The notification arrived with the dawn.
[Trial in 24 Hours]
Lucien felt it like a weight settling onto his chest. Cold. Inevitable.
He stood at the window of his room in Marcus's brownstone, watching the sun rise over Brooklyn. The city was already stirring, cars on the street below, people heading to work, the hum of life continuing as if nothing had changed.
But for him, everything had.
Twenty-four hours.
He exhaled slowly and turned from the window.
Downstairs, the others were already awake.
The kitchen smelled of coffee and toast, but no one was eating much. Mira sat at the table with a mug in her hands, staring at nothing. Renan leaned against the counter, arms crossed, jaw tight. Osman sat in the corner in his wolf form, yellow eyes fixed on Lucien as he entered.
Marcus stood by the stove, pouring coffee he didn't drink.
"Morning," Lucien said quietly.
Mira looked up. Her eyes were shadowed, like she hadn't slept. "Morning."
No one else spoke.
Lucien poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down. The silence stretched, heavy and oppressive.
Finally, Marcus broke it.
"We don't know what will happen," he said. "But whatever it is... we'll be ready."
Renan nodded. "We stay close. All day. When it happens..."
"If I'm taken," Lucien interrupted, "there's nothing you can do."
"We'll find you," Mira said firmly.
Lucien met her gaze. He wanted to believe her. But the System's message was clear. This was his Trial. His alone.
Still, he nodded. "Alright."
The conversation died again.
Outside, the city moved on.
Inside, time slowed to a crawl.
The day passed in a haze of preparation.
Mira checked her equipment three times. Swords, daggers, armor, potions... everything laid out on her bed in neat rows. She inspected each piece methodically, her movements precise and controlled.
But her hands shook slightly when she thought no one was looking.
Renan meditated in his room, cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed. His breathing was steady, controlled. But the tension in his shoulders betrayed him.
Osman alternated between his human and wolf forms, testing the Lunar Veil's limits. Six hours human. Twenty-four hour cooldown. He was saving his time carefully... he'd need it after the Trial, not during.
Marcus spent the afternoon in his study, door closed. Lucien passed by once and heard the faint murmur of prayer.
And Lucien... Lucien sat in the small workshop Marcus had set up in the basement, sharpening Edge of the End.
The rhythmic scrape of whetstone on steel was meditative. Calming.
He worked slowly, carefully, until the blade gleamed like silver.
Then he tested Imperium's balance, spinning the dagger between his fingers, feeling its weight.
Everything was ready.
He just didn't know for what.
[Trial in 12 Hours]
Evening came.
Marcus called them all to his study.
The room was lined with bookshelves, filled with ancient texts and leather-bound volumes. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the walls.
"Sit," Marcus said.
They did.
Marcus remained standing, hands clasped behind his back. He looked older in the firelight. Tired.
"There's something I need to tell you," he said, looking at Lucien. "About the Founder."
Lucien straightened. "What about him?"
Marcus walked to his desk and pulled out a yellowed piece of parchment, carefully preserved behind glass. He set it on the table in front of Lucien.
"This," Marcus said quietly, "was written seven hundred years ago. By the Founder himself."
Lucien leaned forward, reading the old script.
"When Lucien de Mireval returns, he will not remember. Help him. Protect him. Guide him. And when the Twelve have fallen... tell him to come home."
Lucien's breath caught.
"He knew," Marcus said. "Not just that someone would come. He knew you would come. Your name. Your age. Even the mark you bear."
"How?" Lucien whispered.
"I don't know." Marcus's voice was heavy. "But he left instructions. Detailed ones. He described you perfectly. As if he'd seen you himself."
Mira frowned. "That's impossible."
"And yet," Marcus said, "here we are."
Lucien stared at the parchment, his mind racing. The Founder had known. Seven hundred years ago, he'd known Lucien would return.
But how?
"There's more," Marcus said.
He went to a small wooden cabinet in the corner and unlocked it with a key from his pocket. Inside was a single object, wrapped in cloth.
Marcus brought it back to the table and unwrapped it carefully.
