The morning after the feast was mercifully quiet. I found the library's sunlit balcony empty and slipped out with my Codex. I needed answers—new battles loomed beyond Black Spire. Valmira's prophecy echoed in my mind: the dormant Demon King's spirit still stirred.
I opened the Codex to a blank page. Before my eyes, glowing runes scrawled themselves across the parchment—a message I hadn't summoned: "Seek the Altar of Echoes."
My pulse quickened. I remembered a ruined chapel beneath the Academy—legends said it once housed an ancient oracle. I closed the Codex and made my way through silent halls.
At the chapel's entrance, I found Yuria practicing lightning drills alone. She skidded to a stop when she saw me. "You look like you saw a ghost."
"I…need to find the Altar of Echoes," I said, voice unsteady. "Runes just led me here."
Yuria's eyes softened. "Want company?" she asked, shouldering her dagger.
I nodded. "Wouldn't mind."
Together we slipped into the chapel's dust‑laden interior. Moonlight filtered through broken stained glass, casting fractured colors on the floor. At its center stood a crumbling dais—marble carved with ancient symbols.
I approached and pressed my palm against the altar's stone. A hush fell. Then, soft voices drifted through the chamber: echoes of past Architects, their triumphs and failures, their hopes stitched into the very walls.
Images flickered behind my eyelids: a demon king's crown, a shattered realm, a human hand bearing a golden sigil. The visions burned in my mind—warnings and guidance intertwined.
I staggered back, breath racing. Yuria caught me. "What did you see?"
I swallowed. "A choice: power to save or power to destroy. The Architect decides the world's fate."
Yuria's hand tightened on my arm. "Whatever you choose, I've got your back."
Her words grounded me. The echoes faded, leaving only the weight of destiny—and the promise of friendship.