Dawn never arrived.
Instead, the Academy awoke to a suffocating red haze pulsing through the sky as if the sun itself had been imprisoned. Alarm sirens wailed across the campus in slow, rhythmic intervals—measured, oppressive, designed to unsettle even the strongest Beastman instincts. The barrier lines along the walls crackled with lit sigils, locking into place with a deep, resonant hum that vibrated the air.
Sandra felt the shift before she even opened her eyes.
Her body reacted instantly—heartbeat accelerating, senses widening to absorb every tremor in the air. She inhaled sharply and caught dozens of scents at once: fear, adrenaline, the metallic tang of activated runes, the faint musk of Beastman transformations happening all across the dorms.
Then she sensed them—Tristan and Sebastian—long before she heard them.
Her pulse steadied.
They were standing guard outside her door.
She stood from the bed, legs trembling slightly, still affected by the lingering aftershocks of the Primordial resonance. The System flickered faintly under her skin, but not painfully—more like a warning, or a countdown.
A sharp knock followed.
"Sandra? It's starting," Tristan said, voice firm, controlled, but heavy with the awareness of what the day meant.
She opened the door.
Tristan was already half-shifted—ears sharpened, canines visible, shoulders tense beneath his Academy uniform. His eyes scanned her instantly, assessing her condition with clinical precision.
Sebastian stood beside him, fully composed but emanating an aura so intense the hallway felt two degrees colder. His tail flicked once, betraying his agitation.
"You feel stable enough to move?" Sebastian asked, tone soft but edged.
Sandra nodded. "For now."
Tristan didn't look convinced, but he stepped back to give her space. "Stay between us at all times. No exceptions."
"What happened?" she asked, stepping out from the dorm.
Sebastian answered. "Officially? The Council declared a Level-Zero Lockdown after detecting 'external hostiles' on campus."
"And unofficially?" Sandra pressed.
Tristan's jaw flexed. "They locked down the Academy because of you."
The corridor shuddered, walls vibrating as the final barrier layer fell into place. Students clustered nervously near their rooms, whispers gathering in frantic waves. Sandra felt dozens of eyes on her as she passed—fear, curiosity, suspicion—none of them fully understanding the reason for the lockdown but sensing she was involved.
Her chest tightened.
Sebastian noticed the shift in her expression. "Don't internalize it. They don't know the truth."
"Exactly," Tristan added. "And the Council intends to keep it that way—for now."
They escorted her through the corridor, moving in perfect sync, their protective instincts rising every time someone got too close. The tension between them hummed like an electrical arc. Tristan kept scanning every shadow for threats; Sebastian monitored every scent change.
Sandra felt caught between their opposing energies—one blazing, one icy—but both anchored her.
They reached the central atrium where Lyra waited.
The transformation overnight was startling. The Academy's once-open courtyard had been overlaid with dozens of glowing geometric structures—barrier amplifiers, surveillance pillars, and war-grade detection nodes.
Lyra approached swiftly. "We don't have long. The Council is in emergency session, and the Null Fangs are already testing the outer perimeter."
Tristan's eyes narrowed. "That fast?"
"They were waiting for the lockdown," Lyra replied. "It confirms their intel was accurate."
Sebastian folded his arms. "Meaning someone inside is feeding them information."
Sandra's stomach knotted. "About me?"
Lyra hesitated. "Most likely. Or about the existence of a Primordial signal."
Sandra fought the rising wave of anxiety. Her senses were already fraying at the edges.
Tristan stepped closer. "You focus on controlling your pulse. We'll handle the rest."
Sebastian shot him a look—sharp, territorial.
Lyra cut between them before tension escalated. "Both of you, stand down. The resonance reacts to your emotional states."
Tristan exhaled slowly.
Sebastian clenched his jaw.
Sandra tried to keep her breathing steady, but the System pulsed harder.
PRIMORDIAL RESONANCE: INSTABILITY DETECTED
TRIAD PROXIMITY LEVEL: HIGH
COUNCIL PROBES: ACTIVE SCANNING
Lyra noticed the flicker of pain on Sandra's face. "We need to get her to the sub-chamber beneath the East Wing. The pre-awakening surge is accelerating."
Tristan reacted instantly. "How dangerous?"
Lyra answered bluntly. "If she loses control, all three of you could become targets."
Sebastian stepped closer to Sandra. "Targets of who?"
Lyra looked up toward the highest tower—the Council's tower—where faint silhouettes moved behind the tinted windows.
"Everyone," she said.
Sandra's chest tightened. "You mean the Council would—"
"Yes," Lyra said coldly. "If they confirm you are entering Stage Two, they will act. Quickly."
Tristan growled, a low, visceral sound. "If they try, they'll regret it."
Sebastian's voice dipped into a threatening register. "They are not touching her."
