Beastbound: Reincarnated in the Abyss

The Abyss didn't breathe, didn't whisper, didn't churn as Raen expected.

It waited.

Raen stood at the mouth of the clearing beyond the Corridor of Names, Ember Vow at his side, Hollowfang pacing in restless loops. The air was dry enough to burn. Even Despair Maw, whose presence usually warped the very light around them, coiled tighter into the deep gloom, uneasy.

Then the waiting ended.

A ripple crossed the black floor—just once. A line of silvered cracks bloomed underfoot, spiderwebbing out in silent precision.

From those cracks rose a figure wreathed in bone-pale flame.

Tall. Lean. Draped in robes that didn't shift with the currents of the Abyss, as if the void itself refused to touch him. His face was hidden behind an iron mask, carved with a dozen faintly glowing runes that crawled like worms beneath the surface. Where his eyes should've been were pits of ember-light, hollow yet alive.

[Masked Class: Divine Revenant]

[Alias: The Nameless Traitor]

The system didn't bother to announce anything else. Some truths had already been carved into Raen's marrow.

"Your executioner returns," Ember Vow whispered.

Raen's fingers flexed at his side. "No. My orchestrator. He was the mind behind it. The blade was just his servant."

"So was I, once," Ember Vow said quietly. "Do not let your anger lead you."

Raen stepped forward. Not out of anger. But the motion felt like sinking into an old wound.

The Revenant's voice arrived before his mouth moved—echoing, cracked, the syllables peeling against Raen's ears as if spoken across glass.

"Raen Tiberis. At last, the Abyss lays us at one another's feet again."

Raen exhaled once, slow. "You speak like this was inevitable."

"It was." The Revenant tilted his masked head. "The Abyss calls to the betrayed, the betrayer, the bound. And to those who wear all three faces at once."

Raen's jaw ticked. "Then which are you?"

"A mirror."

Hollowfang snarled, hackles bristling. Its eyes became void-slick coins, focusing on the Revenant's throat. Beside it, Despair Maw began to unspool like black silk from under Raen's shadow, rows of teeth knitting into hateful shapes.

But Raen lifted a hand, and both beasts stilled.

He stepped closer, each bootfall striking the cracked ground with a sound that felt too loud. As if the Abyss itself was listening.

"You planned my death. Lied to my commanders, bribed their quartermasters. You forged the decree that made me a traitor."

The Revenant didn't deny it. "I did."

"Why?"

A beat of silence.

Then the Revenant's shoulders twitched, not quite a shrug. "Because the Abyss needed you. And so did I."

Raen's heart didn't race. It settled—too calm, too cold. "Try again. The truth, this time."

The Revenant's hands came up, skeletal and oddly graceful. His fingers curled in a gesture that might've been apology, might've been contempt.

"Because I was afraid. You were winning too many loyalties. Among the nobles. Among the lowborn. Even among the gods who watched your campaigns. And when men fear the bright star rising above them… they snuff it out. Before it becomes a sun they can no longer eclipse."

Raen's throat worked. A strange pity tried to bloom in his chest, but he crushed it.

"So you killed me. For your own standing."

"And yet look," the Revenant said, voice echoing like broken bells. "Here we stand, side by side in the Abyss. My crime is paid for a thousandfold. I am bound to this form, stripped of my mortal name. I cannot leave. I cannot ascend."

Raen tilted his head. "Good."

A tremor ran through the Revenant's robes. Not quite a laugh. More like something cracking underneath the mask. "But even now, the Abyss ties us together. I felt your passage through the Corridor. I saw your truths. Did you see mine?"

Raen's eyes narrowed.

The Revenant reached up. His fingers found the edge of his iron mask—and peeled it away.

Beneath lay not flesh, but a swirling storm of faces. Some Raen recognized: old generals, merchant lords, priests who had blessed his banners. Others were strangers. All were screaming silently, their mouths open in agony, their eyes begging.

"My price," the Revenant said calmly. "For orchestrating your death. The Abyss does not forget. Each lie I fed your world became a mouth upon my soul."

Raen didn't step back. He only let his hand fall to rest on Hollowfang's shoulder.

"Then why come here? What do you want?"

The mask slipped back into place, the hideous storm vanishing. The Revenant's ember-eyes fixed on Raen. "Because I see the tides shifting. The Abyss fractures. Rival heirs awaken. And among them is one who will not stop at rewriting pacts. Kahless seeks to merge the Abyss with the mortal realm. A union that would devour both."

Raen frowned. The name cut through him like ice.

"You think to warn me?"

"I think to align. Temporarily." The Revenant inclined his head. "Because for all I am… I was once a tactician. And I see only two paths: we break Kahless together, or he breaks us all."

Raen stood silent for a breath that stretched impossibly long.

Then he turned slightly, enough that Ember Vow could see his eyes.

She gave a faint nod.

Raen looked back at the Revenant. "You're right. But understand this—once Kahless is dust, your reckoning waits at the edge of my blade."

The Revenant's shoulders eased. Almost relief. "As it should be."

[Temporary Pact Formed: Divine Revenant of Betrayed Thrones]

[Shared Objective: Eliminate Rival Heir Kahless]

[Duration: Until Kahless is Slain]

A sharp wind tore through the clearing, scattering black dust. When it cleared, only Raen, Ember Vow, and his beasts remained. The Revenant had vanished—gone to prepare whatever schemes supported this new fragile cause.

Raen's hand dropped to his side, curling into a fist.

Ember Vow stepped close, her fingers ghosting along his knuckles. "That was mercy, in its own shape."

"No," Raen said softly. "It was strategy. Mercy is a luxury I haven't earned."

She studied him for a heartbeat, then let her hand slip away.

Together they began to walk, their shadows long behind them, stretching back through corridors of names that no longer needed to be spoken.

Ahead, the Veiled City awaited — and somewhere within it, Kahless.