The Academy had never known stillness like this.
Not after duels, not after disasters, not even after the first two Gates. This silence was different—thick, oppressive, the kind that pressed down on lungs and hearts alike. As if the world itself was waiting, listening, holding its breath for something inevitable to unfold.
The courtyard, once the heart of the southern district, was now a scarred wasteland. Stone tiles had been upturned like broken teeth. Craters burned with residual mana. The air reeked faintly of ozone and evaporated dimensional residue. The violet wound in the sky—left behind by the warped third Gate—flickered in and out like a heartbeat buried beneath storm clouds.
But beneath that ruin, buried under dust and fractured earth, one truth remained more terrifying than any Gate.
Sebastian Raizen had touched something forbidden.
Something the Academy had no rules for.
No teachings for.
No way to contain.
And now he lay unconscious, carried by the Academy's elite deeper into the heart of the southern infirmary, where only the highest-level emergencies were ever allowed.
Luna Blossomveil refused to let go of him.
Her grip was tight yet trembling, knuckles white, arms shaking from exhaustion and pain—her mana channels were still scorched, her circuits cracked from the backlash of touching him at his most unstable moment. But she kept her hands pressed to him as if the slightest distance would reopen the Gate and swallow him whole.
She didn't look left or right as they moved. She didn't respond to students calling her name, instructors offering support, medics rushing alongside them. Her focus was a razor-thin line.
Sebastian's face.
His too-pale skin.
His shallow breathing.
His pulse that fluttered like a trapped bird.
The deeper they carried him, the more the world seemed to blur around her.
She whispered his name every few breaths, as if forcing the syllables into the real world could anchor him there.
"Sebastian… Sebastian… stay with me… just stay…"
Jovhan walked at her side, eyes sharp, one hand hovering near his blade out of instinct—but for once, even he seemed troubled. Not by the catastrophe around them, not by the destruction, not even by the bending of the Gate.
By Sebastian.
By what he had become.
Luna didn't notice until they turned toward the sealed section of the infirmary—a pair of enormous metallic doors engraved with layered runes that shimmered under the hallway's cold light.
Five healers waited there, all wearing long white coats with silver-threaded insignias indicating top-tier mastery. Behind them, the air flickered with dimensional anchors stealing excess mana from the environment to stabilize space.
Professor Aria—chief medical authority of the Academy—stepped forward the moment Luna appeared in view. Her eyes widened briefly at the sight of Sebastian's limp, battered body.
"…Bring him in. Quickly."
As they passed the threshold, the runes on the doors lit up and the hallway dimmed, the atmosphere shifting instantly. Inside this sealed wing, ordinary mana felt distant, muffled, as though swallowed by invisible layers of nullification.
Luna synced her breathing to his as best she could.
In.
Out.
In…
Out…
She felt her own heartbeat jitter, skipping beats. Pain surged up her arms from the mana overload, but she ignored it, clinging to the rhythm of his pulse.
Professor Aria stopped them with a sudden motion.
"Luna," she said firmly. "His aura is still unstable. You need to let us take him."
"No," Luna whispered instantly, clutching him tighter.
Aria lowered her voice.
"I understand. But this is an order. His aura rejected external mana—it may still reject physical proximity. If you stay like this, it could see you as a threat."
Luna's eyes trembled.
"I'm not a threat to him."
"But the power inside him can't tell the difference," Aria said gently. "Please."
Luna hesitated.
And then—slowly, painfully—she loosened her grip.
The moment her hands left his skin, she felt her entire chest cave inward as though someone had torn something from her. She exhaled shakily, arms falling limp at her sides. Jovhan moved closer, steadying her before she collapsed.
The healers lifted Sebastian carefully onto a crystal-frame bed lined with arrays designed to dampen and redirect energy without touching the patient directly. The moment his body touched the surface, the runes beneath him sparked violently—flaring white, then dimming again.
Aria inhaled sharply.
"…Even unconscious, his aura is resisting containment."
One of the junior healers muttered, voice cracking.
"What… what kind of state was he in?"
No one could answer.
Because no one knew.
Aria turned to the others.
"Activate the floating cradle. No direct contact."
The bed lifted, suspended by magnetic force and guided by soft beams of light toward a deeper chamber—one reserved only for catastrophes, those whose power risked rupturing the building if improperly handled.
Luna moved to follow.
Aria raised a hand.
"No. You stay here."
Luna froze.
"I have to—"
"You will see him again," Aria said calmly. "But if you enter that chamber in your current state, the residual aura bound around your mana channels will destabilize the entire room. You could kill him without meaning to."
The words hit her harder than any strike she had taken today.
Her knees buckled.
Jovhan grabbed her again, supporting her weight. His voice was low but steady.
"Luna. Let them work."
She wanted to fight.
To claw her way inside.
To reach him.
But she couldn't.
Her legs wouldn't move.
Her arms felt numb.
And for the first time since the Gate opened—
she realized she was shaking.
"…Sebastian…" she whispered weakly.
The crystal bed drifted around a corner and vanished behind a sealed wall of shimmering runes.
