded. "You'll find your first relic there. A key to unlocking your bloodline's potential."
Rayven looked down at his palm. "More glowing magic stuff?"
"Not just magic," she said. "Memories. Your lineage. The truth."
He stood slowly. "Then what are we waiting for?"
They descended a long, spiral staircase that hadn't been used in years. Dust clung to the walls. The air smelled of stone and metal and something older—like secrets that had been buried too long.
At the base of the stairs stood a stone door, covered in ancient runes.
Selene stepped back. "Touch the center. Let your mark do the rest."
Rayven reached out.
The second his palm touched the cold stone, the rune on his hand flared white-hot.
The door groaned.
The runes lit up like a circuit board, flowing outward in perfect symmetry. Then—click—the door split down the center and opened.
Inside was a vast, circular chamber filled with pillars and torches that lit on their own. In the center floated a pedestal—and on it, a metallic gauntlet.
It was dark silver, trimmed with blue light. The fingertips were clawed, the forearm etched with more of that strange script.
Rayven stepped closer. The gauntlet pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat.
Selene's voice was quiet. "That belonged to the First Heir—your ancestor. He used it to channel and focus the city's power. It only responds to blood."
Rayven reached out and touched it.
The moment he did, the world shifted.
Images exploded in his mind. Battles in the sky. Armies of beasts. A younger version of him—or someone who looked like him—fighting beside armored guardians. A throne of steel. Betrayal. Blood. Fire.
When he snapped back, he was gasping.
Selene steadied him. "You just absorbed a memory imprint. That's what relics do. They teach."
Rayven stared at the gauntlet now attached to his arm. It fit perfectly. The blue lines glowed with new intensity.
"I saw… everything," he whispered. "Or… parts of it."
"You'll see more as you bond with the relic. But now, you're no longer just a target. You're a beacon. And that means they'll be coming."
Rayven narrowed his eyes. "Who's they?"
Before Selene could answer, they heard the sound—a crow cawing three times, then silence.
Selene's face darkened. "We're being watched."
Across the street from the cathedral, a figure leaned against a rooftop railing. Their eyes glowed faintly gold under a hood.
They whispered into a black crystal: "Target has acquired first relic. The city's awakening is accelerating. He's unstable… but promising."
A distorted voice crackled through the crystal: "Maintain surveillance. Do not interfere. Yet."
The Watcher turned back toward the cathedral.
And smiled.