Samuel could feel it now—under his boots, behind the stone, within the wind. It pulsed like a dying star trying to reignite. Every step through the tunnels below Aretra was a descent into something older than pain, older than history.Sarah walked beside him, sword in hand. Her eyes were unblinking.“You’re sure this is where she’s hiding?” she asked.He nodded. “Falcon traced the artifact’s resonance. She’s somewhere deep. Possibly near the Well.”“The last time someone tried to approach the Well,” Sarah said, “they went mad.”“I was born mad,” Samuel muttered. “This just makes it honest.”They passed skeletal remains—some armored, some not. Centuries-old victims of the Hollow’s whispers. It wanted to be worshipped. Or feared. Maybe both.Sarah spoke again. “What if she’s truly gone, Sam? What if all that’s left is the creature?”“Then I’ll bring the creature down,” he said. “But I won’t believe she’s lost until I hear it from her lips.”“And if she lies?”He didn’t answer.At the ch

I didn’t tell Samuel. I didn’t tell Sarah. I didn’t tell anyone.Not about the man in green.Not about the silver mask.And definitely not about the dream.Because it wasn’t just a dream.It was a warning.Or maybe… an invitation.I stood over the ancient basin inside the library’s lower crypt—where time seemed to curl around the dust and the air hummed with unspent spells. The last pages of the Sleeper Codex floated above the water, glowing faintly in the dark.“When the third awakens, the Gate will burn open, and the Sleeper will wear a face.”A face.Mine?Upstairs, the war council convened again. This time, there were strangers among us—envoys from the Flame Tribes, the Marshland Seers, and a group that introduced themselves simply as “The Harrowed.”“We’ve fought monsters,” said the Harrowed leader, a woman with bone piercings and a scar down her throat. “We’ve hunted gods that fell from their thrones. But we’ve never seen anything like this.”Samuel leaned forward. “We need unit

“You’re not her,” I whispered.The woman before me had the Seer’s voice, her silvered hair, the delicate fracture lines in her face from too many visions—yes. But her presence?Wrong.Wrong like a song sung backward.Wrong like silence in a heartbeat.She opened her eyes, and void looked back.“She gave consent,” the not-Seer said softly. “A willing vessel makes the strongest Gate.”Sarah stumbled to my side, blood still drying on her temple. “What does that mean?”“It means she didn’t resist,” I answered. “She chose this.”“No,” the creature countered. “She chose you. And you failed her again.”Sarah didn’t speak. Her breathing was ragged. Her hands trembled.Falcon and Samuel arrived seconds later, weapons drawn. Falcon looked between us all, then immediately pointed his blade at the Seer.Samuel’s voice was cold. “What happened?”“She’s the Gate now,” I said, never taking my eyes off her. “The Sleeper’s using her to hold the rift open.”Falcon took a step forward. “Then we close it

The sky over Aretra City bled orange as the first fires erupted on the eastern wall. Smoke coiled like serpents through the narrow alleys while bells rang with panic and command. Civilians scattered. Soldiers formed shaky lines. From the northern towers, Samuel could see the enemy pouring in like floodwaters from broken dams."Where the hell is Captain Virel?!" Samuel shouted over the chaos.A younger soldier—barely older than a boy—ran up to him, face slick with soot. "Sir, Virel’s down. Arrow to the throat. You’re in command."Samuel blinked once. Then he nodded. "Sound the horn. Call in the Crimson Guard. And someone get word to Madeline."The boy saluted, stumbled, then disappeared into the smoke.The city groaned under its own weight.Allies from the western clans had arrived at dawn, banners still stained with blood from battles fought just days before. But Aretra wasn’t ready. Supplies were low. Morale thinner than a blade’s edge. And worst of all—they had no idea who had betra

The crystalline roots that had sprouted when she touched the artifact spread out like veins, threading across broken stone and into the city’s foundations. The leyline had not only bloomed—it had reshaped the battlefield.Sarah knelt beside Samuel. “She’s alive?”“For now,” he said quietly.The Falcon crouched at the crater’s edge, inspecting the glowing roots. “This isn’t natural. This is controlled growth—like a mind guiding the leyline’s expansion.”Samuel looked down at Nara. “She became that mind. But I don’t think it’s over.”“Of course it’s not,” a familiar voice said behind them.They turned sharply.It was Damian, dusty and bruised, a streak of blood trailing down his temple. “The tunnels go deeper than we thought. We reached the original vault—the real one.”Samuel stood. “You found the Source?”Damian nodded grimly. “And something else. The Source… isn’t a thing. It’s a prison.”That landed like a blade.The Falcon tensed. “A prison for what?”Damian didn’t answer immediate