CRUCIBLE OF SHADOWS

A cloak concealed Kairos as he walked through the streets of the Shadow Clans. His mind churned with thoughts, his steps slow, measured. Prince Kharon's actions disturbed him deeply. The prince had seen through his deception—he knew Kairos was feeding lies to the king, to Barathis, and Vorath. And yet, he had done nothing.

Why?

Kairos had replayed the moment over and over in his mind, but there was no clear answer. Kharon could have exposed him in an instant. The king's wrath would have torn Kairos apart without hesitation. Instead, the prince had merely sent him home, as if it were all part of some grand design.

A chill crept up Kairos' spine. "What is the prince planning?"

His fingers twitched involuntarily beneath his cloak. "What should I do?"

For the first time in a long while, Kairos had no answer. A fleeting anger stirred within him. He hated this feeling—this uncertainty, this helplessness. He had fought too hard, worked too meticulously to reach this point, only to find himself at the mercy of a single man's whim. Stopping now was not an option. But moving forward meant walking a blade's edge, with Prince Kharon holding the hilt.

Suddenly, a voice echoed through the street.

"Kairos!"

His body tensed. The voice was familiar. It called again, closer this time.

"Kairos!"

He turned, his gaze locking onto the source. A demon stood before him, breathing heavily as though he had been running to catch up. An odd figure—a demon dressed in a formal suit, a gentleman's hat perched atop his head.

Kairos recognized him immediately.

Instructor Valkos Vinyl.

A teacher at the Academy of the Elite. Myra's former school. But more than that—one of the few demons who had ever shown Kairos kindness. Despite the laws forbidding a demi-demon from attending, Valkos had secretly helped him master his demon ability-illusion formations.

"Kairos," Valkos exhaled, catching his breath. "I knew it was you." His voice was rough with age. "How are you?"

Kairos forced a smile. "I'm fine, sir. And you?"

"Good, good," Valkos stretched his back, grimacing. "This back of mine is going to kill me one day."

Kairos murmured under his breath, "Still having the same problem?"

"Unfortunately," Valkos chuckled before his expression turned serious. "What brings you back here? Shouldn't you be at the castle?"

Kairos met Valkos' gaze. "I just came to see Myra and… Mysa."

At the mention of the name, Valkos raised a brow. "Even after all these years, you still call her that?" He shook his head. "She practically raised you."

Kairos remained silent. Mother. The word felt foreign on his tongue. Though Mysa had cared for him, loved him even, he could never bring himself to call her mother. And yet, he cherished her all the same.

Valkos broke the silence. His voice was low, deliberate. "Walk with me, Kairos. There's something I need to discuss with you."

Kairos hesitated, but the weight in Valkos' tone left no room for argument.

The two walked side by side, a tense quiet stretching between them. Valkos was not one for silence. He enjoyed conversation, yet now, after so long, he spoke little. It set Kairos on edge.

Then, they reached it.

A towering structure loomed before them, wrapped in a shifting, pulsing force field.

Kairos froze. His breath hitched.

Khra'gixxoth.

The prison. The place where it all began.

The place where he had been thrown upon arrival in this realm.

Khra'gixxoth was no ordinary prison. It was a place of horrors, designed to contain the most dangerous demons, demi-demons, and even humans. Twisted, nightmarish corridors stretched endlessly within, guarded by monstrous wardens. Those who entered rarely left. Their bodies remained, but their souls were slowly devoured by the abyss of the demon realm.

Kairos' hand trembled against his will. His right hand—shaking. He grabbed it with his left, trying to steady himself. Breathe. Stay calm.

The memories clawed at the edges of his mind. Pain. Darkness. Screams.

Valkos spoke, his voice calm yet knowing. "I see you're still haunted by this place." He gazed at the prison. "I know you don't want to be here. But there is something I must show you."

Kairos clenched his teeth, forcing himself to breathe steadily. If Valkos had brought him here, it was not without reason. Valkos was not the type to torment him needlessly.

"...Fine," Kairos muttered, barely audible.

The two approached the force field's entrance. Two hulking demons stood guard, clad in pitch-black uniforms.

Valkos greeted them casually. "Good morning, gentlemen. I've come to visit someone."

One of the demons squinted. "Instructor Valkos? Shouldn't you be teaching?" His eyes drifted to Kairos, narrowing. "And who's this?"

Kairos remained silent.

The demon frowned. "Remove your hood."

Kairos hesitated but complied. He pulled back his cloak, revealing his face.

The demon studied him, tilting his head. "You look familiar…"

Valkos shifted uneasily. "We're in a hurry."

But the other guard had already stepped forward. He grinned. "You idiot, don't you recognize him? This is Kairos."

The first demon's expression shifted from confusion to realization. "Wait… Kairos? The first demi-demon ever imprisoned here?"

A mocking laugh escaped his lips. He clapped a heavy hand onto Kairos' shoulder. "Well, look at you, all grown up. A real demon now, huh?"

His companion smirked. "More demon than any of us. After all, wasn't it this guy who ate his own mother without even flinching?"

For a moment, Kairos' expression flickered. A storm brewed in his eyes. His fists clenched involuntarily.

But he controlled himself. He exhaled slowly, pushing the rage down.

"Enough," Valkos interjected. "We don't have time for this. Open the gate."

The demons exchanged glances. The first one, still grinning, cleared his throat. "Fine, fine. Open it up, Tharax."

With a low hum, a section of the force field shifted, parting just enough for them to pass.

Valkos stepped through.

Kairos hesitated for the briefest moment before following.

Once again, he had stepped into the abyss.

Once again, he had entered the place that had shaped him.

And he knew—whatever Valkos wished to show him, it would change everything.