The Gate tore the horizon open like a wound.
Light spiraled into the sky in violent ribbons, twisting into a circle large enough to swallow the northeastern plains whole. The clouds bent inward toward it, dragged by a force older than language, older than the continent, older than the rules this world thought it understood.
The alarm across the Academy cut out completely.
The silence that followed felt wrong—like the world was holding its breath, afraid to make a sound.
Inside Sebastian's dorm, the Big 8 stood frozen at the window.
Andrea's fingers twitched around her bowstring, knuckles white. "That… that is not a micro-Gate."
Kael's scanner glitched, rebooted, then crashed entirely. "No system can read it. No system can classify it. It's not in any tier—dimensional, spatial, divine, technological—it's outside everything."
Adriel whispered something under his breath—prayer, curse, pleading—it didn't matter. No god could hear him now.
Rhea backed away from the window, unable to tear her eyes from the swirling vortex. "Something's coming through."
Garet stepped forward until his shadow merged with the window frame. "Then we go."
Kenjie shook his head. "We don't rush a Gate like that. We have no idea what kind of entity will step through."
"It doesn't matter," Garet said, jaw set like stone. "If civilians are out there—"
Luna's voice cut through all of them.
"We're not leaving."
Everyone turned.
Luna was kneeling at the edge of Sebastian's bed, arms around his shoulders, face pressed to his temple as she held him against her chest. He wasn't awake, but he wasn't fully asleep either—caught between worlds, between selves, between identities.
His fingers twitched toward her again, seeking anchor.
Luna's voice shook, but her resolve did not. "He's slipping. If he falls too deep, that Gate won't open for the continent."
Andrea's lips parted. "It'll open for him."
Luna nodded, her voice breaking. "And whatever's calling him will have a clear path."
Kenjie cursed softly. "Then how do we keep him awake if his mind keeps getting dragged?"
Rhea looked around the room. "We can't fight something inside his head."
"No," Adriel said quietly, "but we can fight to keep him here."
Luna brushed Sebastian's hair back, fingers trembling as she forced his gaze toward her. "Sebastian. Stay with me. Stay in this world. Don't listen to him."
His breathing hitched.
His eyelids flickered.
"…trying…"
The lights flickered again.
A low pulse hit the Academy—a thrum so deep it shook the minerals in the walls. The windows darkened automatically as dimensional shielding tried and failed to respond.
Kael glanced at the scanner—nothing but static.
"Gate stability just spiked," he muttered. "Whatever's coming through… it's close."
Andrea stiffened. "Then we split."
Luna snapped her head up instantly. "No."
"We have to," Andrea said. "If this thing comes through while he's half-conscious—"
"If you go," Luna said, voice trembling with anger, "you'll leave him vulnerable."
Kenjie stepped forward. "Luna. Look at him."
She didn't.
So Kenjie knelt and gently placed a hand on Sebastian's shoulder.
"Sebastian," he said quietly, "look at me."
The boy didn't.
But a faint tremor rippled through his fingers.
Kenjie nodded, a grim acceptance settling on his face. "He hears us. Even now."
Then he stood and spoke to the others.
"And that means we handle both fronts."
Rhea tilted her head. "Both?"
"Yes," Kenjie said. "We keep him awake."
He drew his blade.
"And we go meet whatever's coming."
Andrea stepped forward next, bow raised. "Then we move as two groups."
Garet nodded once. "Team A handles the Gate."
Andrea pointed at Rhea, Adriel, and Kael. "You three with us."
Kael blinked. "Why me—"
"You're the only one who can track the Gate's fluctuations," Andrea said. "Without you we're blind."
Rhea exhaled sharply. "And Adriel's the only one with divine resistance."
Adriel straightened, though his hands trembled. "I… will do what I can."
"And you?" Garet asked Rhea.
She cracked her knuckles, wind swirling around her palms. "I control the field."
Andrea nodded. "Then we go."
Kenjie looked at them. "I stay."
