The capital did not celebrate.
It mourned.
Three days after the Apostle's descent, the sky still bore scars.
Faint golden fractures lingered across the heavens like cracks in porcelain. They no longer bled light—but they had not healed.
They would not.
People whispered about it in the markets.
"The sky broke."
"And he burned it."
"They say the villain killed an angel."
"No… he saved us."
Fear and reverence began intertwining.
Kael Atticus was no longer a rumor.
He was an event.
---
The Funeral
Cedric's coffin was simple.
Dark oak.
Unadorned.
He had requested that long ago in his service records.
"No medals," he once said. "If I die, I'd prefer silence."
The funeral was held in the lower gardens of the Atticus estate—what remained of it. The upper wings were still under reconstruction from the Apostle's first strike.
Kael stood alone before the coffin.
No horns.
No scales.
No shadow wings.
Just a young noble in black.
Darius stood several paces behind him, armor absent for once. A handful of knights attended quietly.
No clergy.
The High Clergy had refused to officiate.
"Association risk," they called it.
Kael said nothing.
He simply placed Cedric's white gloves atop the coffin.
"You disobeyed orders," Kael said softly.
His voice did not shake.
"You were supposed to evacuate."
A pause.
The dragon inside him stirred faintly.
Still weakened.
Still unstable.
"You were not part of the narrative," Kael continued. "You were not meant to die."
The wind shifted through the trees.
Leaves scattered.
Darius finally spoke quietly.
"He chose."
"Yes."
Kael closed his eyes briefly.
And for the first time since regaining his memories across cycles—
He felt guilt that was not strategic.
Not calculated.
Personal.
"If I had not forced evolution…"
The dragon responded gently.
— We would have died.
"I know."
That did not make it lighter.
The coffin was lowered.
Earth covered wood.
And silence claimed the garden.
As the last shovel of soil fell, Kael made a decision.
Not whispered.
Not declared.
Solid.
"This war will not be reactive," he said.
Darius looked at him.
"We take the sky next."
---
Political Fracture
The emergency council convened that evening in the partially repaired royal senate hall.
Nobles filled the chamber.
Clergy representatives stood to one side.
Military officials on the other.
The air was venomous.
"He invited divine wrath!"
"He destroyed an Apostle!"
"He endangered the capital!"
"He saved it!"
Arguments collided across marble walls.
Kael stood at the center platform, composed.
Darius stood beside him.
A statement in itself.
Lord Varell, one of the most influential nobles, slammed his cane against the floor.
"This 'deviant anchor'—as the entity called him—clearly provoked divine correction! We must surrender him to restore favor!"
Murmurs of agreement spread.
Kael did not flinch.
Darius stepped forward first.
"The Apostle did not negotiate."
Silence fell.
"It attempted city-wide erasure."
He turned slowly, gaze hard.
"If Lord Atticus had not intervened, you would not be arguing in this hall."
That quieted many.
But not all.
Archdeacon Melvar spoke coldly.
"The scriptures warn of false saviors."
Kael finally raised his head.
"And do they describe Apostles killing children?"
The Archdeacon stiffened.
Kael continued calmly.
"I did not summon it. I did not provoke it. I was its target."
"Because you are unnatural!" Varell spat.
Kael's eyes flickered faint gold for just a moment.
"Yes."
The chamber stilled.
"I am."
Whispers rippled outward.
He did not deny it.
He did not justify it.
"I am something the sky does not control," Kael said evenly. "That is why it sent an executioner."
Silence deepened.
Then he delivered the pivot.
"If you surrender me, the next Apostle will not ask permission."
That landed.
Fear shifted direction.
Darius seized the momentum.
"The Order will not detain Lord Atticus."
Gasps.
That was a public declaration.
The Archdeacon's face darkened.
"You defy the Clergy?"
"I protect the capital."
The divide was now official.
Not just cosmic.
Political.
---
Stabilization
That night, Kael locked himself inside the underground chamber beneath his estate.
The dragon core hovered before him.
Cracked.
Faint fractures ran along its surface where the spear had pierced through him.
He removed his gloves.
His palms were still lined with blackened scale-pattern scars.
Level Two had changed him.
Irreversibly.
The System appeared.
> Draconic Evolution: 27% Stable
Core Integrity: 68%
Risk of Corruption: Rising
Emotional Synchronization Required
Kael exhaled slowly.
"You nearly shattered."
— We nearly lost you.
He allowed himself a small, tired smile.
"You sound protective."
A low rumble echoed through his mind.
— I remember dying twelve times.
That silenced him.
Across previous cycles—
The dragon had died with him.
Each time.
He placed his hand over the core.
"I won't let it repeat."
The core pulsed weakly.
Synchronization required vulnerability.
That was the cost.
Not rage.
Not domination.
Understanding.
He closed his eyes.
Memories surfaced—
The first timeline where he summoned the dragon too late.
The battlefield soaked in ash.
The dragon collapsing beside his corpse.