A medallion. Silver, tarnished with age. The Jerusalem Cross was engraved on the front... five crosses forming one.
Marcus turned it over.
On the back, etched in worn script, were the words:
"Pour celui qui reviendra. Tu sauras quand le moment sera venu. L."
The second letter had faded completely, worn away by centuries.
"L," Lucien murmured, touching the inscription carefully. "Just... L."
"That's all that remains," Marcus said. "The rest was lost to time."
Lucien held the medallion, feeling its weight. It was warm in his hand, as if it had been waiting for him.
"He said to give this to you," Marcus continued, "before your first Trial."
Lucien looked up. "Why?"
"I don't know," Marcus admitted. "But he said you would understand when the time came."
Lucien stared at the medallion for a long moment, then slipped the chain over his head. The metal settled against his chest, hidden beneath his shirt.
It felt... right.
Marcus placed a hand on Lucien's shoulder. "Come back, Lucien. The Order needs you. We all do."
Lucien met his gaze and nodded.
[Trial in 6 Hours]
They gathered in the sitting room as night fell.
The fire crackled. No one spoke much.
Osman, in his human form now, sat near the hearth, staring into the flames. Renan cleaned his blades for the third time. Mira sat on the couch, fingers drumming restlessly on her knee.
Marcus poured drinks no one touched.
Finally, Renan broke the silence.
"So," he said, forcing a lightness into his voice. "We're really doing this, huh?"
Mira glanced at him. "Doing what?"
"Sitting here. Waiting for the universe to pull Lucien into gods-know-where to fight a monster from a cursed city."
Osman huffed a quiet laugh. "When you say it like that..."
"It sounds insane," Mira finished.
"It is insane," Renan said. He looked at Lucien. "But we're with you anyway."
Lucien's throat tightened. "I know."
"Good." Renan leaned back. "So... anyone got a good story to pass the time?"
Mira raised an eyebrow. "A story?"
"Yeah. You know. Lighten the mood before we all spiral into existential dread."
Osman smiled faintly. "I like this one."
Marcus shook his head, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes.
Mira sighed. "Fine. Renan, how about you tell us how we met?"
Renan grinned. "Oh, that's a good one."
And for a few precious minutes, they talked. Laughed, even. Renan told the story of how he'd first met Mira during a C-Rank rift in Paris... how she'd saved his life and then yelled at him for being reckless.
"She called me an idiot," Renan said, grinning.
"You were an idiot," Mira shot back, but there was warmth in her voice.
Osman shared a brief tale of Istanbul before he was lost under the Dome... of markets and music and a life he barely remembered.
Even Marcus contributed, speaking of his early days in the Order, when he'd thought the Founder was just a legend.
And for a moment, it felt almost... normal.
But then the System reminded them.
[Trial in 3 Hours]
The lightness faded.
Silence returned.
Midnight came and went.
[Trial in 1 Hour]
No one slept.
Mira sat in her room, holding the key-collar in her hands. She stared at it, thinking of her father. Of that night years ago. Of the Shadow Knight who'd taken everything.
"I'll kill him," she whispered. "For you, Father."
Renan stood at his window, looking out at the city. In his hand was a worn photograph... a young girl with dark hair and a bright smile.
His sister.
Dead three years now. Killed in a rift breakout.
He tucked the photo back into his wallet and tightened his jaw.
"I'll keep her safe," he murmured. "I promise."
Osman stood on the roof in his wolf form, staring up at the moon.
He thought of Old Jerusalem. Of the century he'd spent as a beast, alone, forgotten.
But not anymore.
He howled... softly, mournful, but also... hopeful.
Marcus knelt in his room, hands clasped in prayer.
"Lord," he whispered, "protect him. He carries a burden he doesn't yet understand. Guide him. Bring him home."
He crossed himself and rose.
Lucien stood alone on the roof, the medallion warm against his chest.
He stared south, toward the horizon, without knowing why.
"L," he murmured, touching the metal through his shirt. "Who are you?"
