The guild hall of Argent Dawn shimmered with refined aetherlight, its polished obsidian floor reflecting the stained-glass insignia of the guild like a cathedral ceiling turned upside down. At the center stood Eria, her cloak flowing like mist, eyes cold and precise. She had grown—sharper, faster, quieter. The title of guild leader had not dulled her; it had carved her into glass.
A simulated training arena hovered in the chamber behind her. Her teammates—former classmates who once stood beside Noct—were locked in simulated battle against a towering construct.
"Again," Eria commanded.
Her form blurred, vanishing into transparency. Her blade left a faint shimmer as she passed through the construct's attack. She reappeared behind it—mirror shards exploded outward as the phantom she left in her place was struck. The construct stumbled. Before it could recover, Eria shattered into glass, reappearing midair behind the enemy with a spear of refracted light.
"Glassfade," she whispered, "isn't just an ability—it's adaptation. Illusion. Precision."
As the simulation ended, a few of her teammates gathered:
Joren: Wielder of Pulse Fang, an ability that amplified his strikes based on his heartbeat. He served as the team's bruiser, but his control was erratic.
Kara: Gifted with Floral Dervish, a technique that let her spin petal-shaped blades in wide sweeping arcs.
Thalen: A scout-type user of Echo Tread, which let him leave silent footsteps that stored kinetic force—great for momentum kicks and evasive strikes.
But none of them had the clarity or control Eria did. She was feared and admired alike, and though her voice never once spoke his name, every order, every mission, echoed the void Noct had left behind.
Only one didn't join this guild: Rael.
>Meanwhile, deep within the unknown Labyrinth...
Noct's party advanced, breath steady, blades ready. They had just defeated a mimicling swarm, the tunnel walls still wet with flickering light. Ellen's blade gleamed with momentum. Mia's daggers still hummed from the velocity of her last throw.
"We're close to the top," Ellen muttered. "Every step feels... thinner."
"Like the labyrinth doesn't want us to leave," Mia added.
But then, the ground beneath them pulsed.
A runic circle flared to life.
"No—!" Noct tried to move, but it was too late.
Light engulfed them.
They reappeared in a cavern unlike any they had seen. Black crystal spires jutted from the ground, emitting no light, but devouring it. In the center floated a cradle of voidsteel holding a singular, pulsing item. It looked like a core—a fragment of some lost construct, its surface unreadable.
[SYSTEM ERROR]
Item: [Undefined]
Warning: This item is outside all known classification and registry. Interaction is forbidden. DO NOT USE.
Noct stared, mesmerized.
He heard the system's voice again.
"This item's properties exceed acceptable variance thresholds. Retrieving it will cause critical fluctuations in interface protocols."
"...Why does it feel like it's calling to me?" he whispered.
Mia placed a hand on her dagger. "That thing's wrong. Like it shouldn't exist here."
Ellen's brows furrowed. "Then why was it sealed?"
Noct stepped closer. Despite the system's warning, his hand hovered just inches from the item. For a brief moment, the entire cavern trembled.
Then he pulled his hand away.
Not yet.
Far away, in a darkened chamber filled with static screens, Seraphon studied data streams. His eyes flickered across hundreds of profiles: names, ranks, threat levels.
One commander appeared behind him—Revya Tal, the Singularity Saint, her silhouette ghostlike.
"There are many," she whispered, "but none worth assimilating... yet."
Seraphon paused on one screen.
Eria Silver: Tier 3 Venator. Ability: Glassfade. Threat Potential: High.
He continued scanning. The name Noct never appeared.
"Status: Deceased."
But fate often misleads even the coldest minds.