Andrea met his gaze. She understood instantly.
Kenjie couldn't leave Sebastian behind.
Luna's eyes softened for the first time since the Gate appeared. "Thank you."
Kenjie shook his head. "I'm not doing it for him."
He looked at Luna.
"For you."
Luna blinked once.
Then gently leaned closer, whispering into Sebastian's ear as if volume alone could anchor a soul.
"Sebastian… follow my voice."
Andrea brought the others to the door.
Garet looked back once. "Keep him alive."
Luna narrowed her eyes. "Do your job."
He smirked faintly. "I always do."
With that, Team A stormed out of the dorm.
The door slid shut.
Leaving Luna, Kenjie, and Sebastian in a room that felt smaller than before—as if the walls themselves were leaning in to listen.
The Gate pulsed again.
A distant roar—too deep, too ancient, too wide—shook the Academy.
Kenjie paced in front of the window like a caged beast. "What do you feel from him now?"
Luna stroked Sebastian's cheek gently. "He's fighting."
Sebastian's jaw clenched faintly.
"…too loud…"
Kenjie winced. "He hears the Gate?"
Luna nodded. "He hears it calling."
Another pulse.
Sebastian's back arched slightly, breath catching.
Luna cupped his face with both hands. "Sebastian, listen to me—not him."
His fingers curled around her wrist.
Kenjie turned sharply. "That's good. That means he's choosing."
"No," Luna whispered, voice trembling. "It means he's hurting."
Her forehead pressed to his. "Sebastian… stay. Stay here."
His throat moved.
"…trying…"
Then—
The world outside exploded with light.
Kenjie spun toward the window. "Something came through!"
Luna didn't look up.
She couldn't.
Because Sebastian suddenly gasped—sharp and ragged—as if someone had plunged their hand into his chest and squeezed.
His aura flickered violently.
His resonance stuttered.
The room trembled.
Kenjie yelled, "Luna—!"
But she already felt it.
The moment the Gate opened, the presence behind it stopped being an echo and became something else.
Something real.
Something stepping closer.
Sebastian's body shuddered once.
Then—
His eyes snapped open.
Not fully.
Not awake.
But wide enough for Luna to see the reflection of the Gate's light glowing inside his pupils.
And he whispered—voice layered, distorted, echoing with something that wasn't him:
"…he's here…"
Kenjie froze mid-step.
Luna's blood ran cold.
"Who?" she whispered.
Sebastian's fingers tightened around hers until she winced.
He breathed out a single word—
The name of the one the Gate had anchored for.
"…the Architect…"
The Gate swelled in the eastern courtyard like a malignant heartbeat, a sphere of warped air and vibrating light straining against the fabric of the Academy's reality. The pressure deepened with each pulse, a low thrum that made the stone tiles tremble and the lampposts shiver as though touched by invisible hands. Team A slowed as they approached, their silhouettes taut with readiness, breaths steady but shoulders tensed beneath the weight of the unknown.
Commander Valric lifted a fist, halting the squad. His eyes narrowed, scanning the anomaly as arcs of pale-blue mana crawled across its surface like serpents.
"It's accelerating," he murmured. "Faster than the reports predicted."
Kenjie Velstorne stepped forward, the hem of his coat lifting in the rhythmic gusts the Gate exhaled. His eyes, ancient in focus despite his youth, traced the instability patterns dancing along the Gate's edge. "No," he said. "It's responding."
Arcturus Helvane, the Academy's strongest shield-bearer, planted his tower shield into the ground with a dull, echoing thud. "Responding to what?"
Kenjie's gaze flicked toward the direction of Dormitory Row—toward the room where Sebastian Raizen lay. "To him."
Before anyone could speak, the Gate convulsed.
A sharp, cracking boom tore the silence, and hairline fractures of light spiked outward, lashing like spectral whips. The courtyard exploded into motion as the shockwave raced across the stone. Shields were raised, enchantments erected, boots skidding as the force slammed into the assembled defenders.
