Far from the center of Horozon, buried beneath the barren mountains like a dark tomb, lay Haxar Prison silent, dormant. It consisted of eight interconnected sections, each a domain of a different curse, a different punishment.
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But that morning... the stone walls began to breathe.
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The first tremor rose from the deepest level. In the section of the Sealed, a creature with iron-forged runes down its spine suddenly opened its eyes. Not with sight but with bone.
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In the Arslar ward, a prisoner added a new scratch to the marks etched into the wall. "Have they arrived?" he muttered.
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In the Seers' section, a blind woman who had long sat in endless silence suddenly raised her head. She heard the pulse of Xhu not through veins, but through the stone. Her lips parted:
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"The shriek of corpses, like a lullaby."
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The guards weren’t surprised by the noise rippling through the prison. Some struck the walls, others checked the seals.
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Head Warden Marcho stood alone in the high watchtower. He pressed his fingers to an ancient seal carved into the wall. His eyes were shut. Then he inhaled sharply a deep, hoarse, stunned breath.
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"This... this is not an army."
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He didn’t hear what was happening outside. But he felt the echo as if the world were folding inward.
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Rouma still lay unmoving beneath the seals. But his eyes were open.
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For he recognized Pegwalsge’s Xhu.
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And now, he sensed another… a different flicker… icy, but constant… nearly immortal.
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The seals trembled faintly.
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The spark burning within Rouma flared for a moment. His repressed Xhu flowed not outward, but inward. So deeply that others in their cells felt it too.
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Prisoners began to scream.
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But not from fear.
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From memory.
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And what they remembered came with pain. Each of them realized that war was real, that Xhu had been called again, and above all, that Haxar was not just a prison it was a grave of the forgotten.
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Marcho turned from the wall. The seals flared to life one after another. Some glowed softly, others began to melt the stone.
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"This war will pull Haxar into it," Marcho said. "And I am ready."
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The earth had already called him.
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And Xhu... had now reached an unimaginable scale.
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To the east of Horozon, the first echoes of war had crossed the mountains. When the nearest kingdom, Mellthur, saw the red signal lights tearing across the night sky, it awoke from its sleep with a nightmare.
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One of the watchtowers spotted the burning crimson flare and immediately sent word to the palace. The color, shape, and pulse of the light could mean only one thing:
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"Emergency distress call. The threat has breached the borders."
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The windows of the great hall in the heart of the kingdom were draped in darkness, yet inside, motion stirred. The war bells had not sounded, but the scent of the earth had changed. The wave of Xhu had reached the walls of Mellthur.
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King Aswang sat silently upon his throne, wrapped in white furs. When the scout whispered the news, Aswang only narrowed his eyes. A dark thought veiled his brow.
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"If Horozon has lit the signal... this is no ordinary threat," he said. "Could it be Glatsyan...?"
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His voice was low and cold, as if he didn’t want the gods themselves to hear.
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Aswang slowly rose. The guards and advisors in the room instinctively stepped back. Kings seldom rise. In that moment, silence gave way to tense anticipation.
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"Summon Commander Creasya."
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The steel clad doors opened slowly. The figure who entered was silent as shadow, yet the Xhu that surrounded her created a pressure in the room. Commander Creasya, head of Mellthur’s Northern Garrison, wore dull gray armor cracked and scarred from old wars. His eyes were black, holding within them a threat as still as frozen water.
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Aswang gave him a nod. Without explanation, he issued his command:
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"Horozon has lit the signal. A battle is raging there. But this is no ordinary enemy. The vibration of Xhu has reached even here. I doubt you cannot feel it. This level of Xhu... perhaps one or more of the Glatsyan. Handle this swiftly."
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Creasya bowed his head. "I feel it, Your Majesty. This is not an invasion. This is the resurfacing of something long forgotten."
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"Take your elite forces," said Aswang. "This is not merely a rescue mission. This is a witnessing. Be careful."
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"How many soldiers do you command me to bring?"
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"Bring those whose endurance you trust. The outcome will be decided not by numbers, but by strength of spirit."
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Creasya knelt. "At your command, Your Majesty."
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Aswang walked to the window. The sky was still crimson. Something burned on the horizon.
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"This Xhu... how can it be? I know this Xhu but it should be impossible..." the king whispered, unable to hide his shock.
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And Creasya, wasting no time, had already set off.
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