The first sign that something had changed came with the rain. It felt…wrong.
It wasn't the gentle drizzle the Academy was used to.
This was different sheets of cold, silver rain that fell in straight, unwavering lines, each drop almost too perfect, too even, like the sky itself had been programmed to weep in symmetry. It felt…artificial.
Luca stood by the western window of the observatory, watching as the storm blurred the courtyard below. "It's beautiful," he murmured. "In a kind of…unsettling way."
He sounded…almost mesmerized.
Eryndor didn't answer at first. His reflection in the glass looked paler than usual, a faint shimmer tracing along the edge of his silhouette. It felt…like he was fading.
"It's not natural," he said, final. "Look closer the droplets don't fall, they descend. There's no wind resistance. No…weight."
He knew something was terribly wrong.
Luca leaned forward. "So…what, the rain's broken the laws of physics now?"
"Maybe not broken," Eryndor replied, quiet. "Maybe…rewritten."
He felt a chill run down his spine.
He turned away before Luca could respond, heading for the lower archives. It felt…like he was being called.
The hum of the corridor lights followed him a low, steady rhythm that matched the pulse beneath his ribs. It felt…like the resonance was taking over.
Soren was already there when they arrived. He looked…harried.
The usually composed doctor looked disheveled, his sleeves rolled up, hair damp with sweat. Several holographic panels hovered in the air around him, flickering with unstable data streams. It felt…like he was losing control.
"Tell me you see it too," he said the moment they entered. He sounded…almost desperate.
"The rain?" Eryndor asked.
Soren shook his head. "Not just the rain. The entire environmental grid is looping. Every sensor reading in the perimeter network shows identical values temperature, humidity, barometric pressure all locked in a constant pattern. Like the world's been put on…pause."
He looked…terrified.
Luca frowned. "Could it be a system glitch?"
Soren laughed, humorless. "If only. No, this isn't a malfunction. It's spreading from a single origin point right beneath the southern valley."
He knew they were facing something far more dangerous.
Eryndor's gaze sharpened. "The Resonance Fields."
"Exactly. Whatever stabilized the Veil, it's starting to manifest physically now. The storm, the symmetry, the static energy it's the world trying to equalize itself."
He sounded…resigned.
Luca crossed his arms. "That doesn't sound like a bad thing."
"Equilibrium sounds noble until it means nothing moves," Soren said, dark. "We're standing on the edge of a perfect stillness. Life doesn't survive in…stillness."
He knew that they were facing the end of everything.
Eryndor glanced toward the nearest monitor, tracing the pulse lines with his eyes. The readings were flawless too flawless. No variance, no noise. It felt…unnatural.
A world without noise, he thought.
A heartbeat that never skips.
Perfection that kills the pulse of life.
He felt a surge of dread.
By noon, the storm had stopped but the silence that followed was worse. It felt…like the world was holding its breath.
Birds didn't return. The usual rustle of leaves in the courtyard was absent. Even the wind felt absent, replaced by a faint static hum that seemed to come from nowhere, everywhere at once. It felt…like the world was dying.
Students whispered in the halls, their voices muffled as if the air swallowed sound itself. The Academy felt like a painting motionless, suspended. It felt…like they were trapped in a dream.
Eryndor stood near the gate, staring toward the southern horizon where the valley stretched into fog. He could see faint lines of light glowing across the ridges patterns like veins, pulsing in rhythm with his own heartbeat. It felt…like he was being called.
"Luca," he said, soft. "Do you feel that?"
Luca closed his eyes. "It's like standing near a thunderstorm but the charge never…releases."
He sounded…uneasy.
"Exactly."
The pulse grew stronger as they walked toward the valley, boots sinking into damp soil. It felt…like they were walking into a trap.
Every few steps, the light beneath the ground seemed to respond as if acknowledging them. It felt…like they were being watched.
When they reached the ridge, the view stole their breath. It felt…like they were seeing the end of the world.
Below them, the southern basin shimmered in silver light. It felt…like they were looking into a mirror.
Every blade of grass, every droplet of water, every stone reflected the same mirrored glow each vibrating faint in sync, forming an enormous lattice that stretched for miles. It felt…like everything was connected.
"What in the…world" Luca whispered.
He was speechless.
"It's no longer just resonance," Eryndor said, quiet. "It's becoming…geometry."
He felt a chill run down his spine.
