The morning haze was dense, a gray veil smeared across the Academy's towers, but inside the Lockdown Chamber, the air thrummed with energy. Stage Three had settled into a volatile equilibrium, but Sandra could feel it pressing at the edges—her senses sharper, her reflexes faster, her instincts aligned to a level that frightened even her.
Tristan stood rigid, silver eyes flicking across every shadowed corner of the chamber. His claws gleamed faintly in the golden light, each movement precise, measured, controlled. Sebastian's form, in contrast, was fluid, ready to strike in a heartbeat. His amber-gold eyes never left Sandra, reading the tiniest shifts in her pulse, her breathing, her energy.
Lyra hovered near the rune panel, her expression taut with tension. "The Council has dispatched hybrid specialists. They know the Lockdown Chamber exists and are preparing to breach with precision attacks. Not one step can fail."
Sandra exhaled sharply, shoulders tightening. "Are they—are they faster than the last wave?"
"Faster," Tristan confirmed, his voice calm but lethal. "Stronger. More focused."
"And smarter," Sebastian added. "They know about Stage Three now. They'll aim for your weaknesses, Sandra."
A distant hum reached their ears—a frequency that made the golden sigils along the walls flare violently. Sandra felt it vibrate inside her chest, resonating with her heartbeat, with the Stage Three currents coiling in her veins.
"They're here," Lyra whispered.
Before anyone could react, the eastern corridor's wall shimmered, a ripple like water breaking the surface. Through it, three Council specialists emerged—hybrids enhanced for infiltration and suppression. Their eyes glowed faintly, energy crackling along their limbs. Each carried devices designed to dampen, distort, or sever resonance flows.
Tristan growled low, moving instinctively to Sandra's left. "No one breaches here."
Sebastian mirrored him, blocking her right side. His muscles coiled, tail flicking, ready to spring.
Sandra inhaled sharply, energy lancing through her limbs. Stage Three surged, responding to threat and proximity, integrating instinct, emotion, and raw power. Her senses split along multiple planes—seeing the specialists' every movement before they made it, feeling their intent as vibrations in the air, hearing their energy signatures as distinct tones.
The first hybrid lunged, weapons humming with dampening fields. Sandra's hands rose, golden threads of energy coiling outward, intersecting with Tristan's silver arcs and Sebastian's flowing strikes. The lattice formed a living shield, intercepting disruptor pulses and neutralizing incoming attacks.
Stage Three had begun to manifest physically. Her muscles tensed, sinews coiling with unnatural strength. Golden veins shimmered faintly beneath her skin, following the pulse of the sigils. A low hum resonated from her core, an instinctive echo of power that even Tristan and Sebastian could feel.
The second specialist aimed for a flank, moving silently with calculated precision. Tristan intercepted first, claws cutting silver arcs, while Sandra extended her energy lattice to ensnare the intruder. Sebastian's speed allowed him to collapse the specialist's balance in an instant.
Lyra's voice was steady, authoritative. "Focus on control, not force. Stage Three is reactive, but it will punish overreach."
Sandra adjusted instinctively, weaving her lattice into intricate patterns, each thread a response to a predicted attack. The chamber responded, sigils pulsing brighter, reinforcing her defenses, amplifying reflexes, and integrating energy into controlled bursts.
The third hybrid made a direct assault, devices aimed at severing resonance. Sandra felt a jolt of anticipation—danger converging—and reacted instinctively. Golden energy flared, coiling around her, lashes of power striking with precision. Stage Three responded beyond conscious thought, integrating reflex and instinct into a singular motion. The specialist faltered, energy destabilized, forcing them back.
Tristan's claws struck with surgical efficiency, neutralizing the hybrid's counterattack. Sebastian moved like liquid fire, intercepting any remaining threats with instinctive grace. The triad bond pulsed visibly, energy flowing between them, each action reinforcing the others.
Sandra felt the Stage Three resonance pushing further—her senses stretched to extremes, her muscles tingling, energy coiling like living wires beneath her skin. She felt a strange warmth along her lower abdomen, a subtle but undeniable shift tied to the next stage of awakening.
Lyra's voice pierced the chamber, calm but firm. "Sandra—do not resist the change. Stage Three will integrate physically. You must channel it through the triad bond."
She inhaled sharply, energy surging, golden currents expanding outward, encasing Tristan and Sebastian in a protective lattice that moved with the rhythm of their combined heartbeats.
Tristan's silver eyes locked on hers. "Breathe. Match us."
Sebastian's amber-gold voice joined. "Anchor. Flow. Control."
Energy harmonized, Stage Three currents stabilizing, flowing outward in precise arcs. The three specialists staggered, destabilized by the coordinated lattice and triad resonance.
One of the intruders, desperate, attempted a direct strike at Sandra's torso. Golden threads lashed out, intercepting, ensnaring, and redirecting the force back toward the hybrid. Tristan's claws met the aggressor in tandem, while Sebastian's instinctive strikes finished the disruption sequence.
The chamber trembled, pulsing, recognizing Sandra not only as a Primordial heir but as a fully reactive, Stage Three conduit. Her body responded with subtle physical shifts—muscles contracting with augmented power, reflexes honed to inhuman precision, senses perceiving the intruders as extensions of her own awareness.
Lyra observed silently, voice low but reverent. "She's evolving faster than any previous heir. The physical manifestation of Stage Three is now integrated with the triad bond. Every strike, every reaction, flows from instinct and connection."
Sandra exhaled sharply, golden currents flickering, energy settling but ready. Tristan's hand brushed hers briefly—a grounding touch. Sebastian mirrored it on the other side, a silent affirmation. Their presence anchored her, not just emotionally, but physiologically, harmonizing her awakening.
The remaining specialists, seeing their attempts fail, retreated into a shimmered portal, energy distortions swallowing them whole. The Lockdown Chamber's sigils dimmed slightly, pulsing gently in tune with Sandra's steadying heartbeat.
Lyra exhaled. "The Council will escalate. Their next wave will involve hybrid suppression units capable of interfering directly with Stage Three. You must be ready, Sandra."
Sandra looked between Tristan and Sebastian, feeling the warmth of their presence, the grounding certainty of their bond. Her body still hummed with raw Stage Three power, but now she understood the symbiosis: triad bond plus resonance plus instinctive anchoring. Together, they were not just defenders—they were amplifiers of each other's strength.
Tristan's voice was steady, controlled. "They'll come again. And we'll be ready."
Sebastian's gaze softened, fierce but protective. "And we'll survive. Stage Three or not, no one takes her while we're here."
Sandra's pulse slowed, golden veins dimming slightly as her body settled into temporary equilibrium. Stage Three had revealed new capabilities: physical augmentation, enhanced reflexes, integrated instinct, and subtle premonitions of movement. But she knew this was only the beginning.
The Council's edge had tested her—and failed. But the warning was clear: the next encounter would be sharper, faster, and more calculated.
Outside the chamber, the shadows of the Academy shifted. Stage Three had awakened within her, physical and psychic, and the triad bond had stabilized enough to repel attacks—but each pulse reminded Sandra that survival would require constant vigilance, unity, and absolute control.
The storm was far from over. The Council's specialists would return. Stage Three would continue to evolve. And the triad—Sandra, Tristan, Sebastian—would need to push past instinct, beyond fear, and into a level of coordinated power none of them had yet experienced.
Inside the Lockdown Chamber, the golden sigils pulsed gently, a heartbeat echoing the unsteady, thrilling rhythm of Stage Three.
Sandra whispered, voice low but determined: "Let them come."