The blast had no color—only heat, pressure, and a tearing shriek that sounded like the world splitting open. Crystal Sol’s core ruptured in Andrew’s hands, and for a single suspended heartbeat he felt every nerve in his body ignite. Light swallowed the valley. The earth trembled. Air collapsed inward and then exploded outward with the violence of a dying star.He didn’t remember falling. Only the sensation of something ripping through him—into him—before the world dissolved into a white void.He should have died.That was the first thought that trickled into his fading consciousness when he finally heard voices again.“…Andrew! Andrew, answer me—”“…don’t move him, Yuki, he’s not breathing—”“…Noir… where did he go? God, there’s nothing left of the crater—”Their voices swirled like echoes underwater. Andrew pried open his eyes, but the world was a fractured horizon, colors glitching, sound splitting. His lungs refused to expand. Every muscle felt carved open.He wasn’t dead.He wishe

The darkness was not kind.It pressed against Noir like a vice, crushing, suffocating, pulling at the seams of his existence until every breath felt like a betrayal of physics. His vision flickered between two worlds—the broken valley where Andrew collapsed, and a swirling, infinite void of white-gold light that screamed inside his skull.He staggered backward from Andrew’s unconscious body, clutching his head.The relics inside him—Emerald NovaShadow Coreand the unstable fragments of Crystal Sol—all pulsed out of sync, like three different hearts forcing rhythm inside a single corpse.“Stop,” Noir whispered, but his voice split into three tones: his own, Solus’s echo, and something cold and mechanical.Yuki crouched protectively beside Andrew, glaring at Noir with trembling fury.“Stay away from him!”Rayan and Mika dragged Jiro’s limp body back, breathing hard, terrified but ready to fight again.Noir lifted a hand—shaking, not with exhaustion, but with something worse.Evolutio

Rain chased them as they moved north, the storm growing thicker, heavier, almost sentient—as if the world itself was warning them to turn around. Lightning carved jagged scars through the clouds, illuminating the mountains like the ribs of some ancient, slumbering beast.Andrew walked at the front.Barely.Every step felt like knives grinding in his bones. His breathing rasped. His vision blurred. The cracks in the Sapphire spread with each heartbeat, glowing faint blue-white before dimming again. But he didn’t slow down.Couldn’t.Noir was moving, and Andrew could feel him like a faint echo—a second pulse buried inside his own failing one.The others followed close, watching him with a mix of fear and helpless frustration.“Andrew,” Yuki murmured, her voice barely carrying over the wind. “You need to stop. You’re burning through your soul energy too fast.”Andrew didn’t look back. “If I stop, I won’t be able to start again.”Rayan clicked his tongue. “This is suicide. We should bind

Andrew awoke inside a memory.Not a dream—not a vision—a memory.Except it wasn’t his.The world around him shimmered like wet paint. Colors bled into each other. The ground felt weightless. The sky rippled like fabric in slow motion. Andrew blinked, disoriented, as the shapes solidified into something familiar:A long white corridor.Cold lights.Footsteps echoing against marble.He knew this place.This was the Helios Research Wing.Thirty years ago.Before he was born.Except—Andrew had never been here.Not as himself.He looked down.He was smaller. Weightless. Like watching through the eyes of something that wasn’t fully alive yet.A voice echoed down the corridor.Calm. Commanding. Too familiar.William.Andrew’s father.Andrew tensed as the man came into view—a tall figure in a dark coat, posture strict, eyes cold enough to freeze molten stone. Another figure walked beside him: a woman with long raven hair—Andrew’s mother.She was shaking.Andrew’s breath hitched. “Mom…?”She

Andrew didn’t remember waking.He only remembered the sensation of drowning in fire—Phoenix fire—and Noir’s scream echoing inside the collapsing cavern. Then weightlessness. Then nothing.Until now.He gasped sharply, sucking in air that tasted like earth, dust, and humidity. Not fire. Not brimstone. Real air. Damp, almost cold against his burned lungs.His vision blurred, then adjusted.He was lying in a tent.Canvas walls swayed gently. Rain—real rain this time—pattered outside like a thousand tiny drums.Yuki sat beside him, dark circles under her eyes, hands resting on Andrew’s chest, her aura woven into weak healing lines. Jiro stood near the entrance, arms crossed, staring at the storm. Rayan snored on the floor. Mika polished blood off her gauntlets, jaw tight.Andrew tried to sit up.Yuki pressed him back down instantly. “No.”He croaked, “Noir—”Yuki’s expression twisted—fear, grief, confusion. “He’s alive. But changed.”Jiro answered without turning. “Phoenix didn’t consume