The second timeline—where the Apostle erased them mid-bond.
The third—where he never attempted bonding at all.
Loneliness.
Repeated.
Cycle after cycle.
He inhaled slowly.
"I was afraid," he admitted quietly.
The dragon went still.
"I kept trying to solve it alone."
The core's cracks dimmed faintly.
— We fight together.
"Yes."
The fractures began knitting slowly.
Stability rising.
Not perfect.
But better.
He opened his eyes.
Golden irises lingered longer this time before fading.
Outside the chamber—
Footsteps echoed.
Soft.
Measured.
Not Darius.
Not a knight.
Kael did not turn.
"You can come out," he said calmly.
A young woman stepped into view.
Dark cloak.
Silver-thread insignia.
Eyes sharp with restrained calculation.
Kael recognized her.
Lady Seris Valmont.
Daughter of a minor house.
Publicly insignificant.
Privately—
Intelligent.
Dangerously so.
"You shouldn't be here," Kael said.
"I know," she replied.
She studied the hovering dragon core without visible fear.
"They sent the Apostle because of you."
"Yes."
"They will send worse."
"Yes."
A pause.
Then—
"There is someone feeding them information."
That made him look at her.
"Explain."
Seris stepped closer.
"The Apostle descended with precise target-lock. Not general anomaly detection. You were pinpointed."
Kael's gaze sharpened.
"You suspect internal surveillance."
"I know it."
Silence.
The dragon stirred uneasily.
Seris lowered her voice.
"There is a relic beneath the Cathedral."
Kael's expression did not change—but the air grew colder.
"Go on."
"It predates the current Clergy. A device used to measure narrative deviation."
He almost smiled.
"Of course there is."
"They've been monitoring you since the district incident."
That explained the escalation speed.
Seris' eyes held his steadily.
"I don't serve the Clergy."
"Who do you serve?"
A faint smirk curved her lips.
"Survival."
Honest.
Refreshing.
"Why tell me?"
"Because if the sky wins, we all lose."
Reasonable.
Strategic.
Useful.
Kael considered for several seconds.
"Can you access it?"
"Yes."
"Then we take it."
Her expression sharpened.
"You're declaring open war."
"No," Kael replied softly.
"I'm removing surveillance."
---
The Traitor Revealed
The following evening—
Kael, Darius, and Seris entered the Cathedral's understructure through restricted archives.
Darius had reluctantly agreed.
"If this is true," he said grimly, "the Clergy crossed into forbidden territory."
Beneath the marble foundations lay something older.
A chamber carved not by human hands.
At its center—
A suspended golden apparatus.
Spinning rings of light.
Threads extending upward into the fractured sky.
The dragon hissed inside Kael's mind.
— That's the eye.
Kael stepped forward.
The apparatus reacted instantly.
Sigils ignited.
Energy surged.
A projection formed above it.
The same silver-haired Observer woman from before.
"You found it quickly," she said pleasantly.
Darius' hand went to his sword.
Seris stepped back.
Kael remained calm.
"You left it accessible."
"Of course. Conflict accelerates growth."
Her eyes shimmered faintly.
"You are progressing beyond projection."
"And you're nervous," Kael replied.
She smiled slightly.
"Curious."
The apparatus pulsed brighter.
Kael felt it locking onto his dragon core.
Attempting recalibration.
Erasure attempt rebooting.
"Destroy it," Darius said.
Kael nodded.
He extended his hand.
Shadow and flame intertwined around his arm.
The apparatus resisted.
Golden threads lashed outward.
Seris dodged barely in time.
Darius severed several strands with radiant strikes.
Kael stepped into the center.
Ignoring the burning sensation as the machine tried rewriting him.
And drove his draconic claw straight through the core of the relic.
Light exploded outward.
The chamber shook violently.
The projection flickered.
"You've chosen escalation," the Observer said quietly.
Kael twisted his hand.
"Good."
The relic shattered.
Golden threads snapped across the capital like severed nerves.
Above—
One of the fractures in the sky widened suddenly.
Not sealed.
Opened.
Darkness—not light—moved beyond it.
The Observer's smile faded.
"That wasn't supposed to happen."
Kael looked up slowly.
"What did you break?"
She did not answer.
Her projection vanished.
The chamber fell silent.
Darius stared upward.
The fracture was expanding.
Not correction.
Something older.
The dragon trembled.
— I know that presence.
Kael's eyes narrowed.
"From which cycle?"
— Before the first.
A low vibration began rolling through the capital.
Deep.
Ancient.
And from far beyond the fractured heavens—
A second heartbeat answered.
Stronger than the first dragon had ever been.
Not erased.
Not corrected.
Imprisoned.
Until now.
Kael exhaled slowly.
"We didn't just remove surveillance."
Darius swallowed.
"What did we release?"
Kael's golden eyes reflected the widening crack in the sky.
"A rival."
The fracture split wider.
And something colossal shifted behind it.
—