The last thing she saw was his face, pale and still, before the barrier swallowed him.
And then he was gone.
The moment the door sealed, Luna collapsed completely, falling to her knees in the hallway, hands trembling uncontrollably. The sounds around her—medics moving, runes humming, Jovhan calling her name—muffled as if underwater.
Her breath hitched.
She didn't cry loudly.
She didn't scream.
A single tear slipped down her cheek, silent and heavy.
Then another.
She buried her face in her hands.
Jovhan knelt beside her, not touching her—just waiting.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Then he exhaled quietly.
"…Luna," he murmured. "We almost lost him."
She shook her head violently.
"No," she whispered. "No, no, no… I won't accept that. I can't."
Jovhan studied her quietly.
"You care for him more than you're willing to admit."
Luna didn't respond.
She didn't need to.
The trembling in her shoulders said enough.
A heavy silence lingered before footsteps echoed down the hallway. Arcturus marched in first, armor dented, shield cracked in two. Kenjie followed, sword still glowing faintly with traces of golden fire.
Both stopped the moment they saw Luna on her knees.
Kenjie's jaw tightened.
Arcturus shifted his weight, not knowing where to look.
"Luna…" Kenjie said quietly, walking closer. "He's alive. That's what matters."
Her voice came out small.
"He almost wasn't."
Kenjie didn't argue.
He had seen it too.
All of it.
The moment the Gate almost ripped Sebastian's essence out of his body.
The moment the Herald almost crushed them all.
The moment Sebastian pushed back with something that did not belong to this world.
Arcturus exhaled.
"…He'll wake up. He's Sebastian Raizen."
Luna looked up slowly, her violet eyes hollow.
"But what version of him will wake up?"
Both boys fell silent.
Because the truth weighed heavily:
No one knew which Sebastian had pushed that Gate.
Which Sebastian had shattered the Herald.
Which Sebastian had spoken with a presence from beyond the dimensional veil.
And whether the boy they knew
was the same one that now lay unconscious inside that sealed room.
Before anyone could respond, Valric arrived—pale, exhausted, but upright. The commander leaned heavily on the wall for support, his voice rough with strain.
"Arcturus. Kenjie. With me."
The two rankers straightened instantly.
Jovhan frowned.
"What's going on?"
Valric's gaze hardened.
"The Headmaster has summoned an emergency council now that the Gate has… altered." His eyes flicked above, through the ceiling, toward the bent scar still flickering in the heavens. "It's changing our entire threat assessment."
Luna slowly pushed herself to her feet.
"I'm coming too."
"No," Valric said immediately. "Students are not permitted—"
"You'll let me in," Luna said coldly, stepping toward him. She lifted her scorched forearms. "I was closest to him. I held him when it tried to take him. You need me."
Valric hesitated.
He looked at her eyes—burning, unyielding.
And he nodded once.
"You're coming."
Jovhan straightened.
"I go as well."
Valric studied him.
"Why?"
Jovhan's expression was unreadable.
"…He's my brother."
Silence fell.
No one questioned it further.
Valric turned sharply.
"Move. Now."
The group began down the hall, their footsteps echoing into the dim-lit corridors.
But Luna paused.
Just once.
She looked back at the sealed door—
the faint white glow of the arrays flickering beneath it—
and whispered, so softly only the walls heard:
"Please… wake up."
Inside the chamber, Sebastian remained motionless.
Floating.
Silent.
But deep within his fractured consciousness—
beneath the layers of exhaustion and pain—
something stirred.
Not a voice this time.
Not a command.
A memory.
A throne carved from broken worlds.
A silhouette leaning forward.
A hand reaching for him.
Return.
His fingers twitched.
And the world outside did not feel it.
But the Gate did.
Far above the Academy, the bent violet scar pulsed—
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
As if answering him.
The council chamber beneath the Academy was not a place meant for students.
It was a relic of a previous age—an era when Verneville had nearly torn itself apart in a war between Archmages and celestial invaders. Cold metallic walls curved inward like the ribcage of a titan, inscribed with runes so ancient that no one alive fully understood them. Arcs of dim blue mana pulsed through conduits embedded in the floor, connecting the entire chamber to the heart of the planet's leylines.
In normal times, the echoes of these conduits hummed softly, like a heartbeat at rest.
Tonight, they thundered.
With every pulse, the floor trembled beneath their feet.
The emergency council table—an oval of blackstone mixed with starmetal—gleamed harshly under the pale ceiling-lights. The seats around it were usually filled by high-ranking officials: division heads, senior instructors, noble delegates.
But tonight, only six individuals sat waiting.
The Headmaster.
Professor Enra of Arcane Sciences.
Commander Valric.
Draco of Spatial Theory.
Lady Riven of the Magitech Integration Division.
Elandir of the Dimensional Research Bureau.
Their expressions were drawn tight, eyes shadowed, postures rigid with an unspoken fear. They did not speak. They did not breathe loudly. They watched the entrance as though expecting something eldritch to crawl through it.
