Twilight bled into the Ashen Veil skies, staining the horizon with streaks of crimson and deep indigo. Ashveil Academy loomed in the distance, its towers clawing at the heavens, shrouded in whispers of magic and ambition. Otoku stood on the southern terrace, his gaze steady, arms crossed over his chest. The wind carried with it the scent of cinders and freshly tilled earth—a reminder that change was as constant as the passing seasons.
Arthelia joined him, her blindfold tied neatly, strands of silver hair framing her delicate face. She moved with purpose, each step whispering of grace and hidden strength. "The Pact stirs," she began, her voice a mere breath against the wind. "Rumors are spreading. Shadows are gathering in the northern enclaves."
Otoku's fingers traced the edges of the Codex at his side, the dark-metal tome humming with latent energy. "They've been waiting," he replied, eyes still locked on the distant skyline. "The Rift's emergence was the catalyst. Now they're coming out of hiding."
Arthelia turned her head slightly, the blindfold shifting as if she were searching for his expression. "You intend to meet them?" she asked.
Otoku's lips curled into a faint smile—cold and resolute. "Meet them? No. I intend to uproot them." His voice hardened with conviction. "The Pact's been manipulating the loop for too long. They think they understand the Rift… but they're playing with embers from a fire they can't contain."
A shadow flickered behind them—Noctis emerged, his form more defined than before. His fur shimmered with streaks of violet light, eyes smoldering with predatory intelligence. "They're moving their pawns," Noctis growled, voice rumbling through their minds. "Raids in the Outlands, disappearances in the Frostbitten Plains. They want something... or someone."
Arthelia's grip on her staff tightened. "They seek the Codex," she murmured. "They know it's the key to mastering the Rift's essence."
Otoku's gaze darkened. "Then we give them a reason to fear its power. We strike first."
Silence hung between them, heavy and electric. Arthelia finally nodded. "If we're to do this, we must move quickly. The Vanguard should be informed."
Otoku stepped away from the terrace edge, his cloak billowing behind him. "Prepare them. Tonight, the shadows won't have the first move. We will."
The air seemed to thicken with purpose as they departed, Noctis trailing behind like a wraith. The Pact's grip had stretched for too long, weaving threads of manipulation through every corner of Ashveil. But tonight, Otoku intended to cut those threads—one by one.
And the Ashen Veil would watch as the shadows burned.