When the boy formerly known as Osin woke, he stared out a massive glass panel window overlooking a city with a clear and perfect view of the sky. He was no longer Osin, he told himself as he strained against what had him bound. The last Yasur, the ancient kings of the Kebulani people, had enlightened him to who he truly was, detached from the hateful name his “father" had given him. Osin was Masir Inajoba, now, and the Bukhiye, the chosen one.

Masir struggled again to free himself from his binds then received a massive electrical shock that left him gasping for air. When his body was left smoking, he heard a door hiss open and in the reflection in the window, he saw a man dressed in grey and white robes walk toward him. The man rounded Masir’s chair and stopped in front of him. His face was young, freshly clean-shaven and darkened by soot and dirt. Smiling, he seemed almost delighted to see Masir, but the boy felt uneasy.

“You're finally awake,” the man said, opening his arms. “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Judas Gottschalk, a member of the Tribune government that your yasur serves.”

Masir’s eyes widened and Judas grinned. “You know the words of my people?” Masir asked.

Judas shrugged. “Some. I've studied the Kebulani and your culture from your line of yasur to your religious beliefs. As you can see, I've placed the soot on my face for prayer.” Masir nodded. Yasur Asterí’s hologram had educated him briefly on most of his people's customs and traditions.

“Why am I strapped down?”

“Ah...that is a good question and the best part. You see, in my studies of the tenets of Metaokan, your Kebulani religion, I uncovered your pantheon. Uninteresting, initially, but...then I saw him. Natasan, the dark god.” Masir frowned deeply. “The way he chooses vessels and grants power to those who summon him is unlike anything I've ever heard of. But he requires a feast and a sacrifice.” Judas opened his arms and walked around the room. “Here we are, Bukhiye. Natasan comes at my call.”

“I'll stop you,” Masir said calmly. Judas’ laugh made him jerk against his restraints.

“Boy...I'd never tell you my plan if there was a chance you could stop me.” He pointed to the ceiling and Masir followed his finger.

A large cylinder filled with erratic energy, sparking with electricity and touched with red, seemed to go out of the room. Masir looked down at himself, suddenly realizing that not only was he restrained but there were tubes attached to him, drawing blood. His golden eyes went to Judas and the man smiled.

“Your blood and distinctive energy signature are the beacon, the prayer calling to him.” Raising his hands in a grandiose gesture, Judas looked out over the water. “And he comes.” Masir didn't want to believe him, straining further against the restraints, only for more electric shocks to strike him. He didn't give up. If he could push past the pain, perhaps he could…

The sky rumbled, shaking the room and cracking the glass on the window. A deep dark crimson glowing light pierced the clouds and shined on the lake separating the bustling city of Asticus from the ruins of Kasira, painting the water red as blood. Judas began to chant ominous words in a Kebulani dialect that Masir didn't recognize.

His eyes caught a figure wrapped in scarlet and black fire descend from the sky before stopping a few hundred feet above the lake. There was a flash of red light, then a booming explosion and when Masir looked up, the figure hovered in front of him and Judas, a malnourished, grey body inhaling and exhaling in rhythmic, hollow breaths. The glass shattered behind him and Judas dropped to his knees and placed his forehead on the ground.

He continued chanting in ancient Kebulani and the figure dipped his head.

“I am he...Natasan,” the figure croaked. Judas continued to chant and Natasan seemed to hum a soft lullaby. “Hush, child.” He extended an emaciated arm, covered in a pitch black gauntlet with hooked talons for fingers to Judas’ chin. Judas looked up and Masir thought he heard him chuckle.

Natasan’s taloned fingers dug into Judas’ neck, causing the man to gurgle and choke on his own blood until the dark god seemed to siphon it into the gauntlet, moaning as he did. As Judas’ body grew thin as a husk, Natasan’s body strengthened and gained color and muscle definition. What remained of Judas fell to the side and Natasan stepped forward, red eyes glowing, looking over Masir.

The boy and the monster stared at each other and Masir took in some of Natasan’s characteristics. His skin was brown, though pale and etched with glowing red veins. The armor he wore looked otherworldly but ancient and chipped as if it had seen many battles. The ebony gauntlet on his arm seemed to emit some sort of energy, pulsating in Masir’s face when Natasan attempted to touch him.

