They came at first light.
Not charging.
Not shouting.
Marching.
Lines of Academy enforcers advanced across the ruined battlefield in perfect formation, their armor etched with sigils that drank in residual energy. Above them hovered three Divine Sentinels, faceless constructs of light and stone, their presence suppressing the fragments inside me like a heavy hand pressed against my chest.
My wings faded completely.
Not by choice.
The fragments recoiled, angry but restrained.
Lysara stiffened beside me. "Suppression fields," she whispered. "They're designed to subdue demi-gods."
"Good to know I rate that high," I muttered.
The fallen deity had already retreated, dissolving into shadow the moment the sentinels appeared. Coward—or survivor. I wasn't sure which.
At the head of the formation walked Archon Valthis, the Academy's highest arbiter. Tall, silver-eyed, ageless. His gaze passed over the shattered field, then settled on me.
"So," he said calmly, "you are the source."
"I have a name," I replied.
"Yes," Valthis said. "And far too many titles already."
The sentinels formed a triangle around me. Runes flared. Pain stabbed through my skull as the fragments screamed, their voices muffled, distorted.
Lysara stepped forward. "He saved this field. He resisted a Watcher. He should be commended, not restrained!"
Valthis looked at her gently. "Child, the fact that he resisted is exactly the problem."
My jaw tightened. "Then say it. You're afraid."
A murmur rippled through the enforcers.
Valthis didn't deny it.
"We are cautious," he said. "Because fear keeps civilizations alive."
He raised a hand. The sentinels' eyes ignited.
"Eryndor, bearer of an unstable fracture, you are hereby placed under Divine Review."
The words hit harder than any blow.
Lysara's breath caught. "Divine Review means—"
"Isolation," Valthis finished. "Observation. And if necessary…"
He didn't finish the sentence.
He didn't need to.
The fragments thrashed inside me, rage bleeding through suppression. I met Valthis's gaze, refusing to bow.
"And if I refuse?"
Valthis's expression finally changed—just a fraction.
"Then the Watcher will not be the one to end you."
Silence.
The horn sounded again, closer this time.
Valthis extended his hand.
"Come willingly," he said. "Or be taken."
I looked at Lysara. Her eyes were burning, wet with fury and fear.
I looked at the sentinels.
At the runes.
At the chains of light forming in the air.
And deep within me, beneath suppression and pain, the fragments whispered together—quiet, unified, dangerous.
This choice defines the path.
I took a breath.
And made my decision.