When the doors parted with a slow metallic sigh, the air shifted.
Kenjie, Arcturus, Jovhan, and Luna stepped inside. The moment the doors sealed behind them, the atmosphere became crushing—heavy with the presence of authority and ancient power.
The Headmaster spoke first.
"You arrive late."
His voice wasn't angry, nor impatient. It was simply tired—like a man who had witnessed too many calamities unfold in a single life.
Valric bowed deeply.
"My apologies. The students needed time to recover from the shock."
The Headmaster's gaze drifted to Luna.
Then to Jovhan.
Finally to Kenjie and Arcturus.
"Four students entered the battlefield and confronted an entity that outclassed even our highest predictions," the Headmaster said slowly. "And only one of you holds the key to why the Gate changed."
Luna's hands curled into fists.
She stepped forward.
"He saved us."
Professor Enra's eyebrows furrowed.
"No one disputes that," he said. "But the question is: from what? And… from who?"
Kenjie spoke next, his voice steady but grave.
"The Herald was acting under orders. Its intentions weren't destructive. It was trying to retrieve someone."
Enra nodded.
"Correct. It wasn't attacking indiscriminately. It moved with purpose. It moved toward Sebastian Raizen."
A murmur of agreement rippled across the council table.
"What troubles me," Enra continued, adjusting his glasses, "is the manner in which it identified him."
Kenjie frowned.
"You mean when it called him… 'fragment'?"
Enra's gaze sharpened.
"Exactly."
Luna's breath hitched.
Her eyes darted to the council members.
"What does that mean…? What does it want from him?"
Draco leaned forward.
"When the Herald first addressed him, the dimensional turbulence around the Gate increased tenfold. Its behavior wasn't random. It wasn't even adaptive." He paused. "It was recognizing something."
Arcturus stiffened.
"Recognizing… Sebastian?"
"No," Draco corrected.
"Recognizing what lies inside him."
Silence fell.
Luna swallowed hard.
Inside him.
The same presence that had come alive when Sebastian pushed back against the Gate.
The same aura that bent a cosmic structure with brute force.
"What exactly is inside him?" she asked quietly.
The Headmaster raised a hand to stop Draco from answering prematurely.
"It is not something we can explain lightly," the Headmaster said. "Nor fully understand."
Luna pushed forward.
"I don't care how difficult it is. I want to know."
The council members exchanged looks.
Valric was the one who spoke next.
"When the third Gate opened," he said slowly, "we detected a phenomenon never before recorded in any Gate—something we are now calling a convergence echo."
Jovhan's eyes narrowed.
"Convergence… with what?"
Elandir tapped his fingers on the glowing panel in front of him, pulling up a projection—an image mid-flicker, captured during the crisis.
The warped silhouette of the shadow behind the Gate.
The entire room seemed to dim as the projection stabilized.
Luna's breath caught.
Even in two-dimensional form, its presence was suffocating.
"This was watching us," Elandir said. "This is what reached toward Sebastian Raizen. And this—"
He tapped the screen.
Four runes pulsed.
"—is what identified him."
Kenjie leaned forward.
"What is that symbol?"
Enra answered.
"The universal mark for an 'exterior fragment.'"
Jovhan's expression darkened instantly.
"Explain."
Draco inhaled deeply.
"In dimensional theory, a fragment is not a piece of the world you stand on."
He pointed at Sebastian's still image on the second projection.
"A fragment is a piece of a higher being."
Luna went pale.
Arcturus exhaled slowly.
Kenjie froze.
Jovhan's jaw tightened.
Lady Riven added loudly for clarity:
"That shadow was not trying to devour Sebastian.
It was trying to reclaim him."
Luna's heart twisted.
"No," she whispered. "No, that's impossible—Sebastian is—he's just—"
The Headmaster interrupted softly.
"He is not 'just' anything anymore."
Luna tried again, voice shaking violently.
"He's a person. He's Sebastian Raizen. He's my—"
She cut herself off.
The Headmaster finished gently.
"He is still a person, Luna. But he is also something else."
Enra tapped the projection again, revealing a series of energy scans taken during the battle.
All around Sebastian's body, his white aura wasn't merely shining.
It was repelling the Gate.
Repelling its rules.
Its mechanisms.
Its authority.
"This is impossible," Lady Riven whispered. "No one—no one—overrides a Gate."
Draco nodded slowly.
"Unless the Gate recognizes the presence as part of itself."
The room froze again.
Every eye snapped toward the projection of the shadow behind the Gate.
The silhouette leaned forward.
Its hand reaching.
Its voice echoing.
Fragment.
Return.
Luna felt her breath breaking apart.
"…It wants him back."
Not as prey.
Not as enemy.
Not as target.
As belonging.
Kenjie clenched his fists.
"Whatever that thing is—Sebastian pushed it back. He pushed the Gate back."
Enra nodded gravely.
"Yes. Which means one of two things."
He raised a single finger.
"One: Sebastian Raizen is the most powerful anomaly this world has ever produced."
He raised a second finger.
