The morning air tasted sharper than usual, as if the city itself knew something important was about to shift. Lyria rose early, long before the others stirred, drawn awake by the faint pulses of warmth weaving beneath her skin. The spark hummed with steady confidence, no longer the skittish, unpredictable flame it had been when she first arrived at Stardawn Academy.
But today… today it felt different.
More focused.
More aware.
Almost as if it was preparing for something.
Lyria dressed quickly and stepped out into the soft blue of dawn. The training platforms, still empty, stretched overhead like floating mirrors catching the rising sun. Below, the city shimmered with gentle movement — sky rail lines glowing, early vendors setting up, soft chimes echoing across the layered bridges.
She inhaled deeply.
Another day. Another challenge.
Yesterday had ended on a rare moment of peace — the drones floating in perfect formation, Kairo's approval warming her more than she had expected, and the quiet certainty that she was beginning to belong here.
Today, though… the spark whispered warnings beneath the calm.
Lyria climbed the spiraling path up to the platforms, her fingers brushing the cool railing. She paused halfway, closing her eyes briefly.
"You feel it too, don't you?" she murmured to the spark.
A soft pulse flicked through her chest, neither anxious nor fearful — but alert.
"Great," she muttered. "Subtle messages. At least this time you're not exploding anything."
Her spark shimmered gently in reply, a soft reminder of how far they'd come.
When she reached the top platform, she found someone already there.
Kairo stood near the edge, hands clasped behind his back, posture tall and focused as the wind tugged lightly at his dark coat. The early light caught the faint metallic threads woven through the fabric, making him look almost part of the horizon.
He didn't turn when she approached — he only said, calmly:
"You're early."
"So are you," Lyria countered, stepping up beside him.
He glanced her way then, a knowing spark in his eyes. "I expected you to be. Yesterday was a breakthrough."
Lyria shrugged, though her cheeks warmed slightly. "I just wanted more time to practice."
"Not practice," Kairo corrected. "Integration. There's a difference."
She blinked. "Integration?"
"With your spark," he explained. "Its rhythm and yours are aligning. That takes clarity, not repetition."
Lyria's spark pulsed again — faintly agreeing to what he said.
She sighed. "You're both teaming up against me now?"
Kairo chuckled quietly. "Not against you. With you."
Before she could respond, footsteps echoed from the ramp. Another Mender — Renna — rushed up, breathless and wide-eyed.
"Kairo! There's been a security alert. Something happening near the East Barrier."
Kairo straightened instantly. "What level?"
"Level three. Unauthorized energy signatures beyond the outer perimeter."
Lyria frowned. "Unauthorized? Like… wild sparks?"
Renna shook her head. "Not natural. These signatures look controlled."
A heavy silence fell.
Controlled energy.
Outside the barrier.
That usually meant one thing:
Someone who shouldn't have spark powers… did.
And was using it.
Kairo's voice was calm, but Lyria didn't miss the tension underneath. "Who else knows?"
"Only the upper circle and team leads," Renna said. "But they're asking for an immediate response unit. They want you leading it."
Kairo nodded. "Understood. I'll assemble—"
Renna hesitated, glancing at Lyria. "The council requested something else too."
"What is it?" Kairo asked.
"They want her to come."
Lyria stiffened.
"Me?" she said. "Why?"
Renna's gaze softened. "Because the signature near the barrier… matched yours."
The world seemed to tilt.
Kairo immediately stepped forward, his tone protective. "That's impossible. Lyria has been under observation since she arrived. There's been no external surge."
"I know," Renna said quickly. "But the data is clear. The energy beyond the barrier carries the same imprint as her spark — distorted, but unmistakable."
Lyria felt her heartbeat thud painfully.
Another spark like hers?
A distortion… of her?
"But that doesn't make sense," she whispered. "How could there be another signature like mine?"
Kairo looked at her, eyes sharp with thought. "There shouldn't be. Your spark type is extremely rare."
Renna swallowed. "The council thinks… it might be connected to the anomaly that brought her here."
Lyria froze.
The anomaly — the strange light, the sudden pull, the moment her life had been uprooted and dropped into Stardawn. She had tried not to think about it, had pushed it aside in favor of learning how to survive here. But now…
Her spark trembled faintly, as if remembering the same moment.
Kairo saw it. "Lyria. Look at me."
She lifted her eyes.
"This doesn't mean danger," he said firmly. "It means information. A connection. And information gives us control."
Lyria swallowed hard. "So what do we do?"
"We investigate," Kairo answered.
Renna nodded. "The transport team is prepping already."
Lyria exhaled shakily. "Do I… have a choice?"
Kairo held her gaze. "Always. But if the signature truly links to your spark, you may be the only one who can make sense of it."
The spark pulsed gently — not fearful this time, but resolute.
"I guess that's a yes," Lyria murmured.
The ride to the East Barrier was quiet but tense. The floating transport glided quickly over the lower districts, cutting through morning mist and weaving between tall crystalline towers. Inside, Lyria sat with her hands pressed together, the spark humming anxiously beneath her palms.
Kairo stood nearby, analyzing data streams holographed in the air. Renna monitored the feed coming from scouts near the barrier.
Finally, Lyria spoke.
"What if it really is like mine?"
Kairo looked up. "Then we adapt."
"And if it's… not friendly?"
His answer was steady. "We protect you first. Understand?"
Lyria nodded, a mixture of fear and gratitude curling in her chest.
The transport slowed, descending toward a massive translucent wall stretching across the edge of the city — the East Barrier. It glowed with shifting blue lines, designed to repel storms, distort wild energy fields, and keep out anything unstable.
