East of the ruined town, Rai—Ronan's clone ran with Aria, Selena, Eryk, and Orin.
The ground beneath their feet was uneven, littered with shattered stone and blackened debris that crunched with every step. A faint, bitter smell of ash still clung to the air, as though the fire that had devoured the town refused to fully die.
Aria, Eryk, and Orin led from the front, their pace steady and sharp. Behind them, Rai struggled to keep the rhythm. His left eye remained tightly shut, the skin around it swollen and discoloured—burned from the strain of overusing Keen Eye. Each step jarred his body, sending dull pulses of pain up his spine.
Then—
His breath hitched.
The world tilted.
A vision slammed into him without warning.
Rai staggered, his footing slipping on loose gravel. His body pitched forward.
"Don't—touch me!" he barked, voice cracking with urgency.
Too late.
Selena's hand had already closed around his arm.
Skin met skin.
The vision broke open.
Selena's scream tore through the air as she collapsed to her knees, fingers clawing at the ground as if trying to anchor herself to something real.
The others skidded to a halt and turned back.
Inside the vision—
The town lived.
Whole.
Untouched.
And then it burned.
Flames devoured rooftops, curling through wooden beams with a hungry roar. Smoke choked the sky, thick and suffocating. The streets ran slick—dark, wet—reflecting firelight that danced over bodies sprawled in unnatural stillness.
Screams layered over one another. High-pitched. Ragged. Ending too quickly.
A child knelt beside a woman, small fingers shaking as they tugged at her unmoving hand.
"Mama… wake up… please…"
No response.
Another child clutched a blood-soaked tunic, pressing their face into a man's chest.
"Papa… why are you sleeping…?"
Nearby, a group of teenagers formed a trembling barrier, arms spread wide as they tried to shield younger children behind them. Their courage lasted only a moment—steel pierced through them without hesitation.
Others didn't even run.
They knelt.
Eyes empty.
Arms open.
Accepting.
Waiting.
Selena's body convulsed. Her breath came in broken gasps as the vision flooded deeper, pressing against her mind, forcing her to feel everything—the heat, the terror, the helplessness.
Rai gritted his teeth hard enough that his jaw trembled. With a sharp motion, he summoned a purple crystal and hurled it toward her.
It halted midair above her head, spinning slowly, radiating a soft, pulsing glow.
"Soul-smoothing Crystal," Aria whispered, her voice tight.
"Channel your Aether into it!" Rai snapped. "I don't have enough left!"
He tried anyway.
Aether surged—then fractured.
Thin cracks split across his skin with a dry, brittle sound, like glass under pressure. They spread rapidly along his arms, across his shoulders. Beneath them, raw red flesh showed through.
Blood welled, then spilt.
His fingers twitched. His breath hitched—
—and he coughed violently, crimson splattering against the ground.
"Rai!" Aria rushed toward him, panic flashing across her face.
Rai dropped heavily into a seated position, crossing his legs with forced steadiness. His hands trembled as he pulled out an Aether crystal and began absorbing it, dragging energy into himself in ragged pulls.
"Heal her," he rasped. "I'm fine."
He wasn't.
But no one argued.
One by one, they extended their hands toward the floating stone. Aether streamed from their palms—thin at first, then stronger—feeding into the crystal.
Light shimmered.
The air hummed faintly, vibrating against their skin.
Seconds stretched.
Then—
Selena jerked, her back arching as she sucked in a sharp breath, as someone dragged from deep water. Her eyes snapped open, unfocused at first, then slowly found the world again.
The crystal above her head fractured.
It shattered into dust that dissolved into the air.
Aria dropped to her knees beside her. "What happened?!"
Selena opened her mouth—
—and gagged.
Her body folded forward as she retched, emptying what little was in her stomach. Her shoulders shook with each heave, fingers digging into the dirt.
No one spoke.
They waited.
The wind moved softly through the ruined outskirts, carrying the distant creak of broken structures shifting.
Rai remained seated, eyes closed, breathing shallow but controlled.
"Don't ask her what she saw," he said quietly.
His voice had lost its earlier sharpness. It came out low. Flat.
"The more she remembers… the deeper it pulls."