Arcturus braced, mana flaring across his shield to absorb the brunt. Commander Valric dug his heels in, stabilizing with practiced precision. Kenjie simply stood, the shockwave parting around him like a stream around stone.
Then the Gate tore open.
The sphere split along a jagged seam, revealing a darkness so deep it seemed carved from nothingness itself. From that void, a sound rippled outward—neither roar nor cry, but something lower, hungrier, and infinitely older. A cosmic exhalation from a dimension that did not understand life as mortals did.
And from the tear, the first creature stepped through.
It was tall—a good three meters—but impossibly slender, its limbs like needle-sharp branches forged from obsidian glass. Its body flickered between solidity and shadow, as though it hadn't fully decided if it wanted to exist. Eyes—too many eyes—opened along its torso, each glowing with a muted violet.
Commander Valric's voice boomed across the courtyard. "Manaform Entity detected! Defensive formation—now!"
Arcturus slammed his shield forward, the protective array on its surface flaring to life. Six overlapping barriers blossomed outward in a dome, locking around Team A just as the creature lunged with bone-splitting speed.
The impact was catastrophic.
The courtyard floor cratered as Arcturus's shield caught the strike, but the shockwave launched several mages off their feet. Students watching from distant balconies stumbled, gripping the rails as the night lit up with clashing mana.
Kenjie was already moving.
A single step, and his silhouette blurred. The air rippled around him as he reappeared behind the creature, blade drawn, mana dancing across its edge with frightening clarity. He sliced upward—clean, precise, absolute.
The creature's arm fell.
The entity screeched, the sound layered as though dozens of voices screamed simultaneously. It reared back, shadows boiling around its frame as it attempted to reconstruct itself.
Kenjie didn't allow it. His blade struck again, and again—slashes so fast the air split, lines of vacuum drawing sparks as they carved through the courtyard stone.
But with every strike, the Gate pulsed harder.
As if something on the other side recognized the interference.
As if something was waking up.
And then, far from the courtyard—inside Dormitory Row—Sebastian Raizen's body jerked.
His breath seized, eyes snapping open with a violent gasp that wasn't entirely his. The room dimmed, shadows lengthening unnaturally as if pulled toward him. Luna staggered back, suppressing a cry as her vision doubled—Sebastian's aura flared so violently that reality thinned around the edges.
Jovhan grabbed her forearm. "Stay back—!"
But the warning was too late.
A surge of energy blasted from Sebastian's chest, rippling like an invisible shockwave that made the walls tremble as if struck by an earthquake. His heartbeat wasn't rhythm—it was thunder, each pulse resonating with something beyond the mortal world.
Words slipped from his lips, unconscious, not his voice but layered, distorted—like two versions speaking at once.
"—synchronization… anomaly… breach detected…"
Jovhan's blood ran cold.
"That's not him."
Luna rushed forward, planting a hand on Sebastian's shoulder. Mana surged through her palm, stabilizing runes igniting. She pushed her will into him—calm, steady, grounding—despite the static slicing through her senses.
"Sebastian… listen to me. Stay anchored. You're here. You're awake."
For a moment, the chaotic aura thrashed—violent, wild, unfamiliar.
Then his eyes focused on her.
Not fully—but enough.
His voice cracked, fragmented. "Gate… opening…"
Luna's heart froze. "We know. The Academy is handling it."
Sebastian's fingers twitched. His breathing steadied, but his aura did not lessen—it intensified, coiling around him like a storm held barely in check.
"No," he whispered. "Not that Gate."
Before Luna could ask—
A second pulse burst through the Academy.
Everyone felt it.
The instructors in the command hall stiffened as the mana scanners spiked off the charts. Arcturus's shield flickered. Kenjie stumbled for the first time since the fight began, eyes widening.
Another Gate signature.
Stronger.
Far stronger.
And not in the courtyard.
Professor Enra sprinted into the command deck, voice hoarse. "Another breach detected! Coordinates—west sector—outer forest!"
