As the gathering went on Lys saw himself walking among people who loved him ,who were like him.
He exchanged a few greetings with some of the lesser incarnations
" Hope you like here" the old incarnation asked
" Yh it's making feel like home " Lys answered
" Well it ain't that bad " Elda cut in
"Where is Nyra " Lys asked
"She's playing with the kids" looking over at where she was
Lys felt a sense of guilt after looking at the children thinking to himself
" What could have made them live this life "
The old incarnation knew his thoughts and told him
" They didn't choose this life they were forced to live it "
Lys looked at him with confusion
The old incarnation explained they way an incarnation is formed through three ways
Natural
Hybrid
Chosen
He explained that incarnations that are natural are born with their powers but have not mastered them
The second is a mixture done by the GAPA organization who take normal human beings and perform a ritual for the process, some loose their life during the process and the others come as finished products
As he was about to explain the last one, a loud boom came from the furthest part of the place
The incarnations were starteld by the explosion.
Lys feels it first—a pressure moving against the natural correction of the space.
Not Eclipse.
Not Warden tech.
Something willful.
Something angry.
Rafael's smile fades.
"Yeah…" he mutters.
"There it is."
Stone near the basin's edge begins to vibrate.
Not from force.
From misalignment.
Aetherium flow twists inward, sharp and jagged, like a blade cutting against the grain of reality.
Several Incarnations turn at once.
Nyra's jaw tightens.
"That idiot actually came."
He steps forward from a warped fold in space.
Tall.
Lean.
Eyes glowing a dull, fractured amber.
His presence doesn't stabilize the area.
It corrupts it.
"So," he says,
"this is the correction problem everyone's whispering about."
He looks directly at Lys.
And smiles.
Anika stiffens.
"That's Kareth," she says quietly.
"Incarnation Type: Distortion."
"He doesn't harmonize with Aetherium."
"He forces it."
Kareth rolls his neck lazily.
"Still spreading fear with technical terms, Anika?"
He takes another step.
Kareth's gaze never leaves Lys.
"You're dangerous," he says.
"Not because you're strong."
"Because you're telling the world power should be restrained."
Lys remains still.
"Power that can't be controlled destroys itself."
Kareth laughs.
"That's the lie they fed you."
"We weren't chosen to correct."
"We were chosen to rule."
Several Incarnations bristle.
Valerius's hand rests on his sword.
But he doesn't draw.
Not yet.
Kareth raises one hand.
A ripple of distortion surges toward Lys—fast, surgical, designed to unravel his internal flow.
Rafael moves.
Too slow.
Lys steps forward instead.
The distortion hits Lys head-on.
For a heartbeat—
Nothing happens.
Then the wave collapses.
Not pushed back.
Not overpowered.
Invalidated
Aetherium Reversion pulses outward in a tight ring.
Kareth staggers.
His smile flickers.
Just for a second.
"Interesting," Kareth says softly.
"You don't resist."
"You erase."
The basin groans.
Several Incarnations back away instinctively.
Not from Lys.
From what Kareth might do next.
Nyra steps forward, power humming under her skin.
"This is neutral ground."
Kareth scoffs.
"Neutrality is cowardice."
He looks around.
"You're all hiding."
"While humans build cages."
"While the Eclipse evolves."
His eyes return to Lys.
"And then you show up and tell them to calm down."
Kareth steps back into the warped space.
But before vanishing, he leaves a scar in the air—deliberate.
A mark.
A challenge.
"When the world burns again," he says,
"don't correct it."
"Own it."
He disappears.
The distortion lingers for several seconds before Lys unconsciously corrects it.
Silence follows.
Heavy.
Rafael exhales hard.
"Yeah… that guy's a problem."
Valerius finally speaks.
"He will side with no one."
"But he will escalate everything."
Anika looks at Lys.
"He felt threatened."
"That means you're already changing the balance."
Lys watches the place where Kareth stood.
Claws twitch—then relax.
"If he forces reality," Lys says quietly,
"then he'll eventually tear himself apart."
Nyra nods.
"Unless he tears the world first."