The stars had returned but not quite the same. It felt…off.
Weeks had passed since the resonance collapse, and the sky above the Academy looked different now. The constellations were brighter, rearranged, as if the universe had quiet rewritten its own script. It felt…like a lie.
To most people, it was a beautiful phenomenon the "Celestial Realignment," as the professors called it.
To Eryndor, it was a reminder that even the cosmos could fracture and pretend it hadn't. It felt…like he was the only one who saw the cracks.
He sat on the highest terrace of the west tower, the night wind cold against his skin. It felt…lonely.
The world below was asleep; the only sounds were the rustle of ivy and the faint hum of energy still bleeding from the old resonance grid far beneath the campus. It felt…like the past was refusing to stay buried.
He tilted his head back, eyes tracing the slow arc of the Orion cluster or what was left of it. Half the formation had shifted west, leaving a hollow where the hunter's bow once gleamed. It felt…incomplete.
"How does it feel," a voice asked from behind, "knowing even the stars changed after you broke the world?"
Eryndor didn't turn. "You're being dramatic again, Luca."
"I've been spending too much time with you," Luca said, stepping forward and dropping down beside him. His jacket was half unzipped, a soft breeze ruffling his hair. He looked…tired.
"Couldn't sleep?" Eryndor asked.
"Not when you keep wandering off to brood under the stars."
He sounded…worried.
Eryndor smiled, faint. "Old habits."
"Old habits," Luca echoed. "Like the way you stare at the sky until you forget what ground feels like?"
"Something like that."
They sat in silence for a while, watching the stars breathe, pulse in the velvet dark. It felt…like they were the only two people awake in the world.
Luca finally said, "Do you ever think about what's next? I mean…for you. For us."
Eryndor's gaze didn't waver. "I try not to."
He was afraid of what the future might hold.
"That's not much of a plan."
"Plans are for people who believe the world is…predictable."
"Spoken like a true disaster survivor," Luca muttered, though there was no real bite in his tone.
Eryndor chuckled under his breath. "You make it sound like a title."
"It kind of is," Luca said. "You've been through more chaos than the rest of us combined. If the universe had a way of keeping score, you'd probably owe it interest."
He looked…impressed.
Eryndor turned then, eyes glinting faint in the starlight. "And what about you?"
"Me?"
"You're still here."
He couldn't help but wonder why.
Luca shrugged. "Someone has to make sure you don't start glowing uncontrollably again."
Eryndor raised an eyebrow. "That's your excuse for staying?"
"I have others," Luca said, voice quieting, gaze softening. "But they're harder to…explain."
He looked…vulnerable.
Eryndor didn't press. He didn't need to. The silence between them said more than words could. It felt…intimate.
Down below, the campus lights flickered out one by one. It felt…like the world was going to sleep.
The night deepened.
Eryndor leaned back, his shoulders brushing the cold stone of the parapet. "Sometimes I wonder if I'm really…free. Or if this is just another illusion built to keep me calm."
Luca frowned. "You mean like…a simulation?"
Eryndor shook his head. "Not exactly. More like…the Architect's final trick. The idea that even peace could be…artificial."
He couldn't shake the feeling that he was being manipulated.
Luca studied him, quiet. "And if it is?"
Eryndor's expression softened. "Then I guess I'll pretend it's real until it…feels like it."
He had to find a way to live with the uncertainty.
Luca smirked, faint. "You and your philosophical coping mechanisms."
Eryndor smiled back. "You're one to talk."
He knew that Luca had his own ways of dealing with things.
They both laughed a small, unguarded sound that cut through the night air like warmth against frost. It felt…like they were sharing a secret.
Then, almost on instinct, Luca leaned closer, his shoulder brushing against Eryndor's. The contact was light, hesitant but grounding. It felt…electric.
Eryndor didn't move away.
He wanted to be close to Luca.
The stars above seemed to pulse in rhythm with the quiet between them, as if the whole sky was holding its breath. It felt…like they were the only two people in the universe.
Hours passed without either of them noticing. It felt…like time had stopped.
By the time dawn began to stretch across the horizon, the world below had turned to silver, pale gold. It felt…like a new beginning.
Luca yawned, soft. "If Soren catches us out here, he'll give another speech about post-resonance instability."
Eryndor smiled, faint. "Let him. It's not like he can…ground us."
