The Hall grew so quiet that Orion could hear his own heartbeat—slow, heavy, echoing like a drum in a deep cavern.
The silver-eyed Elder circled him slowly, studying every breath, every flicker of energy around his body. The other Elders watched with tight jaws and uneasy eyes.
Liora stepped closer to Orion, her hand brushing his arm—an instinctive gesture of support.He didn't move away.
Finally, the silver-eyed Elder stopped in front of them.
"The prophecy was spoken twelve thousand years ago," he said. "By the First Seer, who glimpsed a future drenched in both hope and ruin."
He raised his hand.
A crystal spire floated toward him, glowing brighter as if awakened.
The Elder tapped it with two fingers.
The crystal lit up—and a voice spilled out. Not loud. Not soft.
Just… ancient.
"When a soul falls twice,Yet rises in a body not its own…A king without a crown shall return.He will walk between worlds.He will shake the heavens.He will wake what sleeps.He will break what stands."
The Hall vibrated faintly with each line, as though acknowledging a truth buried too long.
Orion's chest tightened.
A soul falls twice.Was that him?Was he truly someone important—or just someone cursed?
Liora looked at him with wide eyes."Orion… this prophecy—it can't be talking about you. It's too big. Too heavy."
But the smoky-haired Elder shook her head."No. His soul signature… the way the Trials reacted to him… it aligns."
The youngest Elder—a man with gentle features but sharp perception—stepped forward.
"I do not believe the prophecy claims the Starfallen King will be a destroyer," he said softly. "A prophecy is not a chain. It is a window. How you step through it decides the world you shape."
He looked directly at Orion.
"What do you feel, child? When you look inside yourself… is there darkness? Or a wish to protect?"
Orion hesitated.
His mind flickered with memories—not of this world, but of the one before.Simple days. Hard days. Days where he failed people he cared about.
Shame.Regret.Love.Fear.
He closed his eyes.Then spoke quietly:
"I don't want to break anything."
The Elders watched him closely.
"I just… want to live. To try again. To not waste the second chance I got."
The gentle Elder smiled faintly.
"Then perhaps," he said, "the prophecy has been misunderstood for millennia."
The silver-eyed Elder wasn't convinced.
He stepped forward, voice firm and cold:
"Words are easy. Power is not."
He pointed to the far end of the Hall.
A door stood there—towering, sealed with seven glowing locks.
"Beyond that gate lies the Second Trial.Knowledge. Judgment. Truth."
Orion felt a chill.
"What kind of truth?"
The Elder replied:
"The truth about you."
Liora grabbed Orion's hand without thinking.
"Wait! He just finished a Trial. He needs to rest—"
But Orion squeezed her hand gently and stepped forward.
His voice was quiet… but steady.
"No. I want to know. If I'm dangerous… if I'm something this world fears… I need to face it."
Liora searched his face—worry, pride, fear all tangled together.
"…Then I'll go with you."
The silver-eyed Elder shook his head.
"Only he may enter. The Trial tests the soul. A second presence would shatter it."
Liora's breath caught.
The Elders raised their staffs.
The seven locks on the giant door glowed brighter.
Orion stared at the door—the unknown behind it, the weight of destiny pressing on his shoulders, the uncertainty clawing inside him.
But he didn't step back.
He stepped forward.
And the First Lock opened with a sound like a heartbeat.
THUM.