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Chapter 53
The whisper still echoed in his mind.“You are the last Dragon Heir. Fight like one.”Jack stayed on his knees, the cold sweat clinging to his skin like ghost hands. His breath slowed. The glow from the dagger hummed across the walls of his room, steady as a heartbeat. Something inside him—something ancient—had been stirred awake.But the silence didn’t last long.A creak outside.Jack’s head snapped toward the door. Footsteps—silent, disciplined. Not from the stairs. From the window.He grabbed the dagger.Another whisper. Not from spirits.Leather against steel.Jack whirled just as the glass shattered. A black-clad figure burst through, blades drawn, moving with impossible speed.Time slowed.Jack ducked under the first swipe, kicked the assassin in the chest, sending him back through the broken window. Another figure dropped from the ceiling.He didn’t think.He moved.The dagger came alive in his hand—runes blazing gold, edge hot with power. He twisted, parried a blade, then drov
Chapter 52
The wind died.Some hours later.Jack stood alone beneath the ashen sky, his reflection wavering in the blade of the dragon dagger. The courtyard behind him faded into shadow. Somewhere distant, a siren cried into the night—but here, it was silent.And then he heard the voice.“You always were the heir.”Jack’s head jerked up. The air turned cold. Time cracked.The city vanished.He was no longer in Harmonfield.The world around him shifted—into something impossibly still. A golden wheat field stretched to a blood-orange horizon. Above, a dragon-shaped constellation burned across a smoky sky. And standing at the edge of the field, just beneath the flickering stars, was a man in a cracked leather cloak and weathered boots.“Old Joe?” Jack whispered.The old man didn’t smile. He looked tired. Older than Jack remembered, even in death.“Been a long time, son.”Jack took a hesitant step forward. “Is this… real?”Joe struck a match and lit his pipe. The flame flickered unnaturally slow, li
Chapter 51
The dragon dagger pulsed with quiet warning.Jack and Sarah stared at it, silence weighing heavy between them. The rooftop lights flickered once—then again.“Did you see that?” Sarah asked, pulling away slightly.Jack stood, reaching for the dagger. The moment his fingers brushed the hilt, a gust of wind slammed into the sanctuary. Distant alarms wailed. Below, lights across Harmonfield blinked, then died—one block after another.“Citywide blackout?” Sarah muttered, already activating her comms.Static.“Something’s wrong,” Jack said.Before she could answer, a low boom echoed across the skyline. Not an explosion—something worse. Intentional. Rhythmic. Like footsteps made of thunder.Then a voice rang out, not over speakers, not over comms, but inside their minds.“Still rebuilding castles on a battlefield, I see.”Jack froze.Sarah's eyes widened. “That voice… Jack, is that—?”He was already running.They bolted down the stairs, through the sanctuary’s spine. Trainees had poured into
Chapter 50
The silence after Emily’s sealing lingered long past the stilling of wind and flame.Jack stayed kneeling in the center of the scorched circle, the world blurry at the edges. The others gave him space—unspoken agreement. Mourning had no choreography.Only Sarah approached, quiet as snowfall. She crouched beside him, her voice a whisper.“She meant it, Jack.”He nodded, still staring at the spot where Emily had vanished.“She was right,” he said. “We never really understood how deep it went. The Void wasn’t a thing. It was a mirror.”Sarah didn’t answer. She just sat beside him in silence, letting the night breathe.Above them, the stars didn’t care. But maybe one of them flickered a little brighter.One Year LaterThe skyline of Harmonfield rose new and clean, glass towers like freshly drawn swords catching morning light. Streets bustled again. Markets reopened. Children laughed without flinching at thunder.But just beneath the city’s rebirth—etched into its bones—was what had been l
Chapter 49
The rift bled light, red and writhing like muscle torn across the sky.Jack’s breath caught. “No… not again.”Wind howled through the rubble of Harmonfield, dragging ash in frantic spirals. The others stood motionless, watching the scar above the horizon pulse like a heartbeat.Angela stepped forward. “That’s not just a rift. It’s… pulling.”They all felt it—a slow, irresistible tug behind their ribs. Like gravity being rewritten.Ryan’s voice broke. “The Void’s not gone.”Patricia flinched. “But Emily—she sealed it. She gave everything.”Jack turned back toward the sinkhole. The ash had shifted.It wasn’t just ash anymore.It was her.A silhouette, crouched in the ruins. Hands clawed into the stone, shoulders rising and falling with ragged breath. Fire still flickered at the edges of her skin—but so did shadow, like ink fighting to claim her outline.“Emily,” Jack whispered.She looked up.Her eyes glowed like molten gold. But around them, a ring of black bled outward.“Jack,” she sa
