The Forbidden Path to Glaur Keep
No map charted the path to Glaur Keep. It existed outside the geometry of the world, veiled by storms that burned crimson and a silence that devoured sound. Only those who were called by it could find it—and those it called never returned.
Dr. Adrian Thorne stood before the ancient gates, his breath shallow, half from exhaustion, half from the oppressive aura clinging to the very air. Behind him, five other members of his expedition watched the sky darken. They were scientists, scholars, and thrill-seekers—not believers. Not yet.
The journey had taken months. The Codex of the Rift, recovered from the ruins of the Monastery of Ythar, had led them here. Written in blood and bound in stitched flesh, it spoke of a tyrant sealed beneath the world: Kael'Zar, the Lord of the Red Abyss. A godless warlord of an age before language, whose soul had been chained in armor wrought from star-metal and bone, cast into a pit that screamed.
"We do this for knowledge," Thorne had said. "For truth."What he did not say was that he had been dreaming of Kael'Zar since he first touched the Codex.
Into the Heart of Darkness
They passed through the gates. The keep was a cathedral to extinction: vast halls of petrified corpses, walls covered in murals of wars that had no victor, and doors made of melted blades. The deeper they went, the colder the air grew, though fire still flickered in unseen places. Time bent. Day and night became meaningless.
In the keep’s heart, they found the Chamber of Binding.
A black throne stood atop a dais, ringed in obsidian pillars. At its base lay Kael'Zar. Even slumped in slumber, he was titanic. His armor pulsed faintly, like a dying heart. His horned helm bore runes that shifted when watched. The air stank of old blood and burnt iron.
Thorne approached, trembling.
"He waits," he whispered. "Just as the Codex said."Part 3: The Ritual of Awakening
The ritual was written on the final page, hidden beneath dried sinew. It required only a drop of human blood, a single spoken name, and silence.
No chants. No theatrics.
Thorne sliced his palm. The blood sizzled as it hit the dais.
He spoke the name: "Kael'Zar."
The silence that followed was absolute. Sound itself retreated, unwilling to witness what came next.
A groan echoed—not of metal, but of the world itself. The runes on the armor ignited, blazing red. One by one, the expedition members turned to run, but the doors were gone. The keep had sealed itself.
Part 4: He Opens His Eyes
Kael'Zar stirred.
His helm lifted. Beneath it, a mouth of jagged bone split open. Inside was no flesh, only coals. His breath was fire. His eyes—if they could be called that—were pits of hellish light.
Kael'Zar opened his eyes.
And the world would never be the same.
