Far across the city, deep within the fortified sublevels of Division-7's surveillance wing, the room buzzed with silent urgency.
Agent Rena stood before a massive holo-wall, her arms folded, eyes sharp beneath the fluorescent white light. Onscreen, a grainy surveillance feed streamed from an embedded micro-cam, Dævd, inside the cluttered workshop, examining the newly engineered suit. She zoomed in slightly as he ran his hand across the armor's surface, watching his expression, the way his jaw tightened. Focused. Wounded. Dangerous.
"Well… he's adjusting faster than I expected," she murmured.
A young technician turned from his console. "Agent Rena, you wanted updates on Lagos residuals?"
Rena didn't take her eyes off the screen. "Talk."
"We're still getting anomalous Aetherian readings, not just from the site of the skirmish, but northeast of the blast radius. Sporadic. Moving. Almost like…"
"Something's lurking," Rena finished for him, voice cold. "Another branded?"
"Yes, ma'am. But this one's… different. It's matching the Aetherian anomaly class from Lagos, but not exactly the same as the subject."
She narrowed her eyes. "Show me."
The wall of monitors shifted, overlaying a three-dimensional map. An area southeast of the Lagos crater glowed faintly red, the energy signatures erratic and violent. Pulse patterns flickered like fire.
Rena stepped closer. "That's not Dævd…"
"No, ma'am. It's something else. Multiple signatures. Four confirmed. One of them… off the charts."
As if on cue, one of the heat signatures on the map flared brightly, just for a moment, before vanishing.
Rena's jaw clenched. "It's masking itself. Deliberately."
She studied the readouts for a long moment, then turned to her team.
"Enhance seismic logs in that region. Cross-check thermal anomalies, magnetic fluctuations, everything."
The technician hesitated. "You think it's another Aetherian?"
"I think," Rena said slowly, "that we just found whoever, or whatever's going to bring the next apocalypse to Lagos. And if I'm right, it's an army."
She tapped the signature and labeled it manually: Unclassified Hostile - Codename: Ember Ghost.
Another technician frowned. "Should we notify the local enforcement?"
Rena shook her head. "No. They won't survive it. Just keep tracking. If it's lurking, it's watching for something. Or someone. My guess… Dævd."
The main screen blinked back to Dævd, still standing beneath the skylight, unaware that far below the surface of the city, a monstrous force was crawling its way back into play.
He's not just adapting, she thought. He's remembering who he is.
She tapped a command into the interface, tagging Dævd's position. "Double the satellites around his area. Keep the scans low-profile. I want all anomaly patterns flagged immediately, if something else is watching, we need to see it before it sees him."
"Understood, ma'am."
She turned back to the screen one last time.
"Let's see what else crawls out of the dark."
Outskirts of Lagos — Underground Ruins.
The chamber pulsed with a dim, hellish glow.
Ash coated the cracked stone walls like skin. The air was thick, dry, choked with the stench of burnt soil and molten metal. Something mysterious had forced its way into the bones of the Earth, and it was still breathing.
Irohk crouched near the center of the ruin, one ember-orange eye glowing in the dark, the other hidden beneath the charred strands of dreadlocks that shifted like living flame. Hovering over his head is flame aura like crown. Beneath his feet, the earth was blackened, tattooed by his very presence. The branded sigil on his back seethed with heat.
Around him knelt his minions, all 150 of them, forged not from flesh but from scorched remnants of the branded curse. Each one bore a different malformed shape, their bodies armored in obsidian-colored plating fused with flame-touched bone. Eyes like dying stars glowed from within their helms and sockets.
They did not speak. They did not breathe.
They waited.
A lieutenant — sleeker, leaner than the others, stepped forward and dropped to one knee.
"Orders, my Lord Ember?"
Irohk didn't look at him at first. He simply dragged his palm across the air, sparks following his fingers. A small glyph flared Kael's mark, flickering red.
"The boy lives," Irohk said, voice cracked and low. "I can feel his presence. His flame's grown… but it still trembles."
He stood, slowly, ash flaking from his shoulders.
"They conquered Rukorr, they'll think that was it. That he was the tip of the spear."
He raised his arms wide. Flames licked his skin like a crown. The chamber responded with heat, reverent heat.
"But I am the breath before the fire. The Ember King!"
He turned to his horde.
"Burn the fields around him. Tear through the crust of this Earth. Let the humans run and let him feel it!"
The horde pounded their fists to the ground in unison. The tremor reached the surface in a low rumble.
One of the lesser-branded creatures hissed, dragging claws against the stone, the word forming almost like a prayer:
"Prince…"
Irohk's grin spread.
"Yes," he whispered. "Let him prepare. Let him dress up and gather allies. Let him believe he has time. And then…"
He ignited fully, skin erupting in a column of blazing inferno.
"Infernal Verdict will fall again."
Division-7 Command Center — Temporary HQ.
The hum of monitors filled the darkened room. Holographic screens floated above sleek consoles, projecting live satellite data, seismic graphs, and fluctuating energy signatures. The room was cold, clinical, but every operative inside had begun to sweat.
Agent Rena stood in the center of it all, arms folded, eyes narrowed at the anomaly readings displayed before her.
"Run it again," she said sharply.
An analyst stammered, "W-we already did, ma'am. Twice. It's not an error."
The data spiked violently, a swirling vortex of energy concentration, centered just miles outside Lagos.
Rena's jaw tightened.
The readings didn't make sense. It wasn't just Aetherian. It was evolving, growing hotter, more unstable by the minute.
Another monitor blinked red.
