The late afternoon painted the sky in shades of amber and gray.
On the jump platform, the energy of the Portal of the Stone pulsed softly, synchronized with the readings from Marco Norte.
It was time.
—
Kael adjusted the communicator.
Patricia, from the Command Base, confirmed:
— Temporal coordination aligned.
— Destination: Marco Norte.
— No anomalies detected on the jump vector.
Kael nodded.
The two teams — Alpha and Beta — formed the jump circle around him.
Each witch carried light weaponry, discreet attire, and calibrated communicators.
The jump began.
—
The passage was steady.
Seconds later, the solid, cold ground of Marco Norte appeared beneath their feet.
The landscape was familiar but no less striking.
The ancient stones, covered in moss and symbols that predated the League, formed a circle in the terrain.
At the center stood the Marco — a vertical structure of dark stone, its carvings seeming alive under the fading evening light.
Otrho awaited them near the edge of the circle.
—
— You came quickly — he noted with a brief nod.
Kael approached.
— What do we have?
Otrho pointed to the center of the Marco.
There, the same symbol detected in Brussels pulsed, but now... it was changing shape.
As if someone — or something — was trying to communicate.
—
Amina and Samantha began their scans.
— The energy oscillations are increasing — said Amina.
— It doesn't seem like an invasion. This isn't brute force — added Samantha. — It's like... a code. A request.
Helena maintained perimeter vigilance.
Nikita and Camila monitored escape routes in case a quick withdrawal became necessary.
—
Kael approached the symbol.
Even without touching it, he felt the vibration.
It wasn't a threat.
It was a memory.
Or perhaps... an ancient call from a forgotten force.
—
He looked at Otrho.
— Someone wants to be found.
— Or someone wants to remind us of who we once were.
Otrho nodded silently.
Kael then turned to the group:
— We'll hold this position until the early hours of the night.
— If the pattern continues, we might be able to decipher the code.
Everyone understood.
The vigil had begun.
And with it, perhaps, a new chapter in the silent war against the Abyss—and against the very forgetting of time itself.