The night was thick with fog and the scent of burnt stone. The old Market Ward lay silent, its once-bustling streets now carved with Circle wards that pulsed faintly under the moonlight.Mira crouched behind a collapsed wall, pressing her comm crystal to her ear. “Lyra, you’re sure this is the place?”Lyra’s whisper crackled through. “Confirmed. The energy signature matches the one from the cathedral ruins. Whatever they’re powering here, it’s big.”Mira glanced toward the towering building ahead: a repurposed courthouse, its spire etched with glowing runes. The symbol of the Circle, three interlocked rings, burned over the entrance.She took a steadying breath. “Then let’s find out what they’re hiding.”Inside, the air hummed with restrained power. The walls glowed faintly with suppression sigils; the scent of alchemical smoke lingered in the corridors.Lyra slipped in behind her, silent as a whisper. “You feel that?”“Yeah,” Mira murmured. “It’s not just power. It’s… alive.”They mo

Rain fell again over Valoria, softer now, like the city itself was trying to wash away what it had done.The northern skyline was gone. The tower that once touched the stars now lay in smoking fragments, scattered across streets slick with ash and melted sigils. The sky still flickered faintly with the remnants of Terry’s explosion, blue veins of power weaving through the clouds.Mira stood at the heart of the ruins, cloak tattered, hands trembling as she gripped the edge of a fallen archway.Behind her, the survivors moved like ghosts. Healers. Fighters. Rebels. Dozens of them, dazed, bruised, but breathing.Lyra stumbled up beside her, carrying a cracked datapad. “We’ve got the healers stabilized. Their life signatures are… erratic, but they’re alive.”Mira’s voice was hollow. “And the others?”Lyra hesitated. “Too many gone. Corvin’s students. The Shadowhands. The resistance cells from the southern wards. We can’t even count.”Mira nodded faintly, eyes unfocused. “Then start with t

The air above Valoria shimmered like glass under pressure.Buildings flickered in and out of focus. Light bent unnaturally around the streets. Even the moon’s reflection warped across the canals, twisting in fractured circles.Something was wrong. Deeply wrong.Mira stood at the highest point of the catacombs, staring at the distorted skyline. Her mark burned again, hotter this time, the pain threading down her arm.Lyra climbed up behind her, breathless. “It’s happening everywhere. Healers are collapsing mid-treatment, their energy fluxing out of control. Whatever Terry did when he struck the earth, it’s bleeding into our world.”Mira clenched her jaw. “He’s trying to cut himself off from Halden.”“Then he’s tearing reality in half to do it,” Lyra shot back. “If he keeps this up, the city will rip apart.”Mira turned. “He wouldn’t.”Lyra’s glare was sharp. “He’s not the same man anymore, Mira. You said it yourself.”Silence. Just the hum of broken light.Then Mira whispered, “He’s st

The new dawn broke slow over Valoria. No fire, no thunder, just the faint hum of rebuilding.Mira stood atop the fractured spire of what was once the Cathedral District. Wind tugged at her cloak, carrying the smell of ash and wet stone. Below her, the city flickered with faint, pale lights, healers at work, rebuilding block by block.Her fingers brushed the faint mark on her wrist, now gold, pulsing to its own rhythm. Terry’s rhythm.“Still with me,” she whispered.Behind her, footsteps echoed lightly across the rubble. Lyra. She was exhausted, hair streaked with soot, carrying a crystal tablet alive with moving maps.“They’ve stabilized the lower wards,” Lyra said quietly. “Half the healers are functional again, though… most can’t channel pure mana yet. You?”Mira didn’t turn. “I can’t channel anything. Not yet. The city’s magic feels… different.”“Different how?”“Like it’s breathing.”Lyra tilted her head. “That’s not necessarily bad.”“No,” Mira said softly. “It’s terrifying.”The

Valoria breathed again, tentative, uneven, but alive.Mira stood atop the broken spire of the Cathedral District, gazing over the city. The skyline was jagged, battered, and golden sunlight glinted off shards of glass and metal.Streets that had been rivers of fire were now quiet, lined with rebuilders and survivors moving carefully through the ruins.Lyra approached, carrying a bundle of supplies. “It’s… beautiful,” she said softly. “In a ruined sort of way.”Mira didn’t smile. “It’s fragile. And fragile things break if you’re not careful.”Lyra glanced at her. “Do you ever stop to think about what Terry did? About where he is now?”Mira’s eyes flickered to the faint glow in her mark. “Every day. He’s not here… but he’s everywhere. In the Breath. In the city. In all of us who survived.”Lyra swallowed. “So… he really is part of the city now.”“Yes,” Mira said quietly. “And we have to honor that.”In the streets below, healers worked in tandem with engineers, crafting wards, fortifyin