They stood there for a long while, the windless air pressing against them like glass. It felt…like they were being suffocated.
The lattice shifted again, faint ripples spreading outward from a single central node a black obelisk of stone, half-buried and pulsing faint blue. It felt…like it was the source of everything.
Soren's voice crackled through the comm-link. "Eryndor, Luca, get out of there. The readings are spiking unprecedented…amplitude."
He sounded…desperate.
Eryndor didn't move. He felt the hum resonate through his bones. It felt…like he was becoming one with the resonance.
"It's not hostile," he murmured. "It's…calling."
"Calling what?" Luca asked, alarm rising in his tone.
He was worried about Eryndor.
Before Eryndor could answer, the obelisk's glow intensified. It felt…like it was about to explode.
A ring of light expanded outward silent, blinding and in that instant, the world fractured. It felt…like reality was breaking apart.
It wasn't an explosion. It was rearrangement.
It was something far more subtle, and terrifying.
The valley split into mirrored reflections of itself, infinite copies spiraling outward like shards of a broken lens. It felt…like they were seeing all the possibilities, and all the horrors, of the universe.
For a moment, they could see everything every possible version of the landscape, repeating endless in perfect alignment. It felt…like they were being given a glimpse of eternity.
Then, as quick as it appeared, the vision collapsed. The air snapped back, and they were standing once more on solid ground but the hum had changed. It felt…like something had been lost.
It was no longer rhythmic. It stuttered. It felt…broken.
Soren's voice was frantic over the comm. "Eryndor! Respondwhat just happened?"
He was losing control.
Eryndor touched his temple, trying to steady the ringing in his skull. "The world…duplicated," he said, hoarse. "For a second, it wasn't one world it was…thousands."
He felt like he had seen too much.
Soren's silence lasted too long before he finally said, "Then it's…begun."
He knew that they were facing the end of everything.
Night fell faster than usual, as though the horizon itself wanted to hide. It felt…like the world was trying to protect itself.
The Academy sealed its gates. Emergency wards flickered to life, painting the walls in soft gold light. It felt…like they were preparing for a siege.
Eryndor sat alone on the upper terrace, rainwater dripping steady from the railing. It felt…like he was waiting for the end of the world.
The sky had cleared, but the stars above looked wrong slightly misaligned, as if someone had shifted the pattern of the heavens by half a degree. It felt…like the universe was out of joint.
He didn't need Soren's data to know what it meant.
The fracture in the valley wasn't localized it was spreading upward, into the fabric of the world itself. It felt…like they were running out of time.
Luca joined him quiet, sitting beside him on the damp stone. He looked…worried.
"Still trying to make sense of it?" he asked.
Eryndor nodded. "Everything that exists wants balance. But if the Veil's resonance spreads unchecked, it'll balance everything light, dark, life, death. No difference…left."
He knew that they were facing a force that threatened to erase everything they knew.
Luca leaned back, looking at the warped constellations. "So the universe is becoming a…mirror."
"Yes. And mirrors don't think. They only…reflect."
He felt a surge of hopelessness.
For a while, neither spoke. It felt…like they were the only two people left in the world.
The faint hum of the Veil continued beneath the night, steady but unstable. It felt…like it was always there, waiting.
The sound of it lodged deep in Eryndor's chest like a second heartbeat one he didn't fully control. It felt…like he was being invaded.
Finally, Luca said, soft, "Then we'll have to break the mirror before it finishes copying…us."
He sounded…determined.
Eryndor turned toward him. "And if breaking it means…breaking me?"
He knew he might have to sacrifice himself to save the world.
Luca met his gaze without flinching. "Then we'll find another way. That's what we…do."
He wasn't going to let Eryndor face this alone.
The night wind finally stirred just once and the air moved again. It wasn't much, but it was enough to remind them that the world, though trembling, was still…alive. It felt…like there was still hope.
The valley did not wait for dawn. It felt…urgent.
By the time the first light touched the horizon, the fracture was already pulsing again slow, methodical, alive. It felt…like it was growing stronger.
The mirrored lattice beneath the ground throbbed faint, every vibration sending ripples of energy that distorted the air like invisible heat. It felt…like the world was being pulled apart.
Eryndor, Luca stood at the edge of the rift, their silhouettes framed by the shifting glow. It felt…like they were standing on the edge of a precipice.
Behind them, the rest of the Academy forces had pulled back, leaving only the two of them