The Day the Sky Shattered

The world remembered that day as The Fracture.

Twenty years ago, the skies cracked open, and rifts tore through the heavens. Through them came creatures that defied reason—beasts of flame, titans of stone, serpents with wings that blotted out the sun. Entire cities crumbled before humanity could even comprehend the invasion.

But humanity was not forsaken.

Some were chosen. Ordinary men and women awakened extraordinary abilities—strength to crush steel, speed faster than bullets, magic that bent the elements to their will. They became known as Wardens, the defenders of mankind, stepping into the rifts to slay the horrors within and seal the Gates before the monsters spilled across the world.

The world learned to breathe again.

Yet even among the Wardens, there was a hierarchy. At the top stood the Sovereigns, beings so powerful they could annihilate armies alone. At the bottom… were the Forgotten. Weak, powerless, ridiculed—barely able to survive in the dungeons.

And no one was more Forgotten than Kael Ardyn.

Kael stood at the edge of a glowing rift, clutching his rusted short sword so tightly his knuckles whitened. Around him, the raid party laughed, their gleaming armor and enchanted weapons a cruel reminder of how little he belonged here.

“Don’t fall behind, Kael,” one sneered. “Or the goblins will eat you before we do.”

Another chuckled. “Don’t bother. He’ll probably trip and die before then.”

Kael said nothing. He was used to it.

At twenty-one, he was still classified as an F-Rank Warden—the lowest possible tier. His stats were pitiful, his mana nearly nonexistent. He had failed more training exams than anyone else in the guild. The only reason he still fought was because of his sister, Lyra, lying in a hospital bed, her body wasting away from a curse no healer could touch.

Hunting paid for her treatment. That was all that mattered.

The Gate before them pulsed like a living wound, its surface rippling with violet light. The raid leader, a smug B-rank fire mage, raised his staff.

“Standard formation. Clear it quick, take the loot, and go home.”

The others cheered. Kael forced his trembling legs to move, stepping into the rift.

Darkness swallowed him.

The dungeon was colder than ice, its cavern walls etched with symbols that flickered faintly. As the party pushed deeper, monsters rushed from the shadows—fang-mawed goblins and wolf-beasts with molten eyes. Kael fought clumsily, his dull blade bouncing off thick hides. Every strike reminded him how weak he was.

Then they found it.

A second chamber. Hidden. Massive doors sealed shut with glowing chains.

The leader’s eyes gleamed with greed. “Jackpot.”

The others hesitated. The chains pulsed with ominous energy, and the runes felt older than time itself. But greed won, as it always did. They broke the seal.

The doors groaned open.

Inside was no treasure. Only silence. And in the silence… a throne of black stone. Upon it sat a colossal figure, armored in shadows, eyes burning like dying stars.

The Shadow Monarch.

Its gaze fell upon them. Most of the raid collapsed instantly, blood pouring from their eyes and ears. Screams filled the chamber. Kael staggered, his vision blurring—yet he did not fall.

The Monarch’s voice rumbled, ancient and cruel.

“At last… a vessel worthy of my chains.”

Darkness surged toward him, sinking into his veins like fire and frost combined. Kael’s body convulsed, his scream echoing through the cavern as black marks carved themselves into his skin.

When he opened his eyes again, the raid was gone—burned to ash. Only Kael remained, kneeling before the empty throne.

A single message burned in the air before him, glowing crimson:

[System Initiated]

You have inherited the Shadowbound Legacy.

Level: 1

Kael’s breath shook, his heart hammering.

For the first time in his life… he was no longer weak.

The Forgotten Warden

The Gate pulsed like a wound in the world.

Kael Ardyn tightened his grip on the rusted sword, its chipped edge catching what little light came from the violet rift before him. The other Wardens stood in formation, laughing, boasting, their polished armor gleaming with enchantments. Next to them, Kael looked like a beggar who had stumbled into a battlefield.