"Or two: We are witnessing the reawakening of something sealed inside him—something not meant for this world."
Luna's voice trembled.
"So what do we do?"
The Headmaster folded his hands.
"For now, nothing."
Luna stared at him in disbelief.
"Nothing!? He's—"
"He is stable for the moment," the Headmaster said. "But his state is fragile. And whatever is inside him is reacting to every external stimulus. Touch. Mana. Aura. Intent."
Enra added softly:
"If we interrogate him violently, force awakening, or provoke him… we may accelerate something we cannot reverse."
Luna felt cold fear settle into her spine.
"Then… what happens next?"
The Headmaster looked at each of them in turn.
"Next, we prepare."
"For what?" Arcturus asked.
The Headmaster's eyes drifted upward—toward the ceiling, toward the distant sky, where the bent violet scar pulsed faintly.
"For when the Gate returns for him."
Luna felt the room tilt.
Her legs nearly buckled again.
"Are you saying… it will open again?"
Draco exhaled.
"Not might."
"Will."
"It bent. It adapts. It learns. And now—"
He pointed to the projection.
"Now it knows he exists."
Kenjie stepped toward the table.
"Then we fight it. We protect him."
Valric shook his head slowly.
"You saw what it took to stop one Herald."
Arcturus frowned.
"Then we train him. Teach him to fight back."
Enra spoke in a tone almost sorrowful.
"He can already fight back."
He gestured to the projections.
"He pushed a Gate."
The Headmaster concluded quietly.
"We do not train him.
We do not control him.
We do not restrain him."
Every eye turned toward him.
"We survive him."
Luna felt something inside her snap.
She slammed her hands on the table, voice exploding with raw emotion.
"He is not a threat!"
Her voice cracked and shattered in the chamber's echo.
The council let the outburst hang for a moment.
Then the Headmaster's voice softened.
"No. He is not a threat."
He paused.
"But what sleeps inside him… is."
Luna's body trembled again.
Not from fear.
From rage.
She opened her mouth to respond—
But the floor shook.
Slightly.
Barely.
Enough to make every mage in the room freeze.
Draco's eyes widened.
"No… no, that can't be—"
The Headmaster stood instantly.
"Is that—"
The walls dimmed.
The lights flickered.
A pulse rippled through the air.
The bent violet scar in the sky—
pulsed again.
But this time,
the pulse responded to something inside the Academy.
Something waking up.
Jovhan turned to Luna immediately.
"Where is he!?"
Luna's heart slammed inside her chest.
The sealed room.
Sebastian.
She bolted toward the door.
The Headmaster's voice echoed behind her—
"Follow her! NOW!"
The hallways trembled again.
Not violently—not like when the Gate shattered the sky—but subtly, rhythmically, like something deep beneath the Academy had begun to stir in answer to an unseen call. Every mage in the building felt it. Every sensor crystal glowed with warning sigils. Every mana conduit pulsed out of sync.
Draco was the first to recognize it.
"Dimensional resonance," he whispered, breath shortening. "It's him. The resonance is coming from him."
The Headmaster's expression hardened.
"Then we move. Immediately."
Luna had already taken off running.
Her boots hammered against the polished stone floors, each impact echoing through the dimly lit corridor like the pounding of her own frantic heartbeat. Her mind wasn't thinking—more accurately, it was thinking too much. Images flashed behind her eyes: Sebastian screaming as the Gate tried to rip him apart; Sebastian floating in a column of burning white light; Sebastian collapsing, lifeless in her arms.
And now, those same memories twisted with fear—
What if he woke alone?
What if he woke confused?
What if he woke… wrong?
Jovhan sprinted beside her, jaw tight, expression unreadable. Kenjie followed, golden aura flickering faintly around him from residual exhaustion. Arcturus was just behind, one hand on his cracked shield.
They didn't speak.
There was no need.
Each felt the same primal urgency clawing at their ribs.
The sealed wing loomed ahead—its metal doors etched with layers of protective runes glowing brighter with every pulse from inside the chamber.
Two guards tried to stop Luna.
"You can't—! The chamber is unstable—!"
Luna didn't even slow.
A burst of aura forced the guards aside—not violently, but irresistibly—as she pressed her hands against the cold metal surface.
The moment her palms touched the door, white sparks flared across the runes.
The entire corridor froze.
Jovhan's eyes widened.
"…Did the seals just react to her mana?"
Kenjie frowned.
"That shouldn't happen. Her aura is nowhere near the resonance threshold."
But the runes weren't reacting to her power.
They were reacting to something through her.
Something tied to Sebastian.
Before she could push further, the Headmaster appeared behind them, his staff lightly tapping the floor. Mana circles spiraled outward, calming the unstable currents in the hall.
"Stand back," he ordered.
Luna gritted her teeth, refusing.
"I'm going in. I don't care what protocol says."
The Headmaster met her gaze.
Firm.
Heavy.
Unyielding.
"You cannot enter. Not until we assess the danger."
Her voice cracked.
"He needs someone—he needs—"
"He needs you to stay alive," the Headmaster said softly. "If you die inside that room, he will blame himself."
