Nyxborn-The Forgotten Etherium

Vael staggered.

A sharp, choked breath.

The bolt had struck deep, just below his shoulder. Not a killing shot—a warning.

Renar's mind raced.

A second attacker. Hidden. Waiting. Watching.

And then—moving.

A blur in the shadows. A figure in a cloak, stepping forward from the ruins.

Not just any hunter.

A reclaimer.

Renar knew immediately.

The way they moved—silent, precise, methodical.

The way they aimed for Vael, not him.

They weren't here to kill Renar.

They were here to silence Vael.

"This isn't your fight."

The voice was smooth. Cold.

Renar turned to face them. The moonlight caught the silver insignia on their cloak—an unmarked sigil, carved into the shape of an eye.

The Order of Erasure.

The ones who ensured the forgotten stayed forgotten.

Renar's grip tightened around his sword.

"You should not exist," the reclaimer said, voice devoid of emotion. The same words Vael had spoken.

But this time—Renar saw it for what it was.

Not belief.

Programming.

An order drilled into them, so deep it became truth.

Renar took a slow breath. Calculated. Controlled.

"Then why am I still here?"

A pause.

Then—a shift.

Renar barely saw the second bolt before it fired.

Aimed at Vael's throat.

No hesitation. No mercy.

Renar moved.

Steel clashed against steel.

The bolt shattered midair.

The reclaimer finally looked at him.

A moment of silence.

Then, a whisper.

"Interesting."

The air shifted.

And then—they vanished.

Not with a step. Not with a movement.

They were simply gone.

Renar exhaled, his grip steady despite the racing of his pulse.

Vael collapsed to one knee.

Blood dripped from the wound in his shoulder.

His breathing was sharp, labored—but alive.

Renar knelt beside him. Careful. Cautious.

Vael didn't fight him.

But when he looked up, there was something in his eyes that hadn't been there before.

Recognition.

A flicker.

A question without words.

"They will come for me again." Vael's voice was hoarse.

Not fear. Not warning.

A realization.

Renar nodded. Because he understood.

Vael had been a hunter. A tool. A man who had forgotten.

But now—he had started to remember.

And that made him a target.

Just like Renar.

"Then we run," Renar said.

Vael gave a weak, almost bitter laugh.

"And after that?"

Renar's gaze hardened.

"We find out why they erased us in the first place."