The next morning came too fast.
Eli sat at the edge of his bed, staring at the fading mark on his collarbone. It still pulsed faintly under his skin — not painful, not visible to anyone else… but real. Real in the same way thunder felt even when the storm was still miles away.
He tugged his hoodie on, swallowed down the fear like bitter coffee, and told himself again: You're fine. You're just tired.
The campus was louder today. Noisier. Like the world knew something was shifting and it didn't know how to stay still anymore.
Liam was already in the library. Eli found him buried in books so old they smelled like dust and blood.
"I asked around," Liam whispered before Eli could even say hi. "The Hollow Sect was real. Maybe still is. One of their old meeting places? Right under this campus."
Eli frowned. "That's... comforting."
"You joke," Liam said, "but something's wrong. You feel it, right?"
He didn't answer. But yeah. He felt it. Every cell in his body felt it.
By noon, it got worse.
Celeste tripped while running toward them in the cafeteria — again — but this time, when she landed with a hard thud, her eyes were wide. She wasn't laughing.
"There was a man," she said, breathless. "Tall. Pale. He just stood near the music room. He looked at me like I was... nothing."
"Did he say anything?" Eli asked, panic blooming quietly in his gut.
"He didn't have to," Celeste said. "His eyes said everything."
Jace sat beside her without a word, one hand on her shoulder, for once not cracking a joke. It was that bad.
And in that moment, Eli realized something:
This wasn't just about him anymore. The shadows weren't just watching him. They were watching them.
That night, the city cracked.
A fire broke out two blocks away — one of the old churches swallowed in flames so fast the fire trucks arrived too late. Students stood on the dorm balconies watching the sky turn red, smoke blooming like hell's flower.
Eli watched too, silent, the glow reflecting in his eyes.
"This wasn't an accident," Liam muttered beside him. "I know it."
Eli felt it. In his bones.
It was a warning. A message.
And it wasn't just from one side.
Far above, in a rooftop no human could reach, Khyro Dravenhart stood with his coat whipping in the wind.
Beside him, Aldric crouched near a scorch mark etched with demonic symbols.
"The Infernal Triad is getting reckless," Aldric said. "This was their doing."
Khyro said nothing. He stared toward the glow of the burning chapel, as if it offended him.
"You should have claimed the boy sooner," Aldric added.
Khyro's voice was quiet. Dangerous.
"And fall into the game they want? No. He will come to me… when it matters most."
---
And in another realm, painted with smoke and laughter, Zyren Dark Lucivar lounged in a throne of obsidian bones.
Kaelis sharpened his blade nearby. Lucan danced along the edge of fire, smiling.
"The vampires blink too slow," Zyren purred. "Let them watch. Let them wait."
Kaelis smirked. "And the boy?"
"The boy will burn," Zyren said, eyes glowing like embers. "And when he does, he'll scream my name first."
Down below, Eli sat alone in his room. The mark beneath his shirt burned brighter now — a warning or a calling, he couldn't tell.
He didn't know who was watching.
But he knew this:
He wasn't safe anymore.
And neither was anyone he loved.
Sleep didn't come that night.
Eli lay awake, the shadows in his room too deep, the silence too sharp. His phone buzzed once — a message from Celeste.
> "Are you okay?"
"I feel like something's watching me again."
He typed back slowly.
> "Me too."
Then he turned the screen down and stared at the ceiling like it might fall on him.
Somewhere past midnight, the air changed.
It wasn't wind. It wasn't a storm.
It was something... ancient. Crawling through the vents. Breathing through the walls.
It felt like something had peeled back a curtain — and something was now in the room with him.
Eli sat up, heart racing.
And that's when he heard it.
A voice. Right outside his window.
Not spoken. Not loud.
But inside his head.
"You belong to no one… yet."
He jumped, hand over his chest where the mark had started to throb — glowing faint red under his shirt like a silent scream.
He stood and opened the window with shaking fingers.
No one.
No footsteps. No figure.
But there — scratched faintly on the glass — a symbol.
Like a flame twisted into a spiral, and in its center, a single crimson drop.
The next morning, he almost pretended it didn't happen.
He showered. He dressed. He left his room like a sleepwalker.
Until Jace noticed the new mark on the glass and said, "Dude, did a cult leave you love letters last night?"
Eli didn't laugh.
Celeste stepped in beside him, inspecting the mark. "That's not graffiti. That's... a rune."
Liam was quiet. Too quiet. Then he said, "It's a summon."
Eli froze. "What?"
"Not for you," Liam said. "From you."
Far, far away, in the dark halls of the Infernal Realm, Zyren opened his eyes.
He smiled.
"He's waking up."
And in the Dravenhart library, Khyro crushed a crystal goblet in his hand.
Blood — not his — dripped to the floor.
"He's being claimed," he growled.
Back in Eli's dorm, the Fourfold huddled together, uncertain and afraid. They didn't know the full truth — not yet. But they knew this:
Something had begun.
And none of them were going to get out of it untouched.