Abyssborn: The Forsaken King

The abyss lurched forward, swallowing Kael in an instant.

Darkness engulfed him.

A weight settled on his chest, pressing down like an unseen force.

Then—whispers.

"You resist the inevitable."

"Let go."

"Become part of us."

Kael's vision blurred, the world around him shifting.

He wasn't on the battlefield anymore.

Instead, he stood before a colossal throne, jagged and twisting with abyssal veins.

From its seat, a shadowed figure loomed—its form shifting, warping, refusing to settle into a single shape.

And in the distance, Kael saw a ruined city.

Blackstone walls collapsed.

Blood-red rivers ran through the streets.

Corpses lined the ground—some human, some twisted into something else.

This wasn't just any place.

It was Vael'Tharun—the once-glorious kingdom that fell to the abyss a thousand years ago.

"A vision?" Kael muttered.

"No."

The voice came from the throne.

"A warning."

The abyss churned, manifesting a massive form.

Kael's body tensed.

A name surfaced in his mind—one he had only heard in myths.

The Sovereign of the Black Maw.

Xeltharoth.

A being said to have devoured entire realms, spreading the abyss's corruption through any who dared to challenge it.

And it was staring directly at him.

---

"You are not meant to fight us, child."

The voice echoed in his skull.

"You were meant to rule by our side."

Kael's hands clenched into fists.

He felt the abyss's power creeping into him, slithering through his veins, offering strength.

Tempting him.

But he knew the cost.

He had seen it before—the lost souls who surrendered to the abyss.

Who became its puppets.

He gritted his teeth.

"I am not yours to command."

A silence fell.

Then—Xeltharoth's shadowy form lunged forward.

Fangs. Claws. A tide of pure darkness.

Kael had no time to react—

And the abyss swallowed him whole.