Luna's eyes widened.
Her breath hitched.
Her knees nearly buckled under the weight of that truth.
Jovhan gently placed a hand on her shoulder.
"He's right. If something's waking up inside him… it may not recognize friends from threats."
Kenjie nodded.
"We go in controlled. Not desperate."
The Headmaster stepped forward.
His hand hovered above the runes.
"Prepare yourselves."
Elandir's voice came from behind as he and Draco arrived, both panting from the sprint.
"Headmaster—if the resonance amplifies, the inner chamber might—"
They didn't finish.
Because the runes turned black.
Every single one.
The entire door flickered with dead light, as if a color had been sucked away.
Kenjie took a step back.
"What the hell…?"
Draco's face went pale.
"No… no, this isn't right. Runes don't deactivate themselves. Not even under nullification fields."
Elandir's voice trembled.
"That means something inside is overriding them."
The Headmaster raised his staff instantly.
"Get back!"
Everyone leapt backward.
The metal doors convulsed.
Then exploded outward in a storm of white dust.
Not a violent blast—not like a bomb or a spell detonation.
It was as if the entire door simply weathered into powder in a single instant—its physical structure erased, its essence unmade.
Luna shielded her eyes with her arm, her breath caught in her throat.
The dust settled.
And the chamber was revealed.
No beds.
No instruments.
No healers.
No walls.
Everything inside the room—every object, every rune, every enchantment—had been stripped clean. Only a hollow, circular void remained.
Sebastian floated in the center of it.
Unconscious.
Suspended above the ground by thin, spiraling strands of white light that curved around him like rib-like contours of a cocoon. His body was limp, chin resting against his chest, hair drifting weightlessly. The light around him pulsed in slow, rhythmic waves.
Like breath.
Like a heartbeat.
Luna gasped.
Kenjie froze, his jaw clenching.
Arcturus whispered under his breath.
"…Is he doing that… unconsciously?"
Jovhan stepped forward slowly.
"Sebastian…"
The Headmaster raised a hand to stop him.
"Do not approach."
But the warning was too late.
Sebastian twitched.
Just a finger.
Just a slight curl of his hand.
But the air changed instantly.
A pressure swept across the chamber—silent, invisible, suffocating. Draco stumbled backward, clutching his chest. Elandir choked on a breath. Even Valric, hardened by countless battles, braced his legs against the floor.
Luna felt her entire body seize.
"…Sebastian…?"
The white strands constricting the air flickered.
Pulse.
Pulse.
Pulse.
Then—
His eyes opened.
Every heart in the room stopped.
Not because of the glow—
not because of the light—
but because of the silence that followed.
Sebastian did not gasp.
Did not inhale sharply.
Did not twitch violently.
He simply opened his eyes and stared forward.
White.
Completely.
Not blinding.
Not explosive.
Just two calm, empty, unbroken white irises that reflected nothing.
Kenjie swallowed hard.
"…That's not a consciousness flare. That's not aura overload. That's—"
"Awakening," Enra whispered from the doorway where he had arrived late.
Luna felt her throat tighten.
"Sebastian… can you hear me…?"
His gaze drifted slowly toward her—
not with recognition,
not with confusion,
but with a slow, deliberate awareness—
as though a foreign presence was controlling the motion.
The strands of light around him tightened.
The pressure intensified.
Draco grabbed the Headmaster's arm, whispering urgently:
"He's syncing with something."
Elandir added, voice cracking:
"Dimensional alignment… is shifting inside him."
The Headmaster gripped his staff, preparing a containment spell—
But Sebastian moved.
He didn't raise his hand.
He didn't gesture.
He didn't channel mana.
He simply looked at the Headmaster.
And the runes on the staff flickered and died.
The Headmaster's breath caught.
"Impossible…"
Kenjie stepped forward instantly.
"Sebastian! Focus—if you can hear me, you need to—"
Sebastian blinked.
Only once.
And Kenjie's golden aura was snuffed out like a candle in a storm.
His knees buckled.
He caught himself on his palm mere inches from collapsing.
Arcturus rushed to steady him.
"What happened—!?"
Kenjie gasped for air.
"He— he looked at me and my aura just… shut down—"
The pressure in the room grew heavier, twisting like a tightening vice around everyone's ribs.
Luna took a step forward—against orders, against logic, against every warning the council had given her. She reached out a trembling hand.
"Sebastian… it's me."
His eyes shifted toward her—
and the white glow pulsed once.
Everyone braced.
No one breathed.
But instead of crushing pressure—
the aura softened.
Just around her.
A small circle of calm formed beneath her feet. The strands around Sebastian flickered gently, almost tenderly, in her direction.
Jovhan's eyes widened.
"…He recognizes her."
The Headmaster exhaled shakily.
"Or something inside him does."
Sebastian's lips parted.
A whisper escaped—
not from the boy,
not in his voice,
but layered with another tone beneath it:
"A—…chor…"
The room fell still.
Luna stepped closer.
"Sebastian?"
