Beyond Worlds, Beneath the Star God

The day after the mist vanished, Emberhold was still on edge.

Though the fog had retreated, the weight it left behind was heavy—like a dream you can't shake, long after waking. Children flinched at their own shadows. Farmers kept torches burning even under sunlight. And Kun... couldn't sleep.

He didn't fear Seryna returning.

He feared what came next.

Because the fire inside him—it no longer slept either.

---

The Council's Warning

"You've stirred the hive," said Ignarok, pacing the council chamber like a caged beast.

"They won't send another dreamer," added Elandor, placing an old iron-bound book on the table. "They'll send something much worse."

He flipped open to a page inked in oily, runic glyphs.

A sketch dominated the parchment: a tall, hunched figure with a blade for a hand and no face—only a mouth filled with spiral teeth.

> "Malgrith," the mage whispered.

Lyra leaned closer. "What is he?"

Elandor looked up grimly. "Not a who. A when. Malgrith is what remains when too many regrets gather in one soul. He doesn't enter dreams. He hunts them."

---

In the Hours Between Sleep

That night, Kun lay still in his cot, sweat pooling beneath his neck despite the cold air.

He was exhausted.

His mind ached.

And still, he couldn't sleep.

But eventually, sleep came anyway.

And with it, the silence.

Then—scraping.

Faint. Metallic. Like steel dragged across stone.

Kun opened his eyes.

He stood in a corridor—a hallway he didn't recognize. Metal. Starship architecture. Lights flickering. He could smell ozone, and behind it, rot.

The scraping grew louder.

He turned.

Malgrith stood there.

---

The Soul-Hunter Appears

He was tall. Thin. Wrapped in patchworked rags and bone armor that shifted like liquid shadow. His left hand was a curved blade—obsidian-black, but dripping golden fire with every movement.

He had no eyes.

Only that mouth.

Wide. Smiling. Whispers leaking out from between serrated teeth.

> "You burn so beautifully…"

Kun summoned his fire instantly—but nothing came.

No spark.

No heat.

Only cold.

> "Here, you are not a god," Malgrith said. "Here, I am the air you breathe."

---

The Chase Through Memory

Malgrith moved like lightning.

Kun ran.

The corridor warped, twisted into childhood scenes—his first day at the academy, a birthday dinner with long-dead friends, the moment he launched into orbit.

Each memory passed in blinks—and Malgrith was always there, walking, grinning.

> "You think memory protects you?"

"I eat memory."

Kun stumbled into a chamber—his final mission.

The capsule.

The black hole.

Malgrith stepped forward.

> "You were supposed to die in silence. The spark was not meant to survive."

---

The Star Within

Kun dropped to his knees.

It was true. All of it. He had been nothing. A remnant of a civilization gone. A failed escape. A spark buried in cosmic debris.

He clenched his fists.

Tears burned his eyes.

> "But I did survive," he whispered.

> "And I carry them with me."

Malgrith tilted his head. "Who?"

Kun stood.

"The ones who dreamed."

He reached inside.

Not for fire.

For remembrance.

---

Soulfire Ignites

It came like a flood.

Not flame—but light.

Soft. Eternal. Not burning, but healing.

Faces appeared behind him—friends, strangers, ancient scientists, forgotten rebels. The ones whose voices still echoed in his dreams.

They stood behind him, not as ghosts, but as embers.

Each one fed the star inside him.

And in that light, his flame roared back to life.

Malgrith hissed, staggering.

> "You carry... too many."

Kun raised a hand.

A new power bloomed in his palm—Soulfire.

> "They're not weight," he said.

"They're wings."

---

The Dream Battle

Malgrith shrieked and lunged.

But this time, Kun met him blade for blade.

No longer was the dream his prison.

Now, it was his forge.

Each strike of his Soulfire blade tore through Malgrith's illusions. Each movement remade the dream world—turning shadows into stars, rot into roots, pain into strength.

Malgrith screamed, finally faltering.

Kun drove his blade forward—through the heart of darkness.

The dream exploded in white.

---

Back in Reality

Kun woke with a gasp, drenched in sweat.

The cot beneath him had scorched.

Lyra burst in. "You were screaming. The whole tower lit up."

He looked at his hands.

They shimmered faintly—etched now with two sigils.

The crescent moon.

And a burning spiral.

Elandor appeared behind Lyra, breath caught in his throat.

"You fought him," he whispered.

Kun nodded. "And he's not the last."