"Seismic activity detected," a second voice announced. "Magnitude 4.3 — shallow tremors. Epicenter matches energy surge location."
The room darkened slightly as auxiliary power rerouted to shields and uplinks. Then a third voice, trembling now:
"Ma'am… look outside."
Rena turned. The side panel of the command center's wall, a one-way reinforced window, she looked out across the skyline.
What she saw made her breath hitch.
The once-blue sky had turned sickly, a roiling crimson-grey now swept across the horizon, thick and unnatural. It wasn't just storm clouds. It looked like the sky itself was burning from the inside out.
The sun had dimmed, smothered by layers of smoke that hadn't come from any fire they'd started. Birds had stopped flying. Even the wind felt… wrong.
On the streets below, civilians had begun to stop. Cars halted. People pointed upward. Phones rose to film the impossible.
Whispers spread like sparks:
"Is this the end?"
"What's going on?"
"Is this war?"
Rena muttered under her breath. "They're not hiding anymore."
Another alert blared, a direct report from one of their orbital drones.
"Unidentified hostile heat signatures confirmed underground, count… 150. Located beneath a scorched zone north of Lagos. One reading at the center is exponentially stronger than the rest."
She turned toward the command console, her voice low but firm.
"I want eyes on Dævd. Now."
A nearby tech blinked. "Already done, ma'am. Hidden camera relay from Lagos uplink is still transmitting. He's with the engineer, Kade. Doesn't seem aware of what's coming."
Rena's eyes narrowed.
"Then let's keep it that way for now."
But deep inside, she knew, this wasn't just an anomaly anymore.
It was an invasion.
And whatever was rising from beneath the earth…
…it wasn't going to stop at Dævd.
KADE'S WORKSHOP
The air was too still.
Dævd stood beneath the wide skylight, his new Aetherian suit reflecting streaks of sun that had now dulled beneath a strange reddish haze. His silver-white locs shifted slightly, though there was no wind. His gaze was locked skyward, far, far beyond the clouds.
Kade glanced over from his console.
"You good?" he asked, wiping grease from his fingers.
Dævd didn't move.
Then,
"…It's starting."
Kade paused, squinting. "What?"
Immediately, Kade walked towards the monitor, reached out, and pressed the screen.
Live footage flashed to life, news broadcasts, frantic and raw.
Civilians frozen in streets. Phones in the air. Broad daylight turned to dusk. A crimson-hued sky churned above Lagos. Panic was spreading. A journalist's voice cracked on live feed:
"we don't know what's happening yet, but people are pointing at the sky and asking if this is the end of the world."
Kade muttered, "You're not wrong Kid."
He turned to look at Dævd But Dævd was already gone. And so was the suit. Only faint crackles of residual energy remained in the air where he had stood. Kade blinked, then exhaled sharply, a mix of pride and worry flashing across his face.
"…Boy's living up to his damn destiny."
He turned, reached under the bench, and pulled out his modified plasma rifle, the barrel etched with his own upgrades.
He slung it over his shoulder, checked the charge, and muttered to himself:
"What the hell crawled out of the fire this time?"
Downtown Lagos — 2:32 PM
The streets had turned quiet, unnaturally so.
The sky, once blue and unmarred, now simmered with a dark reddish hue. Clouds twisted in unnatural shapes, glowing faintly from within, like embers trapped in smoke. Shadows stretched where they shouldn't, and the air smelled of charred dust and burning metal.
Then,
CRACK.
The pavement split. Not gently. Not slowly. It exploded, scattering chunks of concrete into the air. Civilians screamed as the ground fractured in a burning ripple.
From the molten crack, they rose.
First came the lieutenant.
Tall. Armored in what looked like smoldering obsidian and cracked flame-rock. His face was partly covered by a scorched skeletal mask, only his molten eyes visible beneath. A faint, low growl rumbled from his chest as he stepped onto the surface.
Behind him, fifty savage, flame-born minions poured out like a firestorm. Each one a twisted amalgamation of heat and violence, no faces, no voices, just burning rage molded into monstrous humanoid forms. Their movements were erratic, limbs jagged, bodies leaking ember-light from deep within.
The lieutenant lifted his hand, fingers clawed, and gave a low command:
"Burn it all."
And so they did.
They surged forward, setting buildings ablaze with every step, overturning vehicles, striking down anything that moved. Fire bloomed unnaturally, feeding on glass and stone. Screams filled the air again, but now they were buried beneath the roar of flame and chaos.
From across the city, seismic alarms triggered. Division-7's satellite feeds scrambled to life.
Division-7 HQ — Situation Room
Agent Rena leaned forward, her brows tightening.
"Where the hell did they come from?"
One of the analysts called out, panic in his voice.
"Ma'am, multiple heat signatures just emerged downtown. Class X anomalies. At least fifty… no, fifty-one. One's bigger."
She narrowed her eyes. "Flame-based. Same energy signature as the Branded we logged earlier."
She turned to the holo-monitor showing the wreckage in real-time.
"There's something else here. Something older… it's not just the Branded. This lieutenant… he's a herald."
A silence fell over the control room. Rena straightened, her voice cold:
"Deploy interceptor drones. Activate suppression units. And give me a direct feed on the Dævd."
Somewhere Above the City.
High above it all, Dævd stood suspended in midair, the wind howling around him.
His silver-white locs whipped behind him. The Aetherian suit glowed faintly at the edges, and Lucent Grave pulsed with quiet anticipation at his back.
Below him, he saw the rising inferno.
Fifty blazing soldiers.
One Branded lieutenant.
And countless innocent lives trapped beneath the chaos.
He narrowed his eyes.
"So this is the welcome party."