The golden light moved like a tide through the stone corridor, spilling along the walls, pulling you forward into the unknown.

You tried to resist — every step felt stolen from you — but the radiance clung to your skin, your breath, your pulse. It summoned, not asked.

The tomb opened like a secret chamber, vast and echoing. At its heart lay a circular pool, still and pure as glass, its surface shimmering with the same unearthly glow.

And beside it, waiting as though he had always belonged there, stood Zayne. The God of Annihilation.

He did not look startled to see you. His gaze, steady and sure, held the quiet conviction of someone who already knew how this story would unfold.

“You came,” he said softly. Not triumph, not surprise — inevitability.

Your throat tightened. “I didn’t choose this.”

“No,” he agreed, stepping closer, his voice low as the chamber itself. “You were chosen.”

When you tried to retreat, the golden current surged stronger, locking your feet in place. You felt its pull in your blood now, an ancient rhythm beating alongside your heart.

Zayne reached for you. His hands were warm when they closed around your arms, lifting her as though the ritual had waited for this single touch.

He carried you into the glow of the pool, its surface rippling with light that climbed their skin in spirals, marking them both.

You shook her head, desperate, whispering, “It can’t—please, it can’t end like this.”

Zayne’s eyes burned with a certainty that made you shiver. “It does not end,” he said, the words like an oath etched into stone. “It begins. The bond was written before us. You cannot break it by wishing. And I will not let you try.”

Zayne drew you closer, his forehead resting against yours, his breath mingling with your uneven one. His vow was not shouted but spoken like a truth older than time:

“From this moment, your desires are mine to guard. Your will is mine to carry. Through fate, through fire, through eternity — I am bound to you.”

The light seared them both, and when it dimmed, silence reigned. But neither could deny what the ritual had revealed: the bond was no longer hidden. It had always been there, waiting.