Story Title :- idle guy
Chapter 3: Bloodline Protocol
The world didn’t feel the same after the gate opened.
The skies shifted. Time felt uneven. Somewhere, thunder cracked without clouds. The old powers—the ones buried beneath mountains, sealed in vaults of language—had stirred. And the name Kael Veyrin was once again being whispered by things that didn’t breathe.
He was no longer idle.
But he was no longer alone either.
They camped at the edge of the Whispering Plains, a dead forest of bone-white trees that leaned toward the east, as if reaching for something that never came. Lira sat by the fire, cleaning her blade. Kael stood with his back to her, staring at the stars that didn’t belong there.
“The Mirrorborn was just a scout,” he said quietly.
“I know,” she replied. “I’ve seen enough horror to recognize a prelude.”
Kael clenched his fist. The runes in his gauntlet were dull now, drained from the earlier fight. He’d need to recharge soon. But that was only part of what bothered him.
“I saw my sister again,” he said.
Lira looked up.
“She was… smiling. Like before the fire. Then the memory changed. She screamed and burned. It just kept looping.”
“The Mirrorborn feeds on grief,” Lira said gently. “Twists memory into a weapon.”
“I made a vow over her ashes. I was supposed to protect the Seal City. Instead, I ran.”
“You survived. And you’re fighting now. That’s what matters.”
Kael didn’t answer. In his heart, he wasn’t so sure.
Elsewhere
Beneath the Imperial Sanctum
A boy knelt before a glowing glyph etched into stone.
He was no older than fifteen, bare-chested, body marked with thin cuts from a blood ritual. A voice echoed in the chamber—deep, metallic, ancient.
“Speak the oath.”
The boy did, in Old Tongue. The glyph pulsed.
“You are now bound to the Veyrin Protocol. Should the Idle One rise, your blood will answer. Your soul will fracture.”
The boy’s eyes glazed, turning violet.
“By fire, by curse, by code,” he whispered. “I serve.”
The machine-god hidden behind the chamber wall purred to life.
Back at the Plains
They traveled at dawn—if the dim haze could be called dawn—toward the ruins of Elarin, an ancient city built around a fountain of living metal. It was said the Old Architects had created the Bloodline Protocol there—an arcane-sci ritual binding certain families to magical destinies across time. The Veyrin name was carved deep into its heart.
Kael needed answers.
Lira walked beside him, silent for once. Her mood had changed since the gate opened.
“I didn’t just follow you to see the world burn,” she said suddenly.
Kael glanced at her.
“I’m cursed,” she admitted. “My bloodline traces back to the Black Library. Every few years, I see things—visions, futures that never happen. But now… I’m seeing you in all of them.”
Kael didn’t react. “That’s not a good sign.”
“No,” she said. “It’s not.”
Elarin
It took them two days to reach it. What remained of the city was buried under crystal dust. Shattered towers, half-sunken gates. Strange machines half-melded into stone—arcane tech from a time when magic and science had no boundary.
They reached the center: a dais with an inactive spire, surrounded by skeletal statues. Runes lined the floor.
“This is it,” Kael said. “The Bloodline Core.”
He stepped forward.
The spire reacted.
Light surged up from the ground, forming a ring around him. His gauntlet detached, hovering mid-air. Symbols—millions—spun around him, too fast to read.
Then—the voice.
“Veyrin. Idle One. Designation: Failure.”
Kael stiffened. “What?”
“Bloodline mismatch. Temporal anomaly detected. Purpose corrupted. Verdict: Rewrite necessary.”
Lira drew her weapon. “What’s it saying?”
Kael was frozen. Inside, he wasn’t seeing Elarin anymore.
He was seeing the future.
Cities burning in the sky. A throne of wires. Himself—wearing armor forged of screaming faces. His own hand strangling Lira.
“I… become him,” he whispered.
Lira grabbed him. “Come back, dammit!”
But the system had already started.
Protocol Rewrite: Initiated.
A blast of energy knocked them both backward. The spire cracked open. And from within stepped a woman clad in white armor—glasslike, floating above the floor.
Her eyes were violet like Kael’s. Her voice, unmistakable.
“Sister,” Kael breathed.
“No,” she said. “I’m the echo they made of her. I’m here to correct your existence.”
She raised her blade.
And the world turned to fire.
End of Chapter 3