Selena wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Her fingers lingered there, trembling slightly. She stared at the ground, unfocused, as if something still lingered just beneath the surface of her thoughts.
Rai opened his eyes and looked at her, irritation flickering across his expression.
"Didn't Sir Alden tell you?" he said. "Don't touch Ronan—or me. I'm also him."
Selena didn't look up.
Her grip tightened around her own arm, nails pressing into skin.
"You don't have a heart," she said softly.
Rai didn't react.
"If I did," he replied, just as quietly, "I wouldn't survive those visions."
Another purple crystal formed in his palm. He tossed it toward her. She caught it instinctively.
"Hold on to it. Don't let it go." A pause. "And don't think about what you saw."
Then, after a brief hesitation—
"Let's keep moving."
Eryk exhaled through his nose, forcing a crooked grin. "Need to be carried?"
Selena shot him a sharp glare, clutching the crystal tighter. "No."
That was the end of it.
They moved.
Faster this time.
North.
Toward the others.
A few hours earlier—
At the centre of the town, the group had found them.
Fractured.
Dozens—no, hundreds—of them circled aimlessly around something unseen, their movements erratic, unnatural. Their bodies twitched in broken rhythms, like puppets pulled by fraying strings.
"There's an array," Felix said, eyes narrowing as he studied the space. "It's absorbing ambient Aether. That's why we felt drained earlier."
Alden glanced at him. "Can you break it?"
Felix nodded once.
He stepped forward.
His hands began to move—precise, controlled, forming one sign after another in rapid succession. With each motion, a glowing magic circle formed in the air, layered with intricate patterns that pulsed faintly.
One circle.
Then another.
Then another.
They descended, overlapping, interlocking—until two massive arrays formed, spinning slowly in opposition.
Felix's hands didn't stop.
The circles tightened, their edges grinding against each other with a low, resonant hum.
Then—
They shattered.
Light burst outward in fragments, dissolving into drifting motes before vanishing completely.
Silence.
Then chaos.
The Fractured screamed.
Not with voices—but with something deeper, raw and broken. They surged forward in a frenzy, limbs jerking, mouths open in silent howls.
Samantha, Roderick, Sophia, Lyra, Dorian, and Oliver moved as one.
Steel flashed.
Aether surged.
Sophia's ice spread across the ground in a sweeping wave, freezing clusters of Fractured mid-lunge, their bodies locking in twisted shapes before shattering apart.
Dorian's thunder followed—sharp, violent arcs that tore through their cores with explosive force, scattering fragments in all directions.
Samantha and Roderick advanced side by side, their blades glowing with a steady golden light. Each swing was clean. Efficient. Bodies fell apart before they could even complete their attacks.
Lyra's flames roared to life, consuming everything they touched, leaving nothing but ash drifting in the heated air.
No one blocked.
No one parried.
Every movement was a dodge, a shift, a step just outside the path of clawing hands and snapping jaws. They flowed through the battlefield rather than resisting it.
At the edge, Oliver struggled to keep up, flames flickering uncertainly around his feet as he repositioned again and again, frustration tightening his jaw.
The instructors—Alden, Alaric, and Felix—stood back, watching closely. Ready. Waiting.
They never needed to step in.
Eventually, the last Fractured fell.
The clearing stilled.
Sophia bent forward slightly, drawing in deep breaths. Oliver leaned on his knees, chest rising and falling rapidly.
But Samantha, Roderick, Lyra, and Dorian remained standing, their stances steady—worn, but unbroken.
They moved deeper.
And found her.
A woman sat in the centre of the scorched ground, legs folded beneath her, eyes closed.
Untouched.
Time had not marked her. No dust, no decay—nothing.
Felix approached slowly, studying her.
"Multiple seals," he murmured. "The one we broke… it was reinforcing the others. There's one on her mind—keeping her in deep slumber."
Nearby, a massive red Aether crystal pulsed faintly. Beside it, a strange blood-red flame flickered, its movement slow, almost deliberate.
Alaric turned slightly. "Felix, can you—"
Before he could finish, something shifted.
Elsewhere.
Other seals broke.
The one on her mind weakened.
Cracked.
Then—
Her eyes opened.
Slowly.
Distant.
Her lips moved, forming names too soft to hear clearly.
When her gaze settled on them, confusion flickered across her face.