His head tilted slightly—
unnatural, rigid, too smooth—
like a puppet adjusting its posture.
His voice came again.
"Anchor."
A chill went down everyone's spine.
Draco stepped back.
"No… no, that's a retrieval term—dimensional constructs use it to stabilize their fragments—"
Luna reached for Sebastian desperately—
And the moment her fingertips touched the white strands—
The world cracked.
A ripple burst outward, throwing everyone except her and Sebastian against the walls. The Headmaster hit the far side of the chamber, staff shattering. Kenjie rolled across the floor. Arcturus's shield snapped clean in half. Jovhan slammed into the doorframe, blood splattering across his knuckles.
Luna didn't feel the impact.
Her hand had touched Sebastian.
His white eyes widened.
Her violet ones mirrored them.
And then—
His voice—
Sebastian's true voice—
broke through.
"…L–Luna…?"
Her breath caught.
His hand twitched toward hers.
"Help… me…"
And then the white glow around him convulsed violently.
Not awakening.
Not stabilizing.
Breaking.
The chamber began to implode inward—
walls bending,
runes shattering,
air folding like melted paper.
Draco screamed:
"HE'S LOSING CONTROL—GET HIM OUT OF HERE—!"
But Luna didn't move.
Her voice cracked in raw terror.
"Sebastian—stay with me!"
His eyes fluttered.
Then—
A sound tore through the air.
Not a roar.
Not a scream.
Not a word.
A pulse.
Dimensional.
Violent.
Final.
Light swallowed the chamber.
And everything went white.
The blinding white flash collapsed just as suddenly as it erupted.
The world slammed back into existence in fragments—shattered echoes of sound, splintered vision, air vibrating like a chord stretched too tight. Dust drifted through the warped chamber where walls had buckled inward, folding like soft metal. Runes flickered weakly. The floor groaned under collapsing weight.
For several seconds, no one moved.
Not because they were unhurt—
but because reality itself was still stabilizing.
Slowly, the whiteness receded.
Shapes returned.
Breath returned.
And Luna was the first to rise.
Her knees trembled. Her palms were scraped raw. But she forced herself upright, pressing against the tilted floor as her vision cleared enough to see the space where Sebastian had floated.
Her heart plummeted.
The cocoon was gone.
The strands of light were gone.
Sebastian… was gone.
Her voice cracked.
"…Sebastian?"
Silence.
Broken only by the crackle of failing enchantments.
Jovhan staggered to his feet next, coughing violently as he pushed debris off his chest.
"What—where—did he…?"
Kenjie braced himself against the broken wall, still gasping as his aura slowly reignited like a badly damaged engine. Golden sparks flickered around him.
"I… can't… sense him."
Arcturus, wincing as he pushed fragments of stone aside, glanced around with wide, frantic eyes.
"He didn't teleport. I didn't see a spatial fracture—nothing like when a mage shunts through the arc lines."
Draco, on the ground, turned slowly—fear swallowing the color from his face.
"That wasn't teleportation. That wasn't a spell. That wasn't anything I've ever studied."
The Headmaster rose last.
Not weakly.
Not slowly.
With purpose—despite the heavy dust clinging to his robes and the shattered remains of his staff still at his side. He wiped blood from his lip with a shaking thumb and surveyed the ruined chamber.
Then he spoke, voice low and grave.
"He was claimed."
Luna snapped toward him.
"What does that mean?"
The Headmaster didn't answer at first. He walked forward, stepping into the center of the chamber. The floor still hummed faintly with dimensional residue—white, cold, unsettlingly silent. He knelt and pressed his palm against the cracked stone.
Everyone watched.
Kenjie's face hardened.
"Headmaster… what do you mean, 'claimed'?"
He closed his eyes.
"Something made contact with him. Something dormant. Something old."
Draco paled.
"The shadow from beyond the Gate?"
The Headmaster shook his head.
"No. This was not the Gate's signature. It was… foreign, even compared to that."
Foreign.
The word echoed through the devastated chamber like a curse.
Jovhan stepped closer, fists clenched.
"Foreign how? Another universe?"
"No," the Headmaster whispered. "Foreign as in… not meant to exist here. Something outside our cycle. Outside all cycles."
Luna felt her chest tighten.
"Did it take him?"
The Headmaster opened his eyes.
"No."
Luna froze.
"What do you mean, no?! He's gone—"
"He is not gone," the Headmaster interrupted gently. "He was… pulled inward."
Arcturus blinked.
"Inward?"
"To himself," the Headmaster said. "Into whatever lies… inside him."
Silence crashed over them.
A single sound broke it—the soft echo of a pair of footsteps approaching the broken doorway. Valric entered, eyes scanning the ruin, jaw tightening as he took in the devastation.
"Explain," Valric demanded, voice stiff.
The Headmaster rose fully, meeting the professor's stare.
"Sebastian is reliving something. Or facing something. Or awakening into something. But it is happening internally, beyond our reach."
Draco shook his head.
"That makes no sense—dimensional collapse doesn't take someone into themselves—"
"This one did," the Headmaster cut in. "Because the force did not originate here."