Commander Valric's expression drained of color. " Another one? There shouldn't be—"
Enra slammed a fist against the console. "This one wasn't predicted!"
Kenjie's eyes narrowed, his voice low and cold:
"…No. This one wasn't detected."
Because it wasn't naturally forming.
It was reacting.
To Sebastian Raizen.
Back in the dorm, Sebastian forced his head up, sweat beading across his brow, voice trembling but firm.
"It's not one Gate," he said. "It's the first wave."
His gaze drifted toward the window, toward the west forest where the horizon was beginning to burn with violet light.
"They're coming."
Luna's hands shook.
"Who?"
Sebastian swallowed, voice barely a whisper.
"The ones that followed me."
And outside, in the night, the second Gate cracked open like an eye awakening after millennia.
Sebastian's warning hadn't finished echoing before the world outside answered.
The second Gate split open with a tearing shriek, a vertical wound of violet fire against the forest's silhouette. Trees buckled as roots tore from the soil, dragged toward the expanding tear like iron filings pulled into a magnet. Birds scattered in panicked flocks. The night sky flickered, momentarily dimming as though the Gate drank from the heavens themselves.
Inside the courtyard, the first Gate-beast screeched, its many eyes swiveling toward the distant anomaly. It convulsed violently, its fragmented form rippling as if receiving an unspoken command.
Kenjie's blade froze mid-swing.
"…It's resonating."
Arcturus dug his shield into the ground. "With what? That forest is empty."
Commander Valric's voice came out tight. "It isn't anymore."
The first creature lunged backward—not toward the defenders, but toward the west, like a hound called home. Kenjie moved instantly, his silhouette blurring as he appeared before the gate-beast's path, blade drawn across its trajectory in a sweeping arc.
The courtyard erupted again as the slashing mana met the creature's body. A fissure of light carved across the beast's form, splitting it from shoulder to hip. But this time, instead of reforming slowly, the wound stitched itself together almost instantly, shadows rushing to fill the gap.
"It's accelerating!" Arcturus shouted. "It shouldn't be able to regenerate this fast!"
Kenjie exhaled once, steadying his stance.
"It's drawing strength from the second Gate."
Then the second shockwave hit.
The world quaked. Stone fractured. Windows shattered across the eastern dorms. The courtyard's ancient pillars groaned under the pressure as the mana field rippled outward, bending reality like fabric pushed by an unseen fist.
The Gate-beast stopped struggling.
It bowed.
Its many eyes closed—and then reopened, glowing with a unified, unnatural gold.
Luna felt it first.
Sebastian's pulse synchronized.
His heartbeat jumped—once, twice—and then settled into the same rhythm as the distant Gate. His aura reacted violently, tendrils of mana erupting from his body and crashing into the dorm walls like storm waves.
Jovhan grabbed Luna, pulling her away as debris broke loose from the ceiling.
"Get back! His aura is destabilizing again!"
But Luna refused.
Her hand pressed against Sebastian's chest, her palm shaking but determined as she poured stabilizing mana into him.
"You're not losing yourself," she whispered fiercely. "Not now. Not ever."
Sebastian's eyes fluttered, but when they opened, they weren't fully his.
Violet rings flickered around his pupils—encroaching, sectoring, analyzing.
The foreign consciousness inside him—
the fragment from the other side—
was waking up.
His voice came out distorted, layered with a second cadence beneath his own.
"Signal… received.
Convergence… achieved.
Directive… locating primary—"
A violent tremor cut through him, his back arching as though struck by lightning.
For one split second, Luna saw it—
a glimpse, a flash, a silhouette burning at the edge of reality.
Another Sebastian.
Older.
Sharper.
Eyes like a void that remembered everything.
A shadowed figure extending a hand—
not to help,
but to reclaim.
Then the vision shattered.
Sebastian collapsed back onto the bed, chest heaving as the foreign presence retreated, shaken loose by Luna's stabilizing aura.
But the damage was done.