“Don’t slow us down, Ardyn,” one sneered, tightening the strap on his gauntlet.

“He’s just here to split the rewards,” another muttered. “Useless trash.”

Kael didn’t respond. He had heard it all before. Words sharper than any blade, reminders that he was the weakest, the bottom of the bottom: an F-rank Warden. The Forgotten.

His heart beat faster—not from anger, but from the thought of his sister. Lyra. She was lying in a hospital bed somewhere in the city, cursed by a Gate-born plague no healer could cure. Each day her strength faded. Each day, the bills grew heavier.

This was why he fought. Not for glory, not for power. Just to keep her alive a little longer.

“Move out!” the raid leader barked. A tall man in crimson robes raised his staff, fire already swirling lazily at its tip. A B-rank mage. Smug, confident, untouchable.

The Gate rippled, and one by one, the party stepped inside.

Kael was last. Always last.

---

The dungeon air was heavy, damp, as though the cavern itself was breathing. Strange symbols glowed faintly on the stone walls, casting eerie reflections that danced across the hunters’ faces.

The first wave came fast—fang-mawed goblins with jagged claws, their shrieks echoing off the cavern. The stronger Wardens surged forward, blades flashing, spells roaring.

Kael hung back, sword trembling in his hands. He lunged clumsily at a goblin, barely grazing its arm before another Warden’s spear skewered it clean through.

“Pathetic,” someone hissed, pushing past him.

Kael exhaled shakily. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t surprised. This was his place—the one always saved, never saving.

For an hour they fought, the dungeon slowly thinning of monsters. The raid members relaxed, laughter echoing through the cavern. Someone even lit a cigar.

That’s when they saw it.

At the far end of the chamber loomed a set of stone doors, massive and ancient. Chains of black light wrapped across them, pulsing faintly with energy. The walls around it were covered in runes older than any Warden could recognize.

A hush fell over the group.

“That’s… not part of an F-rank Gate,” one whispered.

The raid leader’s eyes gleamed with greed. “Hidden chamber,” he said. “We break it open. Could be treasure, relics. More than any of you have ever dreamed of.”

Several Wardens hesitated. The chains radiated danger. The air itself seemed to resist their approach.

Kael felt it strongest of all. A weight pressing against his chest, whispering to him in a voice without words. Do not open this door.

He opened his mouth to speak, but no one was listening. The fire mage raised his staff, flames burning away the chains.

The doors groaned. Then slowly, they opened.

---

The chamber beyond was vast, hollow, its ceiling lost in shadow. At its center, upon a throne of black stone, sat a colossal figure. Armored in darkness, eyes burning like dying stars, it watched them in silence.

Every Warden froze.

Then it spoke.

A voice older than the world itself, rumbling through their bones.

> “Mortals… after so long, you dare disturb me?”

The room convulsed with pressure. Several Wardens collapsed instantly, blood streaming from their eyes and ears. The others screamed, scrambling back.

Kael staggered, vision blurring—but he did not fall. His knees buckled, but something inside him held. Something the being noticed.

Its gaze fixed on him.

> “At last,” the figure said. “A vessel worthy of my chains.”

Darkness exploded from the throne, tendrils of shadow wrapping around Kael’s body. He screamed as they burrowed into his flesh, searing his veins with fire and frost. Runes carved themselves along his skin, glowing crimson before fading into black.

The others tried to run, but the shadows devoured them—burning them to ash in an instant. Their cries ended in silence.

Kael fell to his knees, gasping, his heart hammering wildly. The throne was empty now. The Monarch was gone. But in his mind, a voice lingered.

> You are mine now, Shadowbound.

Before him, words burned into the air.

[System Initiated]

Welcome, Kael Ardyn.

Level: 1

Kael’s hands trembled. His rusted sword clattered to the floor. For the first time in his life… he felt power coursing through him.

And it terrified him.