For a moment, he felt... something. A presence. Distant but watching.
And then it was gone.
[Trial in 30 Minutes]
He took a breath and went back inside.
They gathered in the sitting room as dawn broke.
The sky outside was grey, the city still waking.
[Trial in 10 Minutes]
Lucien checked his weapons one last time. Edge of the End at his hip. Imperium on his belt. The medallion hidden beneath his shirt.
He was ready.
As ready as he'd ever be.
Osman approached, placing a massive paw on Lucien's shoulder. His yellow eyes gleamed.
"Good hunt, brother," he rumbled.
Lucien nodded.
Mira stood. She didn't say anything. Just walked over and placed her hand briefly over his.
Their eyes met.
Then she stepped back.
Renan saluted, sharp and respectful.
Marcus made the sign of the cross.
[Trial in 5 Minutes]
The air grew heavy. Electric.
Lucien felt it building... pressure behind his eyes, in his chest, all around him.
The System pulsed in his mind like a heartbeat.
[Trial in 1 Minute]
He stood in the center of the room, hand on Edge of the End.
"Whatever happens," he said quietly, "merci. For everything."
[Trial in 30 Seconds]
The countdown appeared before his eyes.
30...
29...
28...
Mira took a step forward. "Lucien..."
20...
19...
18...
White light began to seep into the room, sourceless, blinding.
10...
9...
8...
"Lucien!" Mira shouted, running toward him...
5...
4...
3...
Her hand reached out...
2...
1...
[TRIAL COMMENCING...] [TRANSPORTING PARTICIPANT...]
The light exploded.
And Lucien vanished.
Mira fell to her knees where he'd stood, her hand grasping nothing but air.
"LUCIEN!"
Renan spun, searching the room frantically. "Where... where is he?!"
Osman howled, a raw, primal sound.
Marcus stood frozen, staring at the empty space. "He's... gone."
The room was silent, empty.
Lucien de Mireval had disappeared.
Lucien opened his eyes.
White.
Endless white in every direction.
No walls. No ceiling. No floor... just white, stretching infinitely.
He was standing, though he couldn't see what he stood on.
Alone.
Beneath the Dome of Jerusalem.
But not the Old Jerusalem he'd escaped. This was... something else.
The Trial Space.
[TRIAL SPACE: JERUSALEM DOME] [Objective: Eliminate Shadow Knight] [Failure Condition: Death] [Trial Space sealed until completion]
Lucien turned slowly, searching for... anything.
Nothing.
Just white. Silence. Emptiness.
And then... a sound.
A crack, like reality itself splitting open.
A rift appeared before him... a jagged tear in the white void, bleeding black smoke and crackling with dark energy.
Lucien's hand went to his sword.
A figure stumbled through the rift.
Tall. Armored in black steel. A tattered cloak of shadow trailing behind. A horned helm obscured the face, but one eye glowed faintly through the visor. Blue.
Pale, cold blue.
The Shadow Knight caught himself, disoriented, and looked around wildly.
"What... where...?!"
His voice was distorted, inhuman, but beneath it was something else. Confusion. Fury.
He spun, taking in the white void. "What IS this place?!"
Then his gaze landed on Lucien.
He froze.
"You."
Lucien said nothing. He drew Edge of the End slowly, the blade ringing softly as it left the sheath.
The Shadow Knight stared at him, then at the white void around them.
Realization dawned.
"The System... it pulled me OUT of Old Jerusalem?!"
His voice rose, trembling with rage.
"WHAT ARE YOU?!"
Lucien remained silent, settling into his stance.
The Shadow Knight's fists clenched. His voice dropped, venomous.
"The Master wants you alive. He wants you brought back. But me?"
He drew a massive blade from his back... black steel, jagged and cruel.
"I'm going to cut you into pieces and drag your corpse to his feet!"
Lucien's grip tightened on his sword.
The medallion against his chest pulsed once, warm.
The Shadow Knight roared and charged.
Lucien moved to meet him.
Their blades clashed with a sound like thunder.
And the Trial began.