The academy's central tower hummed with life.
Runes along its outer walls glowed like veins, feeding power into the giant sphere at its crown—the Synchronization Core, a relic older than the city itself.
It was here that the final test of Phase Three would begin.
Students filed into the hall in silence.
Unlike the crowded plaza from the day before, this place was quiet, sacred even.
The floor was glass, beneath which flowed a river of pale blue light. Every step made the air vibrate faintly.
Stark took his seat near the edge, eyes scanning the rows of glowing chairs that faced the core chamber.
He could feel dozens of eyes drifting his way.
Whispers again—soft, but constant.
"That's the one whose spirit evolved yesterday."
"He's dangerous."
"The instructors are watching him."
He ignored them and focused on the massive crystal sphere at the center of the hall.
That was the interface.
Once linked, every candidate would fall into a deep soul state where they would confront their Spirit Origin—a mental landscape shaped by their bond.
[System Notice]
Mission Update: Path to the Academy — Final Phase in Progress
Objective: Stabilize Spirit Link in Synchronization Realm
Time Limit: Unrestricted
Warning: Excessive Soul Output Detected in Prior Tests — Proceed with Caution
The instructor, an older woman with silver eyes, stepped forward. Her voice carried effortlessly.
"Candidates. The Mental Synchronization Trial measures the foundation of your bond with the System itself. You will enter your own soul space.
If you cannot face what waits there, the link will break… and you will fail."
A faint murmur passed through the hall. Someone swallowed audibly.
"You will see visions," the instructor continued. "Echoes of your past. Shadows of your spirit. Remember this—what you fight inside is still you."
She raised a hand. The crystal sphere brightened.
[Spirit Network: Deep Link Protocol Active.]
All Candidates—Synchronize.
The world folded.
Light poured from the ceiling, flooding the hall until everything became white sound and pressure.
Stark felt his body dissolve, weightless, slipping between layers of thought and memory.
Then, silence.
He opened his eyes—and found himself standing in an endless plain of glass.
Above him hung a shattered moon. Beneath his feet, reflections moved out of sync with his body.
[Location: Personal Synchronization Realm]
[Stability: 73%]
[Spirit Link: Active]
The Wraith—no, the Ash Phantom—appeared beside him, its form clearer than ever. Its blue fire flickered calmly.
"We are inside your mind," it said. "Here, thought shapes reality."
He nodded slowly. "Then this is what the test measures."
"Yes. Control… or collapse."
A faint rumble rolled across the horizon.
Cracks formed underfoot, glowing with red light.
Shadows began to rise—humanoid outlines, empty, echoing voices that weren't real.
"You shouldn't exist."
"A Summoner is forbidden."
"The dead do not serve the living."
Each whisper felt like a hand pressing against his chest.
He aimed the Eclipse Soulgun, firing once.
Blue light shattered the nearest shadow, but two more appeared in its place.
"Figures," he muttered. "Even my imagination wants me dead."
"They are fragments of doubt," the Ash Phantom said. "Feed on them."
He steadied his breath and began to shoot rhythmically.
Each blast tore the shadows apart, turning them to smoke that his spirit absorbed.
The cracks closed little by little; the red light dimmed.
[Synchronization Stability +5%]
[Soul Pressure Reduced]
[Mental Integrity: Maintained]
But then the air changed.
The shadows stilled, as if something larger had drawn their attention.
A low, rhythmic pulse shook the glass plain.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Every beat was heavy enough to bend the air.
Stark frowned. "What is that?"
The Ash Phantom didn't answer. Its blue flame flickered wildly, as if trying to retreat.
"That… is not part of you."
The sky fractured.
From beyond the shattered moon, a darkness deeper than space itself leaked into the realm—thick, oily, alive.
Whispers flooded in, not words but feelings: hunger, grief, endless patience.
[Unknown Entity Detected]
Analyzing Source…
Error: Outside System Parameters
Classification: [???]