He had synchronized—
even for a moment—
with the Gate.
Which meant the thing on the other side now knew his location.
Jovhan's voice cracked as he stared out the window, watching the distant violet blaze rising like a second dawn.
"…We need to move him."
Luna shook her head. "Move him where? The entire Academy is turning into a frontline!"
Sebastian stirred weakly, pushing himself up with trembling arms. His breathing was ragged, but his consciousness—his real consciousness—had returned enough for him to speak clearly.
"Listen."
Both siblings froze.
Sebastian's gaze, though exhausted, burned with clarity. "The first Gate in the courtyard… that's just a bleed."
He pointed—slowly, painfully—toward the west.
"That one… that's a connection."
Luna's face drained of all color. "A connection to what?"
Sebastian swallowed hard.
"To them."
Outside, in the west forest, the trees snapped like toothpicks as something massive stepped through the second Gate.
Something far larger than the first creature.
Something ancient enough that the ground itself bent beneath its presence.
A limb emerged—armored in jagged black plates, each glowing faintly with etched symbols that twisted the light around them. Then another. The Gate widened, stretching unnaturally, allowing the hulking silhouette behind the armor to step through.
Even from kilometers away, the pressure hit the Academy like a tidal wave.
Students staggered.
Mana pools destabilized.
Lower-ranked instructors collapsed to their knees.
The first creature in the courtyard immediately fell prostrate, its many eyes dimming in reverence.
Kenjie Velstorne felt his breath hitch in his chest.
"That… is no vanguard."
Arcturus's shield cracked at the top, a fine webbing of fractures climbing its surface.
"Then what is it?"
Kenjie didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
Every instinct in his body screamed the truth:
This wasn't a monster.
This was a herald.
A being sent to prepare the world for something far worse.
A voice echoed from the forest—low, resonant, and layered with ancient authority.
"Locate…
the fragment."
The courtyard creature lifted itself shakily, its eyes blazing gold again.
Then it turned its head toward Dormitory Row.
Directly at Sebastian.
Luna felt her blood freeze. "They're hunting him."
Sebastian exhaled, steadying his trembling limbs as he shifted to sit upright. His hair hung over his face, shadowing the exhaustion etched into every line of him.
"No," he whispered. "Not me."
Luna frowned. "What do you mean?"
Sebastian lifted his gaze.
"They're hunting the part of me that didn't belong here."
Jovhan's heart dropped.
"You mean—"
"The echo.
The piece that followed me across the breach.
The one that wasn't supposed to exist."
Luna tightened her grip on his arm. "And if they find it?"
Sebastian stared out the window as the Herald took another earth-shaking step, its towering silhouette illuminated by the Gate's violet flames.
"If they find it…"
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"…this world becomes the next one they devour."
Outside, alarms triggered across the Academy grounds as the lotus-array defense system began activating automatically. Sigils on the walls flared, emitting beams of golden light that formed interlocking barriers.
But even those shields flickered under the Herald's aura.
The air vibrated.
The stone cracked.
And then—
The Herald turned.
Its golden eyes locked onto the Academy.
And it began walking toward them.
Not running.
Not charging.
Walking.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
As though certain that nothing in this world could stop it.
Commander Valric's voice thundered across the courtyard. "ALL HANDS—PREPARE FOR TOTAL ENGAGEMENT!"
Kenjie's blade rose, the air around him vibrating as he called forth the full weight of his mana.
Arcturus planted his cracked shield again, shouting orders to brace the defenses.
Students cried out. Instructors flooded the courtyard. Mana surged as the Academy prepared for a war it had never been trained for.
And in the dorm…
Sebastian Raizen stood.
Barely.
Shaking.
Pale.
But standing.
Luna reached out. "Sebastian—"
He cut her off with a look—calm, certain, terrifyingly resolute.
"I need to face it."
Jovhan gripped his shoulder. "You can't even stand straight. That thing will crush you."
Sebastian exhaled, aura flickering like a candle in a storm.