The First Command

Kael’s breath came ragged, echoing in the vast chamber. His rusted sword lay forgotten at his side, its dull blade useless against the storm raging inside him.

The air still stank of ash. The other Wardens—their laughter, their arrogance—were gone, erased in a heartbeat. Nothing remained but black dust, scattered like broken promises.

And him.

Only him.

The glowing words before his eyes pulsed like a heartbeat:

[System Initiated]

User: Kael Ardyn

Class: Shadowbound (Unique)

Level: 1

Kael reached out instinctively. His hand passed through the letters as though they were smoke, yet the information burned into his mind.

“…What… is this?” His voice cracked.

No answer. Only more text flared into existence:

[Quests Available]

Survive the Awakening (Mandatory)

Reward: Skill – Shadow Summon

His chest tightened. A sound—low, guttural—echoed in the darkness. Kael turned.

From the far side of the throne, something stirred.

It was a goblin… or what had once been one. Its body was half-rotted, its eyes empty sockets, yet it moved with jerking hunger. A dungeon’s remnant, left to wander in eternal hunger.

Kael scrambled for his sword. His fingers closed around the worn hilt just as the creature lunged.

Steel clashed with claw. Sparks flew. Kael staggered, the goblin pressing its weight against him. His arms shook, his scarred muscles screaming. For a moment, he thought nothing had changed. He was still weak. Still helpless.

But then—something surged.

A shadow at his feet moved. Stretched. Rose like smoke.

Instinct screamed inside him. Command it.

Kael gritted his teeth and shouted, “Obey me!”

The shadow lashed forward, snaring the goblin’s legs. The creature shrieked, clawing at the floor, but the darkness pulled it down. With a cry, Kael drove his sword into its throat.

The goblin collapsed, twitching once before going still.

Silence. His chest heaved. The runes along his arm pulsed faintly, warm against his skin. Then more words appeared:

[Quest Completed]

Reward Granted: Skill – Shadow Summon

Kael’s eyes widened as the goblin’s body dissolved into black mist. That mist flowed into his shadow, pooling, shaping.

When the darkness cleared, the goblin stood again. But its skin was smoke, its eyes blank voids. It waited silently, hunched at Kael’s side.

“…You’re mine?” Kael whispered.

The shadow-goblin bowed its head, awaiting command.

Kael staggered back, fear and awe twisting inside him. He had no mana, no strength… yet he had done this. He had created something.

A bitter laugh escaped his lips. “The weakest Warden in the world… with a monster for a shadow.”

The words on the screen flickered once more:

[Skill Unlocked: Shadow Summon (Lv.1)]

You may bind shadows of the slain to your service. Limit: 1.

Kael clenched his trembling hands. For years he had fought, bled, been mocked, barely surviving. But now—he had power. Real power.

Still… he knew better than to celebrate. Power never came without cost.

A distant rumble shook the chamber. Dust rained down from the ceiling, cracks forming along the stone walls. The Gate was collapsing.

Kael forced himself to stand. He had to move. If he stayed, he’d be buried alive.

“Follow,” he commanded, and the shadow-goblin moved silently behind him.

He staggered back the way they had come, through the broken halls and empty corridors. The dungeon seemed different now—quieter, watching him with unseen eyes. The runes on the walls glowed faintly as though recognizing him.

Finally, he saw it—the violet shimmer of the Gate’s exit. Relief surged through him.

But as he stepped closer, more words seared into the air:

[Warning: You are now bound to the Shadow Monarch’s Legacy.]

Enemies will sense your presence. You are marked.]

Kael froze. His shadow stretched unnaturally long, curling like a beast waking from slumber.

The message burned brighter:

[Survive. Or be devoured.]

Kael stared into the light of the Gate, his reflection warped, his eyes glowing faintly gray. His fate had been sealed in this cursed chamber.

He was no longer just an F-rank Warden.

He was Shadowbound.

And the world would never forgive him for it.