Luna clenched her fists so tightly her nails dug into her skin.
"What do we do?"
The Headmaster turned toward her, expression carrying a sorrow she wasn't used to seeing on his face.
"There is nothing we can do."
Her breath hitched violently—like being stabbed between the ribs.
Kenjie stepped in front of her protectively.
"That's unacceptable. He helped save this Academy—he saved us. There has to be a way—"
"There is no path to rescue someone who has been pulled into a dimensional core," the Headmaster said firmly. "That is not travel. That is… consumption."
Luna staggered backward as if struck.
Consumption.
The word tasted like iron in her mouth.
Jovhan snapped.
"That can't be it! We wait. We watch. We keep the area stable. He'll resurface. He has to."
The Headmaster didn't argue.
He simply placed a hand on Jovhan's shoulder.
"I hope you are right."
Draco moved forward, analyzing the lingering light residue.
"If he's inside himself… then he is facing whatever is responsible for the resonance."
Valric folded his arms, expression steeled.
"Then he's fighting something."
Luna whispered.
"…alone."
Her knees finally buckled.
She caught herself on the floor, fingers trembling, tears threatening even if none fell.
But then something unexpected happened.
A small flicker of light.
Barely noticeable.
Barely a shimmer.
Barely a ripple of mana.
But it appeared right where Sebastian had been floating.
A tiny white spark hovering an inch above the cracked stone.
Luna's head jerked up.
"What—?"
The spark pulsed.
Once.
Twice.
Kenjie stepped forward, eyes widening.
"That's… that's his signature."
Jovhan stared in disbelief.
"He left a trace?"
The Headmaster moved closer, studying the spark with unblinking intensity.
"No," he murmured. "That is not a trace."
The spark pulsed again.
Stronger.
Clearer.
A soft vibration passed through the chamber—gentle, warm, almost like a heartbeat.
"That," the Headmaster whispered, "is a tether."
Luna pushed herself upright.
"What does a tether mean?"
The Headmaster finally allowed himself a small, hopeful breath.
"It means he intends to return."
The spark brightened.
Everyone exhaled at once.
But their relief was short-lived.
Because the spark suddenly warped.
The simple pulse grew faster.
Sharper.
Chaotic.
Draco's eyes widened.
"Wait—something's interfering with it—"
The spark twisted violently—
—and burst.
Light scattered into threadlike shards that shot across the cracked chamber, weaving into a sigil on the floor:
A broken circle
split by a jagged vertical line
and a whirl of white flame behind it.
Draco dropped to his knees.
"Oh no…"
Kenjie swallowed.
"What is that…?"
Arcturus's face tightened.
"…I've never seen a symbol like that."
The Headmaster slowly backed away from the sigil.
His voice was a whisper.
"A warning."
Luna's breath froze.
"Warning… from him?"
"No," the Headmaster said grimly. "A warning to him."
The sigil seared itself into the stone like burning frost—
and then it vanished.
The chamber dimmed.
And Luna finally whispered the words no one wanted to hear:
"…Sebastian is in danger."
No one contradicted her.
No one offered comfort.
Because they all felt the same truth:
Whatever Sebastian had awakened
had recognized him.
And now—
it wanted him.
The sigil's afterimage still burned in the air long after its frost-white glow had vanished, lingering like a scar across everyone's vision. No one spoke. No one moved. Even the mana hanging in the chamber felt hesitant—like the world itself was holding its breath.
Then the walls groaned.
A deep, ancient sound.
A sound that did not belong to stone.
Every student snapped toward the noise.
The Headmaster raised a hand immediately. "Stay alert."
But the chamber wasn't collapsing.
It wasn't breaking.
It was… reacting.
The cracked runes around them flickered to life one by one, as if waking from a long, unwilling sleep. Their glow was faint, unstable, but undeniably active.
Draco stepped closer, squinting at one set of runes. "These… weren't activated during the extraction. They're older than the Academy's current layout."
Kenjie frowned.
"Then what reactivated them?"
Jovhan scanned the chamber. "Not us."
Luna's gaze shifted slowly—back to the center. Back to where the tether had appeared. Something pulled at her instincts, a whisper of familiarity she couldn't explain.
She took one step forward.
"Wait," Kenjie grabbed her wrist. "We don't know what triggers next."
Luna pulled free gently, not recklessly. "He left something. I can feel it."
The Headmaster's gaze sharpened. "If you sense anything, be specific."
"It's not mana," Luna said quietly. "Not aura, either."
"Then what?"
Luna shook her head. "I don't know. But it's Sebastian."
Valric stepped forward, irritation threading into his voice—not anger at her, but at the situation.
"We can't rely on instinct alone. If something from the inside is—"
His sentence was cut short.
A sudden gust of wind swept through the chamber—cold, sharp, unnatural. It blew outward from the center of the room in a perfect ring, pushing dust and debris aside in a circular path.
A boundary.
A threshold.
Draco staggered back.
"What now—?"
The boundary ignited.
