The light had vanished.
Only the echo remained.
For three heartbeats, the world stood still.
Then the sky remembered what it had seen—and screamed.
Auroras bled across every hemisphere, colors bending into spirals no scientist could name.
Aether networks surged, power grids flickered, and machines whispered in languages they were never built to speak.
Everywhere, alarms began to sing.
⸻
ARCHIVE VESSEL ECLIPSE — COMMAND DECK
The crew moved in stunned silence.
Monitors still flickered with the last frame of Sarah Avelon's battle: her silhouette swallowed by light, then nothing.
Comik's hands trembled over the console. "Global relay feedback confirmed, sir. Half the Aether grid went blind for six seconds."
Vonix didn't look up. "Casualty reports?"
"None. Just… interference."
"Good." His tone was unreadable. "Seal the data. No transmissions. Not a whisper."
The bridge fell quiet again.
Outside the viewport, the aurora stretched across the horizon—an open wound glowing against the night.
Someone whispered, "It's beautiful."
Vonix replied softly, "So is every disaster before we understand it."
⸻
THE AETHER UNION — CENTRAL REPOSITORY
Far below the Equatorial Spire, hundreds of terminals blinked red.
Analysts shouted across rows of crystalline servers, tracing waveforms as fast as they appeared.
"Not possible—it's global!"
"Resonance levels are mirroring the First Pulse!"
"Who's broadcasting that frequency?"
The Director stepped forward, adjusting her collar. "Nobody's broadcasting," she said quietly. "The world is listening."
On her screen, seven graphs spiked simultaneously—one for each Crown territory.
Her eyes narrowed. "Contact the Crowns. They'll want to know who just rewrote their laws of energy."
⸻
AETHERION — SKY CITADEL
Wind howled through the open arches of the high chamber.
The Sky Sovereign stared at a projection of atmospheric currents, all spiraling from one point near Avelon.
"Crosswinds collapsing, leyfield inversion across the entire north," a minister reported.
"And the source?"
The answer came reluctantly. "Avelon Dynamics signature, sir. Sarah Avelon's."
The Sovereign's gaze sharpened. "After all this time… she returns by burning a hole through heaven itself."
Another minister hesitated. "Should we inform the Archive?"
The Sovereign smiled faintly. "Oh, I think they already know."
⸻
ISKRAL — FROST DOMINION
In the sub-zero silence of the Ice Crown's citadel, power conduits glowed faintly blue.
Engineers knelt by frozen circuits, tools steaming in their hands.
"Every Aether line surged at once," one whispered. "We nearly lost containment."
High above them, the Empress of Ice stood before a single monitor, watching the northern sky flicker with strange light.
"Old storms," she murmured. "And old names."
⸻
NEW DAWN STRONGHOLD — DEEP VAULT
The chamber was dark, lit only by the rhythmic pulse of seven crimson cores.
A technician knelt before the dais. "Recovered fragment from the strike team's transmission, my lord."
The figure on the throne extended a hand.
The fragment projected midair—static, distorted, then a glimpse: Sarah, standing in the storm, eyes lit with white fire.
The sound broke through once: She remembers.
The room fell silent.
"Begin preparation," the leader said.
"Awaken the Ascendant."
⸻
ARCHIVE TOWER — LOWER CHAMBER
Connor woke gasping. The lights above his bunk flickered between white and gold.
Deog sat nearby, surrounded by holo-screens and half-decoded data.
"It happened again," Connor whispered.
Deog didn't look up. "It didn't just happen here. The whole planet felt it. Every sensor lit up like a heartbeat."
Connor pressed his palm to his chest. The hum there answered faintly.
"Then maybe it was."
Before Deog could speak, the intercom tone cut through the static.
"Recruits Vale and Deog—report to the High Council Chamber."
Deog sighed. "What now?"
Connor's voice was quieter. "They're not calling us. They're calling whatever just woke up inside me."
⸻
BACK ABOARD THE ECLIPSE
Vonix stood alone before the viewport.
The aurora was fading, its colors thinning into the dark.
Comik approached slowly. "Every Crown's requesting confirmation. The Union's asking for access to our logs."
"Deny them all," Vonix said. "We can't let them know what it really was."
"And what was it, sir?"
Vonix watched the horizon one last time. "A memory. And a warning."
The faint hum of the Core echoed through the ship's hull, low and steady, like the beating of a distant heart.