But today, the light flickered unevenly, like a heartbeat gone out of rhythm.
"That's not good," Renna muttered.
When the transport landed, a team of armored Menders approached. One of them — Captain Solen — gestured for them to follow.
"We've isolated the source," he reported, "but it's… strange."
"How strange?" Kairo asked.
Instead of answering, Solen led them to the viewing deck.
Beyond the barrier, the wasteland stretched endlessly — a quiet, shimmering desert of broken crystals and pale sand. But today something else was there.
A shape.
A person.
Standing in the shimmering dust.
Lyria's breath caught.
The figure was blurred by distortion, like a reflection viewed through water. Gold and silver light rippled around them, pulsing faintly in patterns she recognized.
Her spark pulsed hard, almost painfully.
No.
No, no, no—
Kairo stepped closer to the barrier glass, voice tense. "That's impossible."
Renna whispered, "It looks like—"
"Me," Lyria said quietly.
The figure lifted its head then, as if sensing them.
Even through the distortion, even through the barrier's flickering haze…
She saw it.
Her own eyes.
Her own stance.
Her own outline — not perfect, but eerily close.
Kairo's hand moved to her shoulder. "Lyria. Stay close."
Her heart hammered. "What… what is that?"
Solen answered grimly. "We were hoping you could tell us."
The figure took one slow step forward.
The barrier flickered harder.
Renna gasped. "It's reacting to the spark signature— the interference is destabilizing the field!"
"Back away," Solen ordered. "Now!"
But Lyria couldn't move.
Her spark surged, reaching out, pulling toward the figure like a magnetic pull.
"Lyria."
Kairo's voice cut through the chaos.
"Look at me. Focus. Breathe."
She tried. She really tried.
But then the figure lifted its hand.
And the barrier cracked.
A long, jagged fracture cut across the glowing surface, sending sparks scattering. The distortion grew louder, like a low, vibrating hum.
Solen shouted into his comm. "Emergency protocol! Reinforce the field!"
Crew members scrambled, rushing to stabilize the power cores. Alarms blared. Wind whipped through the observation deck as energy surged and twisted.
But Lyria barely heard any of it.
Because the spark within her wasn't afraid.
It was responding.
Calling.
Recognizing.
The figure on the other side tilted its head, mirroring her movement exactly — too exactly.
Like a reflection.
Like an echo.
Like another version of—
No.
She couldn't even finish the thought.
Kairo grabbed her by both shoulders. "Stay with me. Don't let the connection pull you."
She stared at him, her voice barely a whisper. "Kairo… what if it's connected to where I came from?"
His jaw tightened.
"Then we'll find answers. Together."
The barrier shattered.
A thunderous crack ripped through the deck. Light burst outward. Lyria threw her hands up as a wave of energy crashed directly into her chest.
Then—
Silence.
Weightlessness.
Cold.
A void.
She gasped, the spark flaring violently as if fighting something unseen. Her vision blurred as the world twisted sideways.
"Kairo?" she choked. "Renna?"
No answer.
Just ringing.
And static.
And… a presence.
Right in front of her.
She blinked, vision clearing enough to see—
The figure.
No haze.
No distortion.
Standing only a few steps away.
Close enough to see the details, the flickers of gold around their hands, the way their spark pulsed in time with hers.
But the face—
It wasn't perfectly hers.
It was like a blurred version — familiar but not exact.
As if shaped from memory, energy, and echo.
The figure spoke, voice soft and layered, like multiple tones woven together.
"Found you."
Lyria stumbled backward. "What— who—"
"Found you," it repeated.
Its hand reached out.
Her spark surged again, reacting wildly — not in fear, but recognition.
"No— stop!" Lyria shouted, raising her hands instinctively.
Gold arcs flared from her palms.
The figure responded instantly, its own energy rising in a perfect mirrored pattern.
The arcs collided.
A shockwave burst between them, knocking both backward.
Lyria hit the ground with a gasp, sparks scattering across the floor. She scrambled to her elbows, heart racing.
"What are you?" she whispered.
The figure steadied itself, tilting its head in the same way she did when confused.
"You," it said simply. "And not you."
Her breath hitched.
Kairo's voice suddenly echoed faintly somewhere behind her, calling her name.
The figure jerked its head toward the sound — then back to her.
Time was running out.
She could feel it.
Whatever this presence was, it wasn't fully stable. It flickered around the edges, unraveling slightly with each passing second.
"Wait!" Lyria shouted, desperation rising. "Why are you here? What do you want?"
The figure raised a hand again — but this time, not to attack.
Instead, it pressed its palm to its own chest, where the spark glowed brightest.
"Connection," it whispered. "Before the break."
Lyria froze. "The break? What break?"
The figure flickered violently, light scattering like shattered glass.
It forced out one last phrase — fractured but clear:
"More are coming."
Then it collapsed into a burst of light.
Lyria cried out as the energy scattered and dissolved into the air.
Kairo finally reached her, dropping to one knee, gripping her shoulders. "Lyria! Are you hurt?"
She shook her head, dazed. "I'm— I'm fine. But… did you see—?"
Renna skidded to a stop beside them, eyes wide. "The barrier's stabilizing… what happened? Where did it go?"
Lyria stared at the empty space where the figure had stood.
Not fear.
Not confusion.
Not even relief.
But a cold, twisting certainty:
That hadn't been an enemy.
Or an illusion.
Or a wild spark.
It had been a message.
A warning.
More are coming.
Her spark shivered softly against her ribs.
And Lyria knew — everything was about to change.