AK : RISING MYTHIC

The air inside the Bound Threshold had quieted.

No more whispers.

No more blades.

Just two figures facing each other—one burning with ancient power, the other with defiance and pain that refused to yield.

Kar'Thæl stood still, astonished. His previous attempts to bind had failed. Arslan had resisted not with magic, not with weapons, but with something far more dangerous—his soul.

The demon-lord-turned-vessel-seeker had never encountered it before.

And then… Arslan broke the silence.

His voice came out sharp, dark, and fierce.

> "Now you listen, dog's son. I speak."

Kar'Thæl raised a brow, almost amused.

But Arslan's tone held no humor.

He took a step forward, eyes blazing.

> "I understand your pain. You think you're the only one with loss?"

> "I haven't seen my father since I was six."

His voice cracked slightly but steadied quickly.

> "My mother… she always told me never to ask about him. 'Not until you're twenty,' she'd say."

He shook his head, eyes distant for a breath.

> "When I turned twenty, she finally told me the truth: He was taken. Just one night—he was working, and demons came. They dragged him away like some experiment."

> "I told everyone. The council. The knights. The forums."

> "But no one believed me."

He locked eyes with Kar'Thæl again.

> "So don't talk to me like I don't know what it means to lose someone."

Kar'Thæl's mouth parted slightly, his expression unreadable.

Arslan continued.

> "You lost your family."

> "So did I."

> "You want answers."

> "So do I."

The torchlight in the chamber dimmed as the Threshold seemed to hold its breath.

> "So I've got a deal for you."

Kar'Thæl's expression shifted—surprised again, then skeptical.

> "A… deal?" he repeated.

Arslan crossed his arms. "Yeah. You want to bind? Fine."

Kar'Thæl stepped slightly forward.

> "You're saying you'll let me?"

Arslan nodded. "Under my rules."

The air crackled with tension.

Arslan began counting on his fingers.

> "Rule one. You hide your identity. No demonic fire shows. No glowing red eyes in public. You're invisible to the world unless I say otherwise."

> "Rule two. You follow my orders. No exceptions."

> "Rule three. You hurt no one unless I tell you. Not even accidentally."

Kar'Thæl narrowed his eyes. "Tight leash you're building, child."

Arslan raised a brow, unfazed.

> "Rule four…" He smirked faintly. "You don't peek when I'm bathing."

Kar'Thæl blinked. "What?"

Arslan smirked wider. "You heard me. You're living in me. That includes boundaries."

For a moment, the ancient being of dread and power just… stood there. Caught between confusion and incredulous laughter.

Arslan held up a final finger.

> "Rule five. I get full access to your powers. To use against devils. No limits."

Kar'Thæl folded his arms, shadow flickering behind him like wings. His expression dropped again into disdain.

> "So… you want me to become your slave?"

Arslan shrugged casually. "Call it whatever you want."

Then his tone darkened, hard as obsidian:

> "Die… or accept the rules."

Kar'Thæl stared at him. Long. Silent. The fire in his eyes dimmed, then flickered back up in resignation.

> "I have no choice left…"

His jaw tightened.

> "Fine."

> "I'll accept your fucking rules."

The chamber shivered as Kar'Thæl extended his hand.

A tremor surged through the ground.

> "Let it be so."

Arslan stepped closer. Inches apart now.

He met Kar'Thæl's gaze and smirked. "Let's go, babe."

> "Let the devils meet their fall."

Kar'Thæl raised both hands—his fingers spreading like claws, then forming runic patterns in the air. Symbols—ancient, twisting—burned between them like cosmic seals.

The floor cracked open beneath Arslan, but he didn't fall. Instead, chains of light spiraled up around him—binding, not breaking.

Kar'Thæl began chanting in a language older than time—his voice layered, deep and echoing with past and future.

Arslan felt a heat surge through his chest.

> "Binding Protocol Initiated," Kar'Thæl whispered.

The runes pulsed and pressed into Arslan's arms, neck, and spine—burning, sinking—but not scarring.

> "Soul-threading," Kar'Thæl said.

Arslan's knees buckled slightly.

Pain lanced through his ribcage like he was being stitched to a storm.

But he didn't scream.

He only exhaled.

Kar'Thæl's hand pressed against Arslan's chest.

> "Let the fire sleep beneath your skin."

> "Let my will kneel to yours."

> "Let our pact be shadow and shield."

Then, as the final rune sealed—

A massive wave of dark energy exploded inward, collapsing the flames, the sigils, and all sound into silence.

Arslan's body jerked once—

—and he collapsed.

His cloak spread out beneath him as he hit the cold ground, eyes closed, unconscious. His breathing was shallow, but steady.

Kar'Thæl stood over him—no longer a separate being.

Now, he was within Arslan.

And yet, not fully one.

His voice echoed faintly inside the room—inside Arslan's mind.

> "So it begins."

> "I'm yours now… Arslan."

> "Let's see what kind of storm we become."

NOW THE 'AK' HAS BEEN COMPLETED..

Then the Bound Threshold chamber darkened.

The throne reassembled itself behind them.

And in the silence that followed, a single crack echoed through the sealed gate—as if the world outside had sensed that something ancient, bound, and hungry…

…had just found a new home...