A thin halo of white light rose from the floor, rotating upward like a slow-moving sphere forming around an invisible core. The glow was faint, unstable, flickering like a dying ember—but it didn't fade.
It held.
Kenjie raised his guard again. "Headmaster—"
"I know," the Headmaster murmured, eyes narrowing. "This… is a residual field."
Jovhan's expression hardened. "Residual? From what?"
The Headmaster took a deep breath.
"…From a consciousness event."
Valric's jaw clenched. "Meaning?"
"Meaning someone—or something—left a psychic imprint."
Luna's breath stilled.
"It's him."
Draco shook his head. "Impossible. Consciousness imprints require deliberate separation. He was unconscious."
The Headmaster gave him a look.
"Exactly. Which is why this makes no sense."
The halo finished forming, hovering like a glass sphere carved from sunlight, humming quietly as if containing a thousand faint, overlapping heartbeats. The sound was nearly silent—felt more than heard.
Then something appeared inside it.
A ripple.
A distortion.
And finally—a memory.
Projected like a mirage in the center of the sphere.
Luna stepped closer, breath catching in her throat.
"Is that…?"
A silhouette.
A human form.
Bent, wounded, struggling to rise.
Sebastian.
Not physically—but a mental echo of him.
The projection flickered again, stabilizing just long enough for everyone to see him hunched over, clutching his arm, his breathing ragged. He looked older by seconds—older by pain. Sweat matted his hair to his forehead.
He whispered something.
The chamber leaned in.
Straining.
Reaching.
Trying to hear.
The echo strengthened for a heartbeat—
"…not… alone…"
The room froze.
Luna's heart pounded violently in her chest.
Sebastian glanced up in the projection—eyes dim, but burning from within, like embers refusing to die. His mouth moved again, sound clearer this time:
"…don't… follow…"
Jovhan recoiled. "Follow? Follow where?!"
Kenjie stepped closer instinctively. "Sebastian! If you can hear anything—!"
But the projection didn't respond.
It wasn't interacting.
It wasn't aware.
It was a recording of a moment that happened somewhere else. Somewhere inward. Somewhere unreachable.
Sebastian looked over his shoulder—eyes widening in terror.
White noise drowned the projection.
For a moment, the halo struggled to hold shape.
Then—
A shadow moved behind him.
Impossible in form.
Impossible in shape.
Impossible even to define—like the idea of a figure, not the figure itself.
The echo shook violently. The chamber trembled under a pressure no one could explain. Arcturus flinched back.
"What… is that thing?"
Draco's voice cracked.
"That's not a Gate entity. That's… something else."
The Headmaster stepped forward, aura flaring, not in aggression—but in instinctive defense.
"This is no longer a residual field," he said darkly. "This is an intrusion."
The projection surged.
Sebastian turned his head, and for a brief, horrifying second, his eyes met the room.
Everyone stopped breathing.
Of course, the projection wasn't truly looking at them.
But the synchronicity of that moment—
the alignment of gaze, pain, and warning—
felt like a message dragged across dimensions.
Sebastian's lips parted.
"Don't… let it…"
Static.
Light ruptured.
The shadow lunged toward the projection—
and the halo shattered.
Not loudly.
Not violently.
Just… silently.
Like a bubble touched by wind.
The chamber dimmed.
Luna reached out instinctively, catching only air.
"…Sebastian…"
No answer.
Only dust settling.
Only silence returning.
Kenjie exhaled shakily. "What did that mean?"
Jovhan's voice was hoarse. "Don't let it what? Don't let it in? Don't let it out? Don't let it reach him?"
Draco rubbed his temples, trembling.
"We need to inform the Council. Immediately."
Valric shook his head. "No. Not until we understand this. The Council will escalate."
The Headmaster finally turned around.
His expression was no longer exhausted.
It was resolute.
Cold.
Awakened.
"We are not involving the Council."
His voice cut through the silence. "Not yet."
Everyone stared.
"Sebastian is in a dimensional core," the Headmaster continued. "Whatever he is facing is beyond anything we can predict. If we alert the wrong people… they will treat him as a threat."
Luna stiffened.
"No."
The Headmaster met her eyes.
"Yes."
"He's not a threat," she said fiercely.
"He isn't," the Headmaster agreed. "But many will see him as one."
A heavy truth no one could deny.
Kenjie looked back at the ruined chamber, fists clenched.
"Then what do we do?"
The Headmaster turned toward the shattered floor where the tether once glowed.
"We prepare for when he reemerges."
Jovhan frowned. "You think he'll make it back?"
The Headmaster didn't hesitate.
"I think he's fighting to."
Valric stepped closer. "And if he fails?"
The Headmaster's jaw tightened.
"Then we will feel the consequences long before we see them."
Luna swallowed hard.
Her voice came out small—but steady.
"Sebastian… hold on."
And somewhere, buried in a realm no one could reach—
a realm of fractured memories, impossible light, and encroaching darkness—
a single heartbeat pulsed in answer.
Weak.
Faint.
Fighting.
Alive.
For now.