"You’ve grown." Damian’s voice echoed like thunder.

Liam stood still. Darkness wrapped around him like a second skin. The air was thick, heavy with the smell of centuries of blood. 

"How are you sure who I am?" he asked. 

Chains clinked deep within the dark. "I don't need to see your face to know my own blood." 

Liam lit a torch and saw Damian, shackled in enchanted chains, looking dusty with long hair streaked with silver. 

“Father," Liam breathed. He took a stepforward. As he tried to break the chains, Damian’s voice cut through the chamber. "Stop! You don’t understand what's holding me here." 

"Then explain. I didn’t come this far to leave you in chains or leave without you." 

Damian pulled at the chains. They groaned, alive with runes. His wrists sizzled where the metal touched his skin. "They carved a piece of the moon into these cuffs," he said. "Blessed by witches. Fed with the blood of my enemies." 

"Why?" "Because they feared what I was becoming." 

Liam moved closer. “You don’t look like a monster to me.” 

“That’s because you’re my son. But the rest of the world? They only ever saw the beast.” 

“I’ve seen real monsters,” Liam whispered. “One of them raised me.” 

Damian’s head lifted slightly. “Leon.” 

“No.” Liam’s voice hardened. “Marcus.” 

A low growl rumbled from Damian’s chest. “He’s still alive?” 

“He’s ruling Duskfall like it’s his birthright.” “I should’ve killed him when I had the chance.” “I’ll do it for you,” Liam said. “Is that why you came?” 

Liam stepped into the light. “I came to restore my family; to free you and find my mother.” 

Damian’s jaw tightened. “Leila?” 

“They buried her. In an Enchanted Grave.” Liam said. 

Damian yanked hard on the chains. A crack split through the wall. “They’ll pay.” 

“They already started,” Liam said. “I broke through the city gate. Walked straight into the council chamber.” 

“And survived?” 

“Marcus made sure I knew I was alone.” Damian’s lips curled. “You are not alone anymore.” 

Liam’s hand twitched. “Then tell me how to free you.” 

“You can’t. Not yet. There’s a spell. Ancient.Binding the chains to my bloodline.” 

“You mean me.” 

Damian nodded. 

“I’m ready,” Liam said. “No.” Damian’s voice turned hard. “You’re powerful,but not enough. The claws... they burn silver when your soul is wounded. If you bleed for me now, it could kill you.” 

“I don’t care.” 

“I do.” Damian strained forward. “If you die, the prophecy dies with you.” 

“Prophecy?” 

Damian went quiet. 

Liam’s voice dropped. “You know it.” 

“Leila feared it. Leon tried to stop it. ButMarcus… he used it.” 

“What does it say?” Damian’s glowing eyes stared through him. “The one born with silver claws shall open the gate of beasts. And from the deep, the First Blood shall rise again.” 

Liam’s heart stilled. “That’s not just about me,” he whispered. 

“No. It’s about what your return might unleash.” 

“But I’ve already come back.” 

Damian looked down at the runes, now pulsing faintly under his chains. “Then it’s already begun.”   

Outside, rain lashed the streets of Duskfall. Lightning flashed over the towers. Selene waited beneath a stone arch, soaked through,arms crossed. She muttered under her breath, drawing symbols on her palm. The air behind her shifted. She turned. 

“You’re alive.” 

Liam stepped out of the shadows, blood trailing from his palm. 

“You look like you walked through fire,” she said. 

“I walked through my father.” 

Her eyes narrowed. “Did you free him?” “No.” “Why?” “Because I’d die if I tried now.” 

Selene didn’t flinch. “So what now?” 

“You help me get stronger. You help me find the spell.” 

“You don’t trust witches, remember?” “I don’t trust liars. And Marcus’s witches are liars.” 

She nodded once. “Then we start with the blood book.” 

“What’s that?” “A relic. It holds the original sealing spell used on Damian.” 

“Where is it?” 

Selene glanced up at the sky. “Buried in Sangville.” 

“The lost city?” 

“It’s not lost. Just cursed.” 

Liam stared at her. “You really want to help me?” 

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t enjoy watching you fail,”she said. “But I’ve seen Marcus’s future. It ends badly—for all of us.” 

Liam smirked. “Then let’s move faster.”   

Later, in a forgotten basement beneath an old tavern, just outside the city, Marius knelt before a circle of flame. Marcus stood above him, a goblet of black wine in hand. 

“You let him live.” Marius gritted his teeth.

“He vanished before I could do anything.” 

“He’s your brother.” 

“He’s a threat,” Marius said. 

“Then prove it.” 

“How?” 

Marcus poured the wine into the flames. They flared blue. 

“Liam is looking for the spell book. You’ll find it first. You’ll destroy it.” 

“What if he finds Damian?” 

Marcus’s eyes darkened. “Then this world will burn.” 

“I can stop him.” 

Marcus grabbed Marius’s chin, forcing him to meet his gaze. “No. You fear him.” 

Marius shook his head. “I’ll prove you wrong.” 

“You better,” Marcus hissed. “Because if you fail me again, you won’t fear Liam. You’ll fear me.”

 The flames roared.   

Back in Duskfall, Liam stood on the rooftop of a cathedral. He stared across the city. At the towers. At the shadows moving below. “This city doesn’t know it yet,” he whispered, “but its true king has returned.” He flexed his fingers. The claws snapped out. Silver. Burning bright in the night. 

Selene stepped up beside him. “You sure you’re ready for war?” “No,” Liam said. “But I’m not backing down.” 

“Then we find Sangville.” 

Liam turned to her. “And if it’s truly cursed?” 

She smiled faintly. “Then let’s wake the dead.”