The world cracked like glass.
That was Caelum's first sensation as he was yanked out of the collapsing Threshold and hurled back toward the waking realm. Light and sound tore past him in spiraling currents until his boots slammed into stone.
Not courtyard stone.
Not Celestara Spire.
Somewhere else.
Somewhere colder.
He staggered, catching his breath as reality settled. The air around him shimmered with a violet haze, the afterimage of the Watchers' arrival. He could still feel their presence hanging like a blade against his spine.
A voice broke through the static.
"Caelum!"
Lyra reached him first, hands grabbing his forearm, her flames dimmed but burning steady. Astra wasn't far behind, crackling with barely-contained electricity. Seraphine, Elowen, and Aradia formed a protective half-circle.
All staring upward.
Caelum followed their gaze.
The Watchers had descended from the ramparts and now stood in a perfect ring enclosing them. Seven figures—towering, silent, violet-eyed sentinels—waiting.
The First Watcher stepped forward.
"Your ascension has been confirmed. Now begins the Judgment."
Astra whispered, "Fantastic. Absolutely fantastic. We barely survived one cosmic test, so let's just do another."
Lyra didn't smile. "This isn't a test. This is a threat."
Caelum agreed.
But the Crown hummed softly above him, unseen except for faint glimmers of light around his temples.
"What does the Judgment entail?" Caelum asked.
The Watcher raised an armored hand. "Demonstrate control over what you were granted. Show that the Crown chose wisely."
"And if it didn't?" Seraphine asked coolly.
The answer came without hesitation.
"The unworthy are removed."
Elowen swallowed. "Removed as in… relocated?"
"No."
Before anyone could respond, the courtyard melted away.
The world shifted.
Caelum found himself standing in a vast circular arena made of starlit stone. The others stood at his back. Above them stretched a sky of swirling constellations—unnaturally close, as if pressing down.
This wasn't Earth.
This wasn't the Spire.
This was a construct—a place made of judgment itself.
"Trial One," the First Watcher intoned. "Demonstrate command of Starfire."
A figure materialized in front of Caelum.
His breath caught.
It was… him.
An echo of Caelum Vale, identical in face and frame, but with eyes of pitiless violet. Starfire crackled across its arms, but darker—tainted.
Lyra stepped forward instinctively. "We fight together."
"No," the Watcher thundered. "This trial tests the bearer's mastery alone."
A barrier of shimmering force flared around Caelum, sealing him into the arena while his friends were pushed back.
Astra slammed her fist into the barrier. "Seriously?! We just got him back!"
Inside the enclosed space, Caelum's duplicate raised a hand. Starfire ignited—violent, unstable.
Caelum barely dodged the first burst.
The blast sent a shockwave through the arena, cracking the stone beneath his boots.
Lyra slammed both fists against the barrier. "Caelum! Focus!"
He rolled to the side as another strike seared past him.
The copy moved with perfect precision—his own technique reflected back at him, but sharper, colder.
He lifted his hand.
Starfire answered.
But this time it didn't explode outward. It didn't consume everything in a wild burst.
It flowed.
Controlled.
Guided.
The Crown pulsed, harmonizing with his heartbeat.
He thrust his palm forward, sending a controlled beam of golden energy that knocked the echo backwards.
The false Caelum recovered instantly, striking with a blade of violet flame.
Caelum countered, calling the Etherblade into existence with a thought. Golden fire clashed against corrupted starlight.
Sparks rained.
For a moment, they were locked—neither gaining ground.
Then Caelum felt it.
The echo's energy was wild. Forced. Imitated.
His wasn't.
His Starfire answered him.
Not because he commanded it.
Because he understood it.
He let the flame settle, then expanded it in a controlled pulse that pushed the duplicate off balance. With a swift twist of his wrist, Caelum severed the tainted Starfire binding the echo together.
The copy dissolved into particles of violet dust.
Silence fell.
Then the barrier dropped.
Lyra rushed in first, grabbing his face between her hands. "You're okay?"
He nodded. "Yeah. Trial One passed."
Astra folded her arms. "Well, that's one out of… how many?"
"Three," the Watcher said. "Trial Two begins."
The arena floor shifted again.
This time, it formed into a labyrinth of floating platforms hanging over a void of swirling cosmic smoke.
Seraphine inhaled sharply. "A test of strategy."
But the Watcher shook its head.
"A test of burden."
One by one, glowing chains materialized—anchoring themselves around Caelum's arms, shoulders, and chest.
Lyra lunged forward. "Stop! He just fought!"
"This trial measures the weight of responsibility," the Watcher replied. "The Crown magnifies the soul. If the soul collapses, so does the bearer."
Caelum gritted his teeth as the chains tightened.
Astra whispered, "This looks bad."
It was.
The platforms beneath him shifted—and he stumbled as the first chain pulsed with a crushing weight.
Then he heard voices.
Lyra's.
Elowen's.
Astra's.
Seraphine's.
Aradia's.
All echoing memories of his fears.
"You'll fail us."
"You can't protect everyone."
"You were never meant for this."
He took a step.
The platform wobbled.
Another chain locked into place.
Caelum inhaled slowly, lifting his head.
"I know I can't protect everyone."
The chains loosened.
"But I'll protect who I can."
Another step.
The weight shifted—lighter this time.
"I won't carry everything alone."
Another chain broke entirely.
"And I won't pretend I have to."
He reached the center of the labyrinth.
The chains shattered.
The Watcher bowed its head. "Trial Two passed."
Lyra exhaled shakily. "Please tell me Trial Three is something normal, like arm-wrestling a god."
But Caelum had already turned.
Because the arena was gone.
Replaced by darkness.
Pure, endless darkness.
The Watcher spoke from everywhere at once.
"Trial Three. The Final Measure."
A shape moved inside the void.
Huge.
Awake.
Ancient.
Aradia's eyes widened in terror. "No… no, that can't be—"
A deep, resonant voice rumbled from the dark.
"Starfire Bearer."
Lyra grabbed Caelum's wrist. "Don't go."
He squeezed her hand, steady. "I have to."
A massive eye opened in the void—violet, endless, watching.
The Harbinger.
"The Crown has risen," it said. "And now… so shall I."
The Watchers didn't interfere.
They simply watched.
Judgment had begun.
Caelum stepped forward.
The darkness swallowed him.
And the final trial began.