The Eternal Flame no longer burned gold.
Its core now pulsed with shadows—darker than night, hotter than any known fire.
Elder Bhairav stood before it alone, robes fluttering despite the windless air. His eyes, usually filled with quiet wisdom, now shimmered with fear.
> "The prophecy said the Flame would turn black if the Heir chose his own path…"
His hands trembled as he lifted a hidden scroll from the altar. Sealed in red wax, untouched for over a century, it was only to be opened if the Sun Clan's bloodline was fractured.
He broke the seal.
The parchment crackled open, revealing a symbol no living disciple had ever seen: a black sun with fangs. Beneath it, a warning written in a forgotten tongue, translated only by Bhairav:
> "When the Heir walks alone, the Sun shall cast no shadow.
When the Sun casts no shadow, the Old Ones will rise."
Suddenly—BOOM.
The flame pillar cracked from top to base, letting out a shriek like a dying god.
Outside, all birds in the valley took flight at once. Clouds gathered unnaturally. A solar eclipse began to form—yet there was no celestial prediction for it. The villagers screamed. The younger trainees dropped to their knees.
The sun was vanishing from the sky.
---
Far Away—Inside the Hidden Chamber
Veer stood at the edge of the third path.
Dark. Twisting. Breathing.
It wasn't made of stone or earth—it looked like solid shadow, pulsing like a living artery. Every instinct told him to turn back.
But something pulled at him. A whisper. Not from the phantom deity. Not from the clone. But from something older. Something that had been watching him since birth.
> "You have peeled back one seal. But this world is layered with rot."
Veer clenched his fists.
> "Who are you?"
> "We are the hunger buried beneath the flame.
We are the gods your ancestors betrayed.
And we… are waking."
Suddenly the walls around him cracked. Not from explosion. From corruption.
Black vines, burning with anti-fire, crawled down from the ceiling. They weren't physical—but spiritual curses, older than the clan itself.
The phantom flame guardian reappeared—but he was struggling. His form flickered, weakening.
> "They're here…" the guardian growled. "You've awakened Them... The Forgotten Ones."
> "Who?" Veer whispered.
> "The ones cast out before the Sun was born. They ruled when flame was still flesh."
---
Back in the Sun Clan Temple…
Ranya stumbled into the sacred hall, bleeding, face pale.
> "The eclipse… it's not natural!" she gasped. "The sun is being consumed."
Bhairav looked at her with hollow eyes.
> "Not consumed. Claimed.
The Black Sun is not just a sign.
It's a being.
And it's calling its Heir."
---
Back in the Shadow Realm
Veer stepped forward.
It didn't feel like ground. It felt like memories. Twisted memories not his own—flashes of screaming voices, suns dying in the sky, rivers boiling with blood. His stomach turned, but he kept walking.
Each step heavier than the last.
At the final step, the darkness before him opened.
---
Nowhere. And Everywhere.
He entered a world with no sky, no ground. Just gray-red mist, falling ash, and groaning winds that whispered like the dead.
Pressure crushed his chest with each breath.
Then he saw it.
A throne of bones in the distance, rising from cracked earth. Bodies twisted into its structure—ancient warriors, beasts, even gods, their forms frozen in agony.
And sitting on the throne…
Was a figure.
Massive. Still. Cloaked in flowing shadows, face replaced by a spinning black sun—burning in reverse, sucking in light instead of radiating it.
Veer's knees hit the ground.
Not from fear.
From instinct.
His blood remembered this being.
The entity spoke without a mouth. Its voice vibrated in Veer's soul.
> "You stepped beyond the cage. You carry the flame, but your soul… was always mine."
Veer's heart thudded once. Twice. Then stopped—for just a moment.
> "They called me The First Fire. The Flame that Consumed the Gods.
But now… they call me by a forgotten name."
> "The Black Sun."
Veer gasped. "You're the curse…!"
> "No. I am the origin. Your clan's flame was born from my ashes.
Their light—an imitation."
> "You are the first true heir in a thousand years.
And I did not call you here to destroy you…"
The black sun leaned forward slightly.
> "I called you here… to offer you my throne."
---
Meanwhile – In the Mortal Realm
The entire Sun Valley plunged into chaos.
All fire-based cultivation collapsed.
Trainees coughed blood. Elders couldn't ignite even a spark. Sacred pillars cracked open.
A child disciple collapsed near the lotus pond. Ranya rushed to him.
The child pointed upward weakly. The eclipse wasn't covering the sun—it was spreading, swallowing light like a living wound in the sky.
Bhairav shouted at the heavens:
> "The seal was never complete. Veer wasn't cursed—he was chosen."
---
Back in the Ashen Throne Realm
Veer rose, trembling.
> "I don't want your throne," he growled. "I'll find my own path. Even if I burn."
The Black Sun tilted.
> "Do you think you're free, Veer? Do you think rejecting me makes you righteous?"
> "Let me show you what happens when the world loses its light."
It snapped its fingers.
The skies ripped open.
Veer saw a mirror of his world—but twisted. Sun Clan temples in ruins. Villagers screaming. The valley scorched black.
And in the center… stood Veer.
But not him.
A future version—wearing black armor made of bones and ash, a burning crown, black fire pouring from his eyes.
A god of ruin.
> "Is that what I become?" Veer whispered.
> "This is what happens when you try to rewrite destiny," the Black Sun answered.
"Even light has a price."
Suddenly, the cursed mark on Veer's chest began to expand—spiraling across his body. His eyes flared gold… then black.
---
> "Stop."
The voice didn't come from the Black Sun.
It came from behind.
A figure in white robes, torn and burnt, emerged through the smoke. A lion-shaped mask covered his face.
His aura—immense, beyond any clan or element.
> "You don't belong here yet, boy," the masked man said.
Veer turned. "Who are you?"
> "I'm the one who refused the throne before you.
The first mistake.
And I came back to stop the next."
He raised his hand—and the realm trembled.
Even the Black Sun paused.
> "You have eight days left, Veer," the masked man said. "After that, your soul won't be yours."
He pointed toward a crack in the sky. "Run. Before He changes His mind."
The Black Sun stood from the throne.
> "Too late."
And stepped forward—
---