The world stirred, quietly.
The dawn was too quiet—no wind, no birds, only the soft hum of a sky piecing itself together. In the Sacred Academy's courtyard, flowers bloomed in the cracks of shattered marble. The air shimmered like a mirage, thick with fragments of memory that refused to settle.
Ciel ran through the courtyard barefoot, her silver anklet clinking against the uneven stones. She stopped at the fountain, where water rose upward, spiraling in slow motion before falling back in perfect rhythm.
"It's… alive again," she whispered.
The academy's towers were whole—but different. Their walls gleamed faintly gold, as if dipped in sunlight. The banners bore no crest of the Seers or the Crown now, only a circle split by two symbols: a broken crown and a blooming lily.
No one knew what it meant. But everyone felt it.
Something—or someone—had rewritten the law of existence.
Inside the restored Hall, the instructors gathered, the air still trembling with unstable mana.
Master Soren: "No divine energy signature remains. The Seers' bonds have dissolved."
Instructor Vale: "Then who's maintaining equilibrium?"
Soren (grim): "No one. Or perhaps—someone we can't comprehend."
A new map of elemental flow projected onto the table. The five elements—Earth, Fire, Water, Wind, and Aether—no longer existed in separate streams. They intertwined like threads of a single tapestry, orbiting a center point that pulsed faintly gold.
Instructor Vale: "A center that bleeds light. The system is alive."
Soren: "Alive—and aware."
He looked up toward the newly formed sun outside, its light flickering like a heartbeat.