Lyra motioned sharply for silence. "We don't have time for challenges. Follow me."
They moved through the courtyard to the lower level, slipping behind the war barricades and skirting the halls guarded by elite Beastman sentries. Twice they had to stop as Council agents passed—tall figures in silver-gray cloaks, masks covering their faces, scanning devices glowing faintly.
Sandra felt each scan like ice against her skin.
Tristan pulled her close when one passed too near. His hand anchored her waist firmly, instinctively. Sebastian's body shifted forward, blocking her from view, shoulders widened in a defensive stance.
The agent paused.
Scented the air.
Sandra's pulse spiked.
Sebastian lowered his head slightly, posture predatory. Tristan's hand tightened.
After a long moment, the agent continued walking.
Only when he was gone did Sandra breathe again.
Lyra moved quickly. "They're refining their detection patterns. We need to hurry."
They entered the East Wing, slipping through an old maintenance door into a narrow downward staircase lit only by flickering blue runes. The deeper they went, the colder the air became. The ceiling dipped low, forcing Tristan and Sebastian to hunch slightly.
Sandra's fingers brushed the walls—cold, ancient, humming with dormant power.
Tristan kept glancing back at her. "How's your breathing?"
"Stable," she whispered, though her pulse said otherwise.
Sebastian moved closer. "Your scent is shifting. The resonance is climbing."
Sandra stiffened. "I can't control it."
"One step at a time," Tristan said gently. "You're doing better than you think."
Their voices grounded her.
Lyra finally stopped before a large circular vault door. "This is the Lockdown Chamber. Built for emergencies tied to unstable inheritances."
Sandra froze. "You mean it was built for people like me."
Lyra nodded. "For Primordials specifically."
Tristan's eyes narrowed. "How long has this been here?"
"Centuries."
"Hidden from every clan?" Sebastian asked.
"Yes. Because every clan feared what it might shelter."
Sandra's breath trembled. "And now it's sheltering me."
Lyra placed her hand on the ancient rune panel.
"Brace yourselves."
The vault door groaned open.
A surge of cold, shimmering air burst outward, wrapping around Sandra like a gravitational pull. The chamber inside pulsated with faint gold and white currents—energy flowing through engraved sigils on the ground, walls, and ceiling.
As soon as Sandra crossed the threshold, the chamber reacted.
The runes flared.
The air thickened.
The ground vibrated directly beneath her feet.
Tristan swore under his breath. "It recognizes her."
Sebastian stepped protectively at her side. "As what?"
Lyra's voice was soft. "As its heir."
Sandra's knees almost gave out again, but she forced herself upright.
"What do I do?" she whispered.
Lyra pointed to the center where the sigils formed a tight circle. "Stand there. Let the resonance sync."
Sandra stepped into the circle.
The moment she did, energy wrapped around her torso, coiling like warm, sentient threads. Her breath hitched. Her heartbeat accelerated.
Tristan moved forward instinctively. "Sandra—"
Lyra blocked him with an outstretched arm. "Touching her now could overload the resonance."
Sebastian's fists clenched. "Then how do we help her?"
Lyra looked at them. "You anchor her. Emotionally. Your connection is already entwined with her awakening."
Sandra gasped as the resonance surged.
The System ignited under her skin—
PRIMORDIAL RESONANCE: STABILIZATION INITIATED
TRIAD CONNECTION: ACTIVE
VITAL PARAMETERS: ESCALATING
COUNCIL PROBE: APPROACHING
Tristan leaned forward, voice steady, fierce, grounding. "Sandra, breathe with me. Slow inhale. Slow exhale."
Sebastian's voice joined his—lower, calmer, resonant. "You're not alone. We're right here."
Their voices overlapped, weaving into a strange harmony.
Sandra felt their presence like two powerful gravitational forces pulling her back from the brink.
The golden currents steadied.
Her pulse slowed.
Her vision cleared.
When she opened her eyes, the sigils around her glowed steadily—no longer chaotic.
Lyra exhaled. "She stabilized faster than any Primordial heir before her. The lineage recognizes the triad bond."
Sandra looked at her hands, still trembling faintly. "Does this mean… the second stage is fully active?"
"Almost," Lyra said. "But the next hours will be the real test."
Sebastian stepped forward cautiously. "What happens now?"
Lyra's expression darkened. "The Council is already sending a team to inspect the East Wing. If they find this chamber active… everything ends."
Tristan's voice hardened. "Then we hold this line."
Sandra swallowed, fear and determination mixing in equal measure. "What do we do?"
Lyra looked at all three of them.
"You prepare for the First Clash."
The chamber lights dimmed, as if the ancient stone itself sensed what was coming.
The Lockdown had begun.
And survival would not be guaranteed.