The Hollowlands howled under a bruised purple sky.
Caelum stood at the edge of a ravine, staring down into the writhing mist below.
The air vibrated with unseen whispers. Some begged for help. Others promised death.
None could be trusted.
Behind him, Selvara finished etching a wide, spiraling rune into the cracked stone with a dagger made of bone. The symbols pulsed with a sickly blue light, resonating with the fractured strands of the broken Soul-Web.
"It begins," she said without turning.
Caelum tore his gaze from the chasm and approached.
"The Bloodhunt," she explained, her voice cold and steady, "is Solaris' greatest shame, hidden from the world. When one of their own becomes... inconvenient, they enact it."
He frowned.
"You mean exile?"
Selvara laughed, a sound like brittle leaves snapping underfoot.
"No, boy. Exile is mercy. Bloodhunt is obliteration."
She finished the final symbol and drove the bone dagger into the center.
A pulse of energy rippled outward — and for a fleeting second, Caelum saw it:
Threads of intent stretching across leagues, stitched into the very sky.
Dozens of them.
Hunters were coming.
---
Flashback — Solaris, Magisterium Throne Room
The Grand Inquisitor, a towering figure clad in silver armor over crimson robes, stood at the heart of the council.
He spoke without preamble.
"Caelum Vey. Former Acolyte of House Dareth. Confirmed Eidolon-Touched. Confirmed Anathema-bloom risk."
The gathered Magisters murmured.
One, masked in emerald green, asked, "Is he alone?"
The Inquisitor nodded.
"For now. But an Anathema's growth is exponential. If left unchecked, he could collapse entire sectors of the Soul-Web."
Murmurs turned to fearful hisses.
"We cannot allow another Shardfall."
The Inquisitor raised a heavy hand, and the light dimmed.
"I propose we enact Bloodhunt."
A shudder ran through the chamber.
Bloodhunt was not a mission.
It was an execution writ across reality itself.
An army of elite Soulweavers — the Magisterium's deadliest blades — sanctioned to kill without limit, destroy without evidence, reshape the truth as they saw fit.
A black decree from which no target had ever survived.
The Inquisitor's voice dropped.
"We will strike at the Hollowlands," he said. "We will burn Caelum Vey's soul from existence."
All voted in favor.
The decree was sealed.
The Bloodhunt began.
---
Present — Hollowlands
Selvara rose from her kneeling position, facing Caelum with grim finality.
"They will come for you," she said. "Not just warriors. Architects. Breakers. Anathema-Binders."
"And you?" he asked, breathing hard.
She smiled — a cruel, proud smile.
"I trained you for this, Caelum. You will not run. You will not hide."
"You will kill them."
A surge of something hot and bitter rose in Caelum's chest.
Anger.
Resolve.
The promise of vengeance, cold and clean.
For once, the Anathema inside him was silent.
It watched, expectant.
Waiting.
---
They moved quickly.
Selvara armed Caelum with everything she could spare: soulwoven armor stitched from the veins of ancient beasts; a dagger forged from broken Eidolon shards; bands of blacksteel to anchor his unstable magic.
But power was not enough.
They needed a plan.
---
The Hunters
The first wave was already near.
Five figures, cloaked in white and silver, descending through the fractured sky like falling stars.
Caelum could feel their presence, heavy and sharp like a blade at his throat.
Their Soul-Web threads were intact, unbroken, beautiful — a mockery of the ruin within himself.
Selvara drew her blade — a long, curved weapon etched with hundreds of old names.
"These are only the beginning," she said.
Caelum nodded.
No fear.
Only purpose.
The mist around them shifted, reacting to the growing pressure.
He opened his arms slightly — calling the fractured Web to him, weaving threads into jagged shapes — raw spears of hatred.
The first Hunter touched down in a blur of silver.
A woman, her eyes covered by a blindfold of runic silk, carrying a stave of living crystal. Her very presence stung Caelum's skin.
"Surrender," she said, voice empty. "And we will end you swiftly."
Caelum laughed — bitter and hollow.
"I refuse."
---
Battle ignited.
The Hunter moved with impossible grace, striking with tendrils of compressed soul-energy.
Caelum countered with brute force — snapping the mist into spiked walls, shattering her attacks, pressing forward like a storm given flesh.
Selvara danced into the fray beside him — a specter of precise death.
For a time, they held the line.
But more Hunters fell from the sky.
Three.
Then five.
Then ten.
Each one a master of destruction. Each one moving as one, a perfect web of death.
Selvara was forced back, blade flashing faster than sight.
Caelum roared, tearing open his inner soul-chains, releasing a portion of the Anathema sleeping within.
Corruption bled from his pores — mist turning black, air crackling.
The first Hunter hesitated — the first mistake.
Caelum struck.
His corrupted spear of Soul-Web tore through her defenses like wet paper, slamming her body into a crumbling monolith with bone-snapping force.
She didn't rise.
One down.
Only... dozens more to go.
---
Internal Monologue
Caelum staggered, blood dripping from a dozen shallow cuts.
This... this was the true face of power. Not the sterile, polished halls of Solaris. Not the cold, judging smiles of Magisters.
This was teeth and blood and fury. Survival against a world that only understood obedience or death.
He had made his choice.
He would burn the world before he bowed again.
---
The Hollowlands screamed with the echoes of battle.
And Caelum Vey — exiled, broken, forgotten — began to carve his legend into the bones of the earth.