"Technically, he could."
"Technically," Eryndor murmured, "I could disassemble the entire energy core with my mind."
Luca blinked. "...Fair point."
They both smiled.
Then, as light touched the edge of the world, Eryndor said, soft, "You know what I miss most?"
Luca tilted his head. "What?"
"The quiet. Not silence real quiet. The kind that comes before the world decides to move…again."
He longed for a moment of true peace.
Luca followed his gaze toward the rising sun. "You're poetic when you're sleep-deprived."
"I'm honest when I'm tired."
The sunlight spilled across Eryndor's face, warm, almost blinding. Luca looked at him for a moment too long at the boy who had once carried destruction in his veins and now looked like something entirely human. It felt…like he was seeing him for the first time.
For a fleeting second, Luca thought he saw something move within the light a faint shimmer, like a reflection that didn't quite belong. It felt…unsettling.
He blinked, and it was gone.
He didn't mention it. Not yet.
He didn't want to scare Eryndor.
That morning, a message arrived for Eryndor sealed with the Academy's emblem. It felt…ominous.
He tore it open absent as Luca stretched beside him.
"Subject: Reassignment Proposal."
His eyes skimmed the text, brow furrowing.
"What is it?" Luca asked.
Eryndor folded the paper, slow. "They want me to join the external research division."
"Off-campus?"
He nodded. "Near the coastal outpost. They're rebuilding the mirror array."
He felt a knot of dread tighten in his stomach.
Luca stared. "After everything? They're doing it…again?"
Eryndor exhaled, jaw tightening. "They never learn."
"What are you going to do?"
"I don't know," Eryndor admitted. "But I have to see it. If the resonance is waking again, I can't ignore it."
He knew he had to face the threat, even if it scared him.
Luca's voice dropped, steady but sharp. "Then I'm coming with you."
Eryndor's eyes lifted to meet his. "That's not an order you can just"
"It's not an order," Luca interrupted. "It's a…choice."
He wanted Eryndor to know that he was with him, no matter what.
Eryndor's lips parted, but the words wouldn't come. He felt…grateful.
Outside, the wind shifted, carrying with it the faintest sound like the echo of something ancient stirring beneath the earth. It felt…like the world was holding its breath.
Neither of them noticed at first.
But the stars above flickered just once as if winking out of alignment. It felt…like a warning.
The wind off the western cliffs carried the taste of salt, static. It felt…like something was coming.
Two days after the message arrived, Eryndor stood at the edge of the transport deck, staring out toward the endless expanse of the sea. The sky was pale with dawn, and mist rolled in slow spirals over the ocean's surface, blurring the horizon into nothingness. It felt…like they were heading into the unknown.
Luca approached from behind, dragging his duffel bag and wearing the same half-smirk he used to hide worry. He looked…determined.
"You really don't know how to take a vacation, do you?" he asked.
Eryndor didn't answer. He was watching the cargo drones lift off one by one, each humming with quiet precision. It felt…like they were being watched.
When Luca stopped beside him, Eryndor said, soft, "This isn't just a reconstruction site. It's…something else."
"Something else like what?"
He hesitated. "When the resonance collapsed, it didn't vanish. It scattered. The mirror array could be pulling the fragments back…together."
Luca frowned. "You think it's…alive."
"I think it's…awake."
He felt a chill run down his spine.
The journey took three hours. It felt…like an eternity.
They flew low over the sea, the water below rippling like molten glass. The sky above them glowed faint too bright for dawn, too dim for day. It felt…unnatural.
Luca watched the light pulse along the clouds, muttering, "Feels like flying through a heartbeat."
Eryndor didn't respond, but his hand rested light on the ship's console, as if grounding himself against something unseen. It felt…like he was trying to connect with the resonance.
When the outpost came into view, it looked almost peaceful a circle of white towers rising from the mist, surrounded by scaffolding, antennae that reached like skeletal fingers toward the sky. It felt…like a mirage.
But as they descended, the illusion fractured.
The air shimmered with residual distortion echoes of old energy. It felt…like they were walking into a trap.
Eryndor's pulse quickened. "It's still…active."
The pilot, a silent woman with silver-threaded gloves, glanced back. "You weren't told? The core never fully shut…down."
Luca groaned. "Fantastic. Nothing like working next to a half-dead god machine."
Eryndor ignored him