"I don't need to beat it."
His eyes hardened.
"I just need to stop it from finding him."
Outside, the Herald raised one colossal hand—
and the world bowed under its shadow.
The Herald's hand descended like a falling moon.
Wind detonated across the courtyard, flattening grass, shredding banners, and cracking the outermost barrier layer. The lotus-array trembled, golden runes straining like a taut net dragged against a tidal wave.
Kenjie Velstorne was already moving.
He launched himself forward, a streak of silver cleaving through the air, blade igniting in a corona of force. His slash struck the descending hand—an impact like a star colliding with stone—and for one impossible moment, he held the Herald back.
But only for a moment.
The Herald turned its head with mechanical slowness, acknowledging the defiance of a mortal. Its arm shifted. The weight increased. With a single flex, it pushed downward.
Kenjie's knees buckled. His boots cracked the stone. Blood beaded along his palm where he gripped the hilt.
Arcturus roared, slamming his shield into the ground. A defensive barrier exploded outward, reinforcing the lotus-array just as the Herald's pressure dipped again.
The shield fractured further, spiderweb cracks glistening across its surface.
"Hold!" Arcturus roared, mana surging from his body like a furnace.
The Herald's eyes flickered, evaluating.
"…insufficient."
It moved its other arm.
Kenjie's vision blurred. Arcturus felt his bones groan. Students screamed as they were thrown back by shockwaves too strong for untrained bodies.
And in the distance, Sebastian Raizen stepped out of his dormitory.
His posture wasn't that of a hero. His legs still trembled, and every breath was a sharp cut in his lungs. Luna hovered beside him, supporting his weight even when he pretended she wasn't.
Yet the moment he crossed the threshold, reality shifted.
The air rippled.
The Herald froze.
Not because of Sebastian's strength—
but because something inside him echoed.
A signature the Herald recognized.
A signature it was sent to retrieve.
Sebastian felt the gaze crash onto him like a mountain. His lungs seized. His knees nearly collapsed.
But he took another step.
The Gate-beast in the courtyard turned sharply, many eyes widening—not in reverence this time, but in alert recognition.
"The fragment…" it whispered in a dozen layered voices.
The Herald spoke too, its voice a deep resonance that shook the Academy's foundations.
"Locating target… confirmed."
Luna's fingers dug into Sebastian's arm.
"Sebastian, don't—"
He kept walking.
Every step felt like wading through storm winds, his aura resisting the pull of the entity searching for him. The foreign presence inside him—
that fractured echo—
stirred violently.
He could feel it clawing at him, thrashing, reacting to the Herald's proximity.
Not out of fear.
Out of instinct.
Because they were connected.
Sebastian straightened his back, forcing the foreign consciousness down.
"You don't belong here," he muttered under his breath.
Luna's eyes widened.
"You're talking to—"
"Yes."
He didn't look at her.
He couldn't afford to.
The Herald lifted its hand from Kenjie, shifting its attention entirely toward the young man limping across the courtyard.
Kenjie gasped as the pressure lifted, collapsing to one knee. Arcturus staggered as the weight vanished, sweat pouring down his face as he dragged in desperate breaths.
Kenjie forced his head up.
"Sebastian—run."
But Sebastian didn't stop.
He walked until he stood at the front of the defenders, separated from the Herald only by a cracked barrier and several dozen meters of empty courtyard.
The Herald loomed above him, towering like a mountain of blackened armor and shifting ethereal mass.
Its voice lowered to a resonance so deep the ground trembled.
"Identified…
Fragment Host."
Luna's heart stopped.
The creature knelt.
The ground cratered under its knee. Cracks spidered outward. Dust plumed in a ring. Every student in the courtyard felt the ancient ritualistic motion—an acknowledgment of rank, of purpose, of mission.
It didn't kneel in submission.
It knelt as one would kneel before a superior officer.
It bowed its head.
"We have come to retrieve you."
The words were not a threat.
They were an order.
