The rain hadn't stopped in days.

  It came down in heavy, punishing sheets, turning the ground to mud and drenching every crumbling stone in the ruins. Thunder grumbled low in the sky, a warning that went unanswered.

  Kael, Deyna, and Lira moved silently along the outskirts of the abandoned courtyard.

  They weren’t alone.

  The Brotherhood of Sleep had found them.

  These weren't the usual zealots—no. These were the elite, the ones whispered about in terrified rumors. Warriors trained not just to kill, but to erase.

  Tonight, they had come for the Masked Man.

  And tonight, he answered them.

  The first body dropped before Kael even saw the attack. A Brotherhood assassin — cloaked in black, wielding curved blades — crumpled without a sound.

  The Masked Man moved like a phantom through the storm, faster than sight, heavier than the rain.

  Another assassin lunged, a spear flashing toward the Masked Man’s chest. Kael barely managed to cry out before—

  Steel rang against steel.

  The Masked Man caught the spear with a single gauntleted hand and shattered it as if it were glass. His movements were brutal, efficient — every blow he struck ended with someone broken or bleeding.

  But then came him.

  The leader.

  An assassin larger than the others, his armor marked with crimson runes, his mask carved into a permanent snarl. He moved like a man who had killed gods and forgotten their names.

  The clash was unlike anything Kael had ever seen.

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  The leader struck hard, driving the Masked Man back with a series of savage, whirling attacks. Blades flashed, bodies blurred.

  The Masked Man dodged most of them, parried others — but even he wasn’t untouchable.

  And then it happened.

  A lucky strike.

  The Brotherhood leader hooked a blade beneath the Masked Man’s hood — and ripped.

  The cloth tore away, fluttering into the mud.

  For the first time, Kael saw his face.

  He staggered backward, heart hammering against his ribs.

  The Masked Man's skin was marked by deep scars, old burns crossing his jaw and cheek, a brutal map of suffering. His eyes, half-hidden beneath a ragged lock of black hair, burned with a strange intensity — fury, sorrow, and something Kael didn’t want to name.

  But it wasn’t just the damage.

  It was the shape of the face underneath.

  It was familiar.

  Horribly, painfully familiar.

  Not like looking at a stranger — but like staring into a twisted, broken mirror.

  Kael’s mind reeled. He felt Deyna and Lira stiffen beside him, even though no one said it out loud.

  They all felt it — the wrongness, the impossible resemblance.

  The Masked Man and Kael...

  They looked alike.

  The Brotherhood leader faltered for just a second, startled by the reveal.

  It was enough.

  With a roar that seemed to tear the storm apart, the Masked Man surged forward.

  His blade flashed once — and the Brotherhood assassin fell, blood staining the mud black.

  Silence crushed the courtyard.

  The Masked Man straightened, his torn hood dripping rain down his face. His gaze swept across Kael, Deyna, and Lira — lingering just a heartbeat longer on Kael.

  There was something like regret in his scarred eyes.

  Then he turned and vanished into the ruins, the storm swallowing him whole.

  Kael stood frozen in the rain.

  Questions burned in his throat, but he couldn't force them out.

  Because deep inside, beneath all the confusion and fear, he already knew:

  The Masked Man wasn’t just some enemy.

  He was something much, much worse.

  It’s one of the earliest seeds I planted when dreaming up The Awakening.

  And Kael? He’s only just starting to see how deep this story really runs.

  What was your reaction when Kael saw the Masked Man’s face?