Kael stayed still.
The Keeper's eyes—hollow suns behind a veil—locked with his.
"You are late," it repeated. "The chains are breaking. The others stir. The Bound One wakes."
Kael narrowed his eyes. "Speak plainly. I'm not in the mood for riddles."
The Keeper raised one finger. "You bear the Shadowmark. You are the key. The final chain. The last ward holding Neroth beneath this world."
Kael scoffed. "What the hell did I touch back in that tomb?"
The Keeper's voice deepened. "A fragment of the god who devours light. A being the old empires bled themselves to bind. The High Order hunts these fragments. As do darker things."
Kael glanced at the black coffin. "Is that him?"
"No. That is his jailor. The first to take the Mark willingly."
A crack formed down the glass. A hum rose in pitch.
"What happens if it breaks?" Kael asked.
The Keeper stepped back. "Time unravels. Cities fall. Gods die screaming."
Kael reached for his blade. "How do I stop it?"
"Find the Seven Seals before the others do. Before the world becomes ash."
"And if I fail?"
"Then you will watch the sky bleed."
Kael didn't speak. He turned and ran as the coffin groaned behind him.