“Thou art the Bukhiye,” he said in a guttural, hollow voice. “A babe…” Masir gulped and felt his heart race. Natasan leaned forward and sniffed him. “Alas, thou art weak. A young key.” The figure turned and walked to the window, facing Asticus. “I have traveled to and fro, having not found what I hungered for until now. And seeing you, I shall devour this world and thee.” In a red flash, Natasan teleported himself away and Masir saw him hovering over the city, red energy forming around his body until he stretched out his ebony gauntlet.

The boy pushed against his restraints before closed his eyes and focused on his inner energy and power, remembering the lessons that Asterí taught him and reminding himself that his new power was difficult to use. He took in a deep breath and released, causing his metal restraints to break away and slam into the wall. Masir licked his dry lips and let his brain register its equilibrium.

He heard the screams of the people below as Natasan seemed to absorb their organic materials and decay the earth below. Masir didn't care about the fate of the humans, nor the fate of the planet. He had been mistreated and feared by every human he had come into contact with…but he did know that Natasan would only grow stronger the more he devoured.

Masir’s amber eyes shifted from left to right, searching for his Acclimator. Without his weapon, shifting at his neural command, he felt helpless. But in exchange for a physical tool, he had gained power, unlocked within his own blood and gifted to him by his dying people in the fires of the explosion that took them and Kasira from him.

He summoned the power of the Yasur from the past, the training that Simeon Grey had given him and his own courage. Though he felt terror, he wouldn't let it guide him.

In a flash of golden light, Masir launched himself from the building, throwing himself at Natasan and blasting him from the sky with a telekinetic push that sounded like the heavens had cracked. Masir hovered a little longer before he decided to conserve his energy and land on the upheaved street below. People scattered like vermin under a sudden flash of light and Masir regarded the pale people that he had once wished to be a part of with apathy.

His senses on high alert, he still barely noticed when Natasan had reappeared in front of him, swiping a clawed hand that tossed Masir through multiple buildings. The demonic creature stayed with him, zapping around in flashes of red light and punishing Masir every chance he could until the boy could barely muster a breath. The last building that he hit crumbled around him. Glass, metal and concrete fell on and around Masir. The Kebulani boy looked up just as a chunk of the floor above him suddenly descended on him. He raised his hand to block it, shielding himself with a telekinetic barrier. Natasan was there again, cackling with a hollowed breath. He held out his gauntlet and quickly extended his fingers, sending a pulsing red wave to Masir that dropped him to one knee and caused the rubble to crash on top of him.

Coughing, the boy pushed the debris off his body and jumped from the building to the nearest rooftop he could find. Scanning the area, he saw Natasan again, grabbing random people and draining them with his gauntlet, blood red wisps of light flowing from them into him armored hand. Masir narrowed his eyes.

The gauntlet. That had to be the source of his power. He had to separate the gauntlet from Natasan somehow but without an AC-8R at his command, that task would be difficult. Maybe the crashed Kebulani ship held weapons and relics from the old planet. There was a chance but Masir would have to get there if he were to find out. With Natasan distracted with his feast, he had an opportunity.

It was gone again, though. Natasan burst through the roof of the building that Masir stood on, ascending to grab him by his throat, the gauntlet’s talons penetrating his skin. “I grow weary of this game, boy. Thou art a young Key. Unworthy to wield the power that lies within thee. I, alone, shall take it.” As his sentence ending, the absorption process began. Masir felt his strength leave nearly immediately and a sharp, near-unbearable pain travel through his body. Natasan, the blood-starved beast, stared into his eyes then dropped him to the ground.

The wind whistled in Masir’s ears as he descended, going silent when his back slammed into the ground. He writhed and flipped onto his stomach. Severely weakened and tired, Masir crawled away as fast as he body would let him. His emotions conquered his resolve and he felt tears flow from his eyes and snot from his nose.

He heard Natasan slowly descend and Masir whipped his head around to see the hollow husk raise his gauntleted hand and point his palm towards him. A red swirl of energy formed in Natasan’s hand, shifting into a orb of scarlet fire. Masir’s eyes widened and he tried to stand to his feet, but the weakness in his legs forbade him.

“It is finished…” Natasan whispered.

A Griffon class carrier crashed into Natasan, skidding across the concrete road before crashing into the side of a building, sending the surrounding block up into blood-tinged fire. In front of Masir, a figure garbed in white Tarsus armor staggered to their feet and the Kebulani boy frowned and surged to his feet.

The figure raised their hand and lifted the helmet off. Masir paused and blinked. Messy ginger hair floated from the the helm and Masir saw pale skin and pink lips. Green eyes locked onto his amber and he felt his chest tighten.

Anais had come to save him.