We marched at dawn, but no one spoke.
Not Lilith, not Seraphina, not even Yuria—who usually couldn't go three minutes without a cocky remark. The path east was lined with ancient runes long buried beneath the academy's gardens. Now they glowed, exposed like bones in the dirt.
Valmira walked beside me, her tome clasped shut for once. "We're crossing into uncharted territory," she said softly. "The realm between fate and memory."
I tightened my cloak. "Sounds poetic."
"It's not," she replied. "It's dangerous."
The world around us had changed. Trees bent away as we passed. Shadows didn't move with the light. Magic felt heavier—like it wanted to be used but also feared it would be.
Lilith led us to a crumbling altar at the edge of a ruined temple.
"This is where the first Architect fell," she said, touching the stone. "Where Kael Ren chose to forget."
I stepped forward, placing my palm on the altar. The shard responded with a sharp jolt—like a memory being reinserted into a broken mind.
Images flashed—flames, betrayal, the golden figure rising from a pit of stars.
The war we were fighting?
It hadn't ended. It had only paused.
And we'd just hit resume.