"Water…" she said, her voice dry but steady. "Can you give me some water?"
Samantha stepped forward immediately, offering her a flask.
As she drank, Felix worked methodically, dismantling the remaining seals, then the chains wrapped around her wrists and ankles. Each layer resisted before finally giving way.
She spoke as he worked.
Explaining.
Remembering.
Alden listened closely.
Something didn't sit right.
Despite everything—years, perhaps longer—she was calm. Too calm.
He stepped forward. "Ma'am… may I ask what race you belong to?"
Her gaze shifted to him.
For a moment, something in it pressed down—subtle, but heavy enough to make his shoulders stiffen.
"Don't call me Ma'am," she said.
"I am Ishulane. Of a Celestial race."
Alden bowed slightly. "Lady Ishulane."
Samantha finished healing her injuries. The skin smoothed completely—no marks left behind.
They set up camp.
Gave her time.
Waited.
By the time Rai's group arrived, the clearing had settled into a quiet tension.
Alden sat cross-legged, deep in meditation. Alaric and Felix stood nearby, watchful.
Roderick, Dorian, Samantha, Sophia, and Oliver stood at a distance.
At the centre—
Lyra sat beneath the faint shade of a broken structure, legs folded, sweat trailing down her temples as the blood-red flame spiralled toward her, threading into her chest in slow, controlled streams.
Rai's eyes widened.
"My flame!" he shouted, breaking into a sprint. "I saw this flame!"
He reached the edge—
Just as the final ember vanished into Lyra.
He stopped.
Froze.
Then dropped to his knees.
"My flame…" he whispered, staring at her chest as something precious had just been stolen.
Lyra blinked, then narrowed her eyes. Without a word, she raised a fist.
"Don't touch him!" Selena snapped, rushing forward and grabbing her arm.
Lyra frowned. "Why are you defending this idiot?"
Before Selena could respond—
A voice cut through.
"You're a Phantom Clone."
Everything stilled.
Rai straightened instantly, the theatrics draining from him as if they had never existed.
"I am," he said, tone sharp now.
His gaze locked onto the woman.
"And you…?"
Inside his mind, thoughts raced.
"I can't read her Tier. That's bad. She looks calm. That's worse. Boss always said—Calm ones kill you first. I should leave."
Aloud, he said, "Sir Alaric, I've brought them back. I'll take my leave now."
"You are one of the special ones, aren't you?"
His heart lurched.
"Oh no. No no no—"
He formed a hand sign, trying to force-cancel the clone.
Nothing happened.
The woman smiled faintly. "Don't worry. I won't harm you."
Samantha stepped forward. "That's my brother."
The woman inclined her head slightly. "I also use the Phantom Clone technique."
Rai blinked. "Wait… you're Celestial?"
"I am Ishulane."
He bowed deeply without hesitation. "Your clan's techniques have saved me more times than I can count."
She studied him for a moment, then said, "In a fragmented space like this… force-cancelling Phantom Clones won't always work. When you fully grasp the technique, you'll understand why."
Rai's eyes lit up despite himself. "Ooo… that's useful."
Then, without pause—
"Can you teach me the full technique?"
Alden moved faster than expected.
A sharp smack landed on Rai's head.
"Apologise."
Rai winced, then bowed again. "Sorry."
Aria stepped forward, raising the crystal sphere.
"We found this."
It lifted from her hand, projecting light into the air.
Two figures appeared.
Ishulane's breath caught.
"Sylthar… Morvain…"
The men bowed deeply.
"We're sorry, Lady Ishulane…"
Their voices carried guilt. Regret.
They explained everything—the surveillance, the reports, the shift in orders after she became a mother. How they unknowingly helped plan the tragedy. How they tried to return. Tried to warn her.
Too late.
Always too late.
"If you're seeing this… we're sorry. We meant to free you. But we were the ones who trapped you."
"Don't seek revenge. They're stronger now. If you fight… you'll need allies."
The projection faded.
Silence pressed in.
Ishulane let out a soft laugh.
It wasn't amused.
It cracked halfway through.
"Even then…" she murmured, gaze lowering, "with all my strength… I couldn't bring down even one."
Her fingers curled slightly in her lap.
"What hope do I have now?"