Chapter 48
The sinkhole spewed fresh horror. Shadows rose like oil boiling over, howling in voices not their own. The flame on Jack’s dagger hissed against the corruption, but he didn’t flinch.“Flamebearers—on me!” he roared again!The Dragon Mark bearers fanned out behind him, their marks glowing brighter than ever. Ryan, already crackling with sapphire fire, raised both hands. Flames coiled skyward, forming twin dragons that dove into the sinkhole, carving a path.Emily moved next, fire spiraling from her arms like ribbons, igniting glyphs embedded in the stone. Angela unleashed a pulse of silver heat, searing Void creatures into ash.Sarah leapt into the fray, blades twin arcs of vengeance. “Push forward! Don’t let them reform!”Angela’s voice buzzed over the runespeaker. “The northern flank is holding, but we can’t last much longer! That sinkhole has to be sealed!”Jack’s jaw tightened. He raced ahead.The sinkhole pulsed like a wound in the earth. And from its depth, George rose again—chan
Chapter 47
Smoke clung to the shattered stones like mourning cloth, the echoes of Vincent’s last stand still pulsing in the air. The fire ring he summoned had scorched the breach shut, sealing the tower from the shadow swarm—for now.Jack hadn’t moved from the spot where Vincent disappeared. His hand hovered near the barrier’s remains, ash flaking off his fingertips. No words passed between them. None seemed enough.Angela finally spoke, her voice brittle. “He knew. The fire would consume him. That was the price.”Jack nodded, jaw clenched so tight it ached. “He paid for it anyway.” Sarah placed a trembling hand on his shoulder. “We’ll honor him by finishing this. That’s what he wanted.”Ryan stepped up beside them, still faintly glowing with sapphire flame. “He didn’t just buy time… he gave us a chance.”Patricia lowered her head, tears trailing down dirt-smeared cheeks. “Then let’s not waste it.”Emily stood tall in the seal’s center, her fire a silent storm. “Let’s move. Harmonfield is waiti
Chapter 46
The possessed Council member charged from the shadows, mouth unhinged, black ichor dripping from its jaw like venom. Its body moved wrong—too fast, too fluid, like it had no bones left, only hunger.Jack reacted first.He stepped in front of Emily, dragonfire erupting from his palm and blasting the creature back. It screamed, twisting in mid-air, before slamming into one of the tower’s cracked columns.“Seal the circle!” Angela shouted, voice strained. “We can’t let anything breach it during the Rite!”Ryan stumbled, nearly breaking formation. Patricia grabbed his shoulder, steadying him. “Stay sharp. You fall, we all fall.”Jack turned to Emily and Ryan, eyes fierce.“We don’t have time. The seals are reacting. We have to awaken the marks. Now.”Angela stepped forward, producing two obsidian vials etched in red runes. The liquid inside shimmered like molten blood.Sarah appeared in the tower’s entrance, breathless, clutching the dragon dagger tightly against her chest.“I found the l
Chapter 45
He stood in the doorway, watching Sarah clutch the dragon dagger like it might crack and spill time itself.His heart thudded like war drums beneath his ribs. There wasn’t time to linger.He stepped into the catacomb’s shadows.Behind him, Sarah didn’t call after him.She knew better than to try and stop the tide.The drive down from Old Joe’s ridge felt like descending from the past into a burning present.As the vehicle crested the hill overlooking Harmonfield, Jack’s breath caught.The city below wasn’t just burning—it was bleeding.Smoke billowed from shattered buildings. Lightning cracked the skies, streaking violet and black. Roads were torn like paper. The clock tower—the one Ryan used to graffiti—lay in ruins.The Vault had broken through.Jack gripped the wheel tighter.They rolled through the city’s remains, past overturned vehicles and flickering streetlamps, as cries echoed from side streets. Patricia reached for her pistol without a word. Emily pressed her hand against th
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