The siren wailing over the city of Ignis was unlike any alarm Simon had ever heard. It wasn't a mechanical shriek or a bell; it was a guttural, throbbing horn blast produced by superheated air being forced through massive obsidian tubes embedded deep in the volcano's walls. It didn't just warn of danger; it commanded war. The very stone of the guest quarters vibrated with the sound, rattling the iron frame of the window Simon and Peace stood beside.
Above the crater, the sky had torn open. The rift wasn't a clean line; it was a festering wound in reality, leaking a thick, oily darkness that seemed to stain the angry red clouds of the Dragon Nest. From this abyss poured the vanguard of the Void King's aerial legion: Void Wyverns.
They were skeletal mockeries of the majestic dragons that ruled these peaks. Their wings were tattered membranes of shadow-smoke, their bodies dripping with black ichor that hissed and popped when it hit the hot volcanic rock below. They shrieked as they dove a sound like tearing metal that set Simon's teeth on edge and made the scales on his chest itch with anticipation.
"They're diving for the vents," Peace observed, her voice eerily calm amidst the chaos. She was buckling her scale armor with practiced efficiency, cinching the straps tight. "They want to choke the heat. If they drop enough Shadow-Bombs into the main caldera, they can cool the magma crust. If the magma cools, our geothermal defenses fail, and the city loses its power."
"Then we don't let them reach the vents," Simon growled. He turned to the heavy iron door just as it burst open.
Evelyn and Joanna rushed in. Joanna looked surprisingly alert, the adrenaline of imminent battle temporarily overriding the dry air sickness that had plagued her since their arrival. Evelyn already had her hands glowing with Starlight, her face set in a grim line of determination.
"What is happening?" Evelyn asked, looking out the window at the swarming black shapes blotting out the volcano's glow. "Are those... dead dragons?"
"Corrupted," Peace corrected, grabbing a heavy iron spear from a rack on the wall and testing its balance. "They are the husks of lesser dragons who fell in the First War. The Void reanimates them. They have no fire, only cold. Infinite, rotting cold."
"We need to get to the King," Simon said, sliding Wave-Cutter into the sheath on his back. The sharkskin hilt felt reassuringly cool against his feverish skin. "If they breach the keep—"
"My father can handle himself," Peace snapped, throwing a spare short-sword to Simon. "We have our own sector. The West Wall. It guards the civilian forges. If that wall falls, the smiths die, and we lose our ability to repair weapons. Move!"
The journey to the West Wall was a chaotic sprint through a city preparing for siege. Dragon warriors massive men and women with skin like bronze and eyes like fire rushed past them, carrying buckets of liquid magma and massive ballista bolts tipped with glowing red crystals.
The heat was oppressive, heavy with sulfur and ash, but the approaching cold from above was worse. As the Void Wyverns circled lower, a sleet of black ice began to fall, sizzling as it hit the hot streets, creating a fog of toxic steam.
They reached the ramparts of the West Wall just as the first wave struck.
"INCOMING!" a sentry screamed from the watchtower.
Three Wyverns dove in a V-formation, opening their maws to spew streams of black frost. The cold hit the obsidian battlements, shattering the stone instantly with the sound of a gunshot.
"Shields!" Simon roared.
He didn't wait for the soldiers. He stepped forward, raising his left hand. The "Second Pull" flared in his gut. He couldn't summon water here the air was too dry but he could summon the memory of pressure.
He created a barrier of compressed air, a shimmering dome that deflected the frost blast. It held for a second, groaning under the magical weight, then shattered.
"Too weak, Wolf!" Peace shouted. She leaped onto the parapet, her flame-whip cracking. "BURN!"
She lashed out. The whip extended fifty feet, wrapping around the neck of the lead Wyvern. With a roar of effort, she yanked. The beast crashed into the wall, its smoky form dissolving as the fire consumed it, leaving nothing but a stain of ichor.
"Starlight!" Joanna yelled, pointing to the right flank. "They're flanking us!"
A dozen smaller shadow-creatures—gargoyles made of smoke and hate—were climbing the walls, bypassing the main gate.
Evelyn stepped