The sun had not yet risen, but the village square of Lumina had turned into a slaughterhouse.

  The army Kaelen had raised in the graveyard did not stay there. Driven by his terror and the bracelet’s command to "defend," they had marched into the heart of the village.

  "Hold the line! Protect the Elder!"

  The shout came from Commander Horgus Moonfell—Lyra’s father. A mountain of a man with scars running down his arms, he stood at the front of the defensive formation, his heavy iron shield battered but unbroken.

  Behind him stood Elder Valen Thornridge—Kaelen’s father. Valen was not a warrior; he was a scholar and a leader. He stood pale and horrified, clutching his staff, watching the boy he raised turn into a nightmare.

  "Horgus, don't hurt him!" Valen pleaded, his voice cracking over the roar of the undead. "That is my son!"

  "That thing is not your son, Valen!" Horgus roared, slamming his shield into the face of a risen corpse—a man who had been the village smith in life. He shoved the Elder behind him. "Get back!"

  The Commander and his crew—the village militia and burly dockworkers—had formed a shield wall around the Elder. They were fighting for their lives against their own ancestors.

  But the smith was not the only threat. Behind him, a massive figure pushed through the horde.

  It was Hareth, the dead baker.

  In life, Hareth’s arms had been thick from years of kneading heavy dough. In death, that strength was fueled by dark magic. He didn't shamble like the others; he charged. Hareth swung a rusted iron pry bar with bone-crushing force, smashing it against the militia’s pikes, snapping the wood like twigs.

  "Hold!" Horgus shouted, bracing his shoulder against his shield as the Baker slammed into him. The impact shook the Commander to his teeth.

  From the roof of the granary, Lyra rained down cover fire.

  She was just like her father—fierce and disciplined. Thwip. Thwip. Thwip. Her arrows pinned the risen dogs and smaller animals to the mud, buying precious seconds for her father and the Elder.

  "Don't let them break the formation!" Lyra shouted down to the crew, her voice raw.

  For a moment, it looked like the fathers might hold. Horgus kicked the dead smith back and deflected a blow from the baker.

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  But in the center of the chaos, Kaelen stood alone.

  He was shaking violently. The stress of seeing his father terrified, Lyra’s father bleeding, and the dead fighting the living was too much. The bracelet’s defense mechanism triggered. The metal on his wrist pulsed with a violent, rhythmic beat.

  Kaelen zoned out.

  His eyes rolled back, the frantic green consumed by a milky, blind grey. The sounds of Horgus shouting and his own father crying faded into a dull, underwater roar.

  In the vision, the village vanished. Kaelen floated in a void. He saw the massive chest deep underground, wrapped in black chains. He felt the hunger of the thing inside.

  “They are attacking us,” the voice whispered, twisting Kaelen’s fear into pure aggression. “Crush them.”

  In the real world, a shockwave of grey energy exploded from Kaelen’s body.

  The effect was instant.

  The dead baker, Hareth, suddenly shrieked. His dead muscles bulged, tearing his shirt. He dropped the iron bar and grabbed the rim of Horgus’s shield with his bare hands. With a roar of unnatural power, the Baker ripped the shield aside, sending the Commander stumbling back into the Elder.

  "Horgus!" Valen shouted, grabbing his friend’s arm to steady him.

  "They're getting stronger!" one of the crewmen yelled, panic breaking his voice. "The line is breaking!"

  The dead animals ripped themselves free from Lyra's arrows, ignoring the torn flesh. They moved faster now, fueled by Kaelen’s trance.

  "Kaelen!" Lyra screamed from the roof. She saw the grey light pouring off him like smoke. "Stop it! You're killing them!"

  She slid down the ladder and sprinted across the square, dodging the snapping red fox. She tackled Kaelen, slamming him onto the cobblestones.

  "Wake up!" she shrieked, shaking him hard.

  Kaelen gasped, the physical impact shattering the vision. The grey faded from his eyes. He looked up and saw the horror—his power had nearly killed both their fathers. Horgus was on one knee, bleeding from a gash on his forehead, shielding Valen with his own body.

  "Father..." Kaelen whispered, tears filling his eyes.

  The dead baker raised a heavy paving stone, ready to crush the Commander and the Elder together.

  "NO!" Kaelen screamed.

  But before his command could reach the dead, the sky tore open.

  "ENOUGH!"

  A pillar of blinding gold light slammed into the earth between the fathers and the monsters. The impact was like a physical wall; it sent the undead flying backward like ragdolls, their bones cracking against the stone.

  Aureon descended within the light, his spear burning with the fury of the sun. He stood between the humans and the dead, a wall of divine, scorching judgment.

  At the same moment, the shadows from the forest edge surged forward like black water. They didn't burn; they suffocated. The shadows wrapped around the ankles of the dead animals and the risen villagers, freezing them instantly in place.

  Varkhul, along with his army, stepped out of the darkness, his hand raised in a clench.

  The fighting ceased instantly. Commander Horgus lowered his shield, breathless, staring at the golden figure. Elder Valen stared at the shadow figure in shock.

  The Gods had arrived.