The underground city did not appear on any map.

  Kael felt that immediately.

  They descended through a rusted freight elevator hidden beneath a colpsed transit station, the doors screeching as if protesting their destination. The air grew colder with every meter, thick with incense smoke and recycled oxygen. When the doors finally opened, Kael expected darkness.

  Instead, he found light.

  Hundreds of oil mps and jury-rigged neon strips illuminated a vast cavern carved beneath Helios. Homes were built into the rock walls like scars that had learned to breathe. People moved quietly, heads bowed, hands marked with glowing sigils painted in ash and phosphor.

  Above everything—etched into stone, steel, and fabric—was the same symbol:

  The Halo.

  “They call this pce The Hollow, ” Lyra said quietly. “They believe the Halo is a god that chose to break the world.”

  Kael swallowed. His ribs still burned from their escape. His powers flickered beneath his skin like a fever that refused to break.

  “And you let them believe that?”

  Lyra didn’t answer.

  They were brought before Elder Maerin, a woman whose age seemed carved into her bones. She touched Kael’s chest with trembling fingers, eyes wide with awe.

  “The Chosen bleeds,” Maerin whispered. “The god’s fire lives in him.”

  Kael recoiled. “I’m not—”

  Lyra stepped between them. “He’s human.”

  That word carried weight down here. Dangerous weight.

  THE TRUTH BETWEEN THEM

  Later, they sat alone in a narrow chamber lit by flickering blue light. Kael stared at his hands, watching faint energy veins pulse beneath his skin.

  “You knew about this pce,” he said. “You knew about me.”

  Lyra leaned against the stone wall, exhaustion finally breaking through her resolve.

  “I didn’t know where you were,” she said. “Only that I had to find you.”

  Kael looked up. “Why?”

  She hesitated. Then spoke.

  “My father led the southern rebels. The ones who fought the Ascendant before Helios fell.”

  Kael’s breath caught. He’d heard whispers—executions, erased cells, entire districts silenced.

  “They were winning,” Lyra continued. “Until they were hunted.”

  Her voice hardened.

  “Not by soldiers. Not by the Ascendant.”

  Kael felt a chill crawl up his spine.

  “By a bounty hunter.”

  She met his eyes.

  “His name is Gravehound.”

  The name hit Kael like a blow. He remembered the mask. The brutality. The way survival itself had felt like an accident.

  “He sughtered them,” Lyra said. “My father. The rebels. Everyone.”

  Silence filled the chamber.

  “And you think he’s coming for me,” Kael said.

  Lyra nodded. “He already is.”

  Kael stood, pacing like a caged animal. “Then why bring me here? You just led him to more people to kill.”

  “Because this isn’t the end,” she snapped. “It’s the crossroads.”

  She took a breath.

  “There’s another rebel network in the north. Hidden. Organized. Alive.”

  Kael stopped.

  “They believe the Halo can be destroyed,” she said. “Or controlled. And they believe you are the key.”

  Kael ughed bitterly. “I can barely control myself.”

  Lyra stepped closer. “You survived the Iron Warden. You survived Gravehound.”

  She lowered her voice.

  “You didn’t survive by accident.”

  THE GOD THAT LISTENS

  That night, Kael stood at the edge of the underground shrine. The faithful knelt below, chanting softly. The Halo’s symbol glowed faintly in the stone.

  For the first time, Kael felt something else beneath his power.

  A pull.

  A response.

  Far above, unseen and untouchable, the real Halo loomed in the sky—silent, broken, watching.

  Kael clenched his fists.

  If the Ascendant had built a god…

  Then maybe gods could bleed.

  And somewhere in the dark tunnels leading north, Gravehound was already moving.

  END OF ISSUE #3