The room around Lyra dimmed as the projection array activated, the circular platform beneath her feet humming with low, steady resonance. Thin lines of light rose like threads from the floor, weaving themselves upward until four translucent figures materialized around her. They sharpened into clarity one by one—Eryndor Vale of the Frozen Heart Guild, Seraphine Lysar of Radiant Dawn, Kael Dorn of Titan's Fist, and Thalen Rynn of Stormveil.
They stood in a wide ring of flickering light, as if five minds were pulled together inside one shared heartbeat. The world outside the chamber blurred away, leaving only them, the weight of responsibility, and the knowledge that five lives had been lost only hours ago. Even through projection, the air felt heavier than usual.
Lyra raised her chin first. "Thank you for connecting so quickly. We have a situation."
Eryndor spoke before anyone else. He always did. His voice came cool, composed, each word precise. "Amanda's report was transmitted to us. I assume the three survivors have been debriefed further?"
"Yes," Lyra said, arms crossed. "Amanda, Brandon, and Celis all gave the same account. The rift behaved normally until the boss appeared. No environmental anomalies, no spikes we could detect from our side. Just… the monster."
Kael's silhouette shifted slightly, his massive frame folding its arms. "You're saying the boss was the anomaly."
Lyra nodded. "Intelligence beyond anything encountered in a Standard-Class rift. It spoke. It reasoned. It analyzed them mid-combat. It predicted their movements. It adjusted. It hunted." She let out a slow breath, remembering the trembling in Amanda's voice as she recounted the escape. "And it killed five of ours before they could regroup."
Seraphine lowered her gaze. Even as a projection, she radiated gentleness touched by grief. "Five young Awakened… in a rift classified far below that threat level. This alone warrants reclassification."
"But the bigger concern," Thalen cut in, lightning-crisp as always, "is why it was that strong in the first place. Did it mutate? Was it influenced by something deeper? Or did we misjudge the entire rift from the beginning?"
Eryndor's gaze swept to Lyra. "You were the first one they came to. What is your impression?"
Lyra clasped her hands behind her back. "My impression is that none of our current safety structures can handle something like this if it happens again."
Silence followed—the kind of silence where everyone shared the same grim thought: they had been lucky this time. The survivors had made it out. Barely.
Lyra continued. "There is also… one detail from the monster's final words."
Seraphine looked up, brows knitting. "You said the demon spoke something strange as it died?"
"Yes." Lyra exhaled. "It mentioned 'He will come' and a 'her.' As if it feared someone specific, something that terrified it and as if something greater was coming towards us."
Kael frowned deeply. "Monsters raving nonsense is nothing new."
"True," Thalen said, "but this wasn't nonsense. Amanda said the creature stopped fighting for a moment. That it looked around as if searching. That it hesitated."
Eryndor's sharp mind never wasted time. "You said it also reacted violently to the word… Ether?"
Lyra nodded once. "It did. But none of us—none of humanity—knows what Ether actually is. We've never catalogued it. We've never measured it. We don't even know if the monster was referring to a real thing or using a term we can't translate."
Seraphine lifted a hand, thoughtful. "Demons often have their own internal classifications. Their own fears. Their own myths, even. Whatever this 'her' is, it may have nothing to do with us."
Lyra kept her face neutral, though her thoughts spun quietly. She remembered Ael's Awakening. How the air had shifted when he called forth an energy unlike anything she had ever seen. How it felt raw and ancient, like something the world itself held its breath for. But the demon hadn't said "him."
It had said "her."
That alone was enough for her to push the thought aside—for now.
Kael's deep voice grounded the room again. "Speculation won't help us unless we understand the threat. Right now, we don't. What we do know is that our current rift protocols failed."
At that, Lyra straightened. This was the heart of the meeting.
"We need to change how rift teams are built," she said firmly. "Immediately."
All four leaders turned toward her projection, listening.
"Up until now," Lyra continued, "a rift team required only one member ranked above the rift's classification. That's not enough anymore. Not if anomalies like this are possible."
Eryndor nodded once. "Agreed."
"I propose we require at least two higher-ranked members per team for all mid-tier rifts," Lyra said. "And for stronger rifts—anything High-Class or above—at least half the team must be one rank higher."
Thalen let out a low whistle. "That's going to strain our manpower."
"Better strained than dead," Kael rumbled.
Seraphine's projection flickered softly as she folded her hands. "We'll need to restructure deployments across all regions. And we'll need to communicate these changes carefully, so we don't feed fear."
Lyra met her eyes through light. "Exactly. We tell the public only what they must know: a rift behaved abnormally, and we're strengthening safety protocols. Nothing about the demon's last words. Nothing about its intelligence. No speculation."
Eryndor added, "We also need full data from all rift-monitoring stations. Even minor abnormalities must be reported immediately."
"And guilds should share more of their internal readings," Seraphine said gently. "Not hide information out of pride. If these anomalies spread, we won't survive a fragmented response."
Lyra felt a spark of resolve burn beneath her stern composure. "Then from today forward, no guild acts alone."
Kael nodded slowly. "The five of us move as one."
Thalen smirked faintly. "Look at that—unity. Feels strange."
Even Eryndor's expression softened, if only by a fraction.
Lyra stepped forward, into the center of the ring. "We're standing at the edge of something we don't understand yet. But we adapt. We reinforce. We protect our people. And until we know what caused this… we assume it can happen again."
The leaders, one by one, gave their silent agreement. A shared vow carried through the lines of light connecting them.
The projections began to dissolve—Eryndor fading like mist over ice, Seraphine like soft dawn light, Kael like a shadow grounding itself back into the earth, Thalen like lightning cutting away into distant sky.
When the last silhouette vanished, the room fell still.
Lyra remained alone, hands braced on the projection console, breath steady but tight. Her mind returned unbidden to Amanda's trembling recollection—the monster stopping mid-battle, its gaze searching for someone who wasn't there.
Her… the demon had growled.
Lyra closed her eyes. Ael's strange awakening flickered through her memory like fire catching on dry leaves. Ether—whatever that was—had answered him that day. Something ancient. Something powerful.
But the demon said her.
Lyra exhaled long and slow.
"Then it wasn't him," she whispered to herself, convincing herself as much as stating it. "It can't be."
Yet the doubt lingered at the edges of her mind, a faint spark she refused to let grow.
Not yet.
Not until she understood what they were truly facing.