Sebastian's pulse pounded in his ears. The foreign consciousness surged inside him, as if responding to a command it had been programmed to obey.
His vision blurred.
His thoughts hazed.
For a moment, his own mind drowned in a sea of alien memory—
The sensation of standing above armies.
The weight of crushing worlds.
The endless march through broken universes.
The echo of a command chain older than time.
Luna shook him violently.
"Sebastian—stay with me! Look at me—look at me!"
Her voice was a rope thrown into a storm.
Sebastian latched onto it.
The haze shattered.
He gasped, sweat rolling down his jawline. His knees buckled, but he caught himself.
"I'm not your fragment," he whispered weakly.
The Herald lifted its head.
Its many runes ignited in a slow, spiraling pattern.
"Correction denied.
Signature matches.
Fragment Host located."
Sebastian's hands clenched.
Luna stepped forward, raising her arms, mana flaring around her, forming a spiraling barrier between Sebastian and the Herald.
"You're not touching him."
The Herald shifted its attention to her.
"Secondary entity detected.
Irrelevant."
It raised its hand—
A massive shadow fell over Luna.
Sebastian moved.
He didn't think.
He didn't measure.
He didn't analyze.
He simply moved.
His hand grabbed Luna's shoulder, yanked her behind him, and his aura erupted in a violent, unstable burst—
the same unstable energy that had nearly torn his dorm to pieces earlier.
The Herald paused.
Not in surprise.
In recognition.
The echo inside Sebastian surged again, roaring to the surface.
"For—ward…"
"—link…"
"—identity overwrite…"
Sebastian clutched his head.
Luna's eyes filled with fear. "Sebastian—what's happening to you?"
He forced the words out through clenched teeth.
"It's trying to… wake up."
The Herald extended its hand fully now—entirely, deliberately—ready to seize him.
Kenjie forced himself up, staggering into a stance.
Arcturus braced again.
The defenders ignited their spells.
But they all knew—
If the Herald touched Sebastian,
everything was over.
The Herald's fingertips brushed the outer barrier.
The lotus-array shattered.
The light snuffed out.
And the world slowed.
Wind froze mid-gust. Dust hung motionless in the air. The clouds above stopped drifting. The moon's glow dimmed to a pale grey.
Time didn't stop.
It hesitated.
Then something cracked open behind Sebastian's eyes.
A presence—ancient, cold, calculating—pushed against the walls of his mind.
He felt a hand on his shoulder.
Not Luna's.
Not Jovhan's.
Another.
A silhouette he had seen in flashes.
A voice he had almost remembered.
"…Get up."
Sebastian's breath hitched.
The foreign consciousness—
the Echo—
spoke.
"You are not ready to face it.
So I will force you to survive."
Sebastian's vision filled with white.
Luna's scream echoed from somewhere far away—
her voice stretching, warping—
as the Herald's hand reached for him.
And then—
Sebastian's aura detonated.
The world snapped back.
A blinding surge of light exploded from Sebastian's body, hurling the Herald backward, cracking the earth, shattering the courtyard tiles in a shockwave that rippled for hundreds of meters.
Kenjie shielded his eyes.
Arcturus dug his shield into the ground again.
Students ducked behind pillars as the shockwave tore across the Academy.
Luna was the closest.
She caught the full force—
but Sebastian's aura curved around her, sheltering her completely, like a wall of light parting to spare a single flower in a storm.
When the brilliance dimmed—
Sebastian stood at the epicenter.
Not glowing.
Not radiant.
Not transformed.
Just standing.
Breathing heavily.
Fragile.
Mortal.
But alive.
The Herald rose from the crater, its armor cracked, its runes flickering erratically.
For the first time…
It hesitated.
The echo inside Sebastian whispered again.
"We are out of time."
Sebastian lifted his head, eyes trembling but determined.
"This world isn't yours."
The Herald tilted its head.
"Your resistance is irrelevant."
It raised its hand again—
And the third Gate began to open behind it.