Stark felt his knees weaken. The darkness moved like liquid smoke, coiling until it took shape—an outline of a man, taller than any tower, faceless except for two burning circles where eyes should have been.
The air smelled of ash and thunder.
The voice that followed wasn't sound; it was vibration through his bones.
"At last… a Summoner awakens."
Every instinct screamed to break the link.
He tried to pull away, but the ground held him fast.
[Spirit Link Overload Detected]
[Soul Integrity Dropping — 94% → 88%]
"Who are you?" he managed to choke out.
"I am what your Network buried."
"The first command and the last curse."
The thing leaned closer; its heatless light burned through him.
For a heartbeat he saw flashes—cities on fire, rivers of blue souls flowing skyward, a throne made of shattered orbs.
The Ash Phantom threw itself between them, chains of light whipping outward.
"Back!" it roared, voice breaking. "You are not welcome here!"
The darkness smiled—he felt it rather than saw it.
"Still defiant. Good."
"Tell your master… the Calamity waits."
Then the presence vanished.
The world snapped, and the glass plain shattered beneath him.
He fell through endless light.
[Emergency Stabilization Protocol Engaged.]
[Mental Link Severed — Reconstructing Surface Mind.]
[Warning: Residual Signature Detected — Classification: Calamity Echo.]
The voice faded. The fall slowed.
He landed gently on what felt like air.
The Ash Phantom hovered nearby, its flames dimmed. "It saw you," it whispered. "And now others will feel its mark."
Before Stark could reply, the world blurred again.
He opened his eyes to see the crystal chamber around him, faint light still pulsing from the Synchronization Core.
Instructors moved frantically, checking consoles, murmuring.
"Subject Stark—abnormal output!"
"Core readings spiked beyond limit for three seconds."
"Is he stable?"
He blinked, breath coming shallow but steady.
The instructor with silver eyes leaned over him, face unreadable.
"Candidate Stark. You disconnected suddenly. What did you see?"
He hesitated. The memory of the dark figure pressed against his thoughts like a brand.
"…Nothing," he said finally. "Just a shadow."
Her gaze lingered a moment longer, then she nodded slowly.
"Rest. You've passed."
[System Notice]
Phase Three Complete.
Candidate Stark — Status: Stable
Synchronization Rate: 72%
New Trait Unlocked: Soul Resistance (Lv 1)
Warning: Unknown residual signature bound to Spirit Link. Monitoring recommended.
As the other candidates woke one by one, Stark sat quietly at the edge of the chamber, flexing his fingers.
The faint black pattern now winding up his wrist hadn't been there before—thin lines like burnt glass, glowing faintly when he breathed.
The Ash Phantom's voice brushed his mind.
"You carry its mark. Do not show it."
He tugged his sleeve down. "I know."
Across the hall, Aiden Crest watched him from his seat. The spear-wielder's eyes narrowed.
"So the rumors were true," Aiden murmured. "He's not ordinary at all."
The System screens flickered overhead, listing final results.
1. Aiden Crest — Synchronization 76%
2. Stark — Synchronization 72%
3. Lira Vane — Synchronization 61%
Cheers rose around them, but Stark barely heard.
Inside his mind, the echo of that impossible voice still lingered—low, distant, waiting.
"The Calamity waits…"
He clenched his fist, forcing the trembling in his hand to stop.
If the Calamity truly existed, then his awakening wasn't coincidence.
The Spirit Network hadn't chosen him by chance—it had chosen him as a key.
[System Notice]
Mission Progress: 100% — Phase Three Complete
New Mission Unlocked: Hidden Chain — Echo of the Calamity
Objective: Investigate the origin of the mark.
Restriction: Do not reveal Class [Spirit Summoner].
The hall lights dimmed, signaling the end of the trials.
Candidates filed out toward their new dormitories, laughter echoing through the halls.
But Stark stayed seated for a moment longer, staring at his reflection in the crystal floor.
The reflection looked back—
and for just an instant, the eyes staring from it weren't blue.
They burned the same deep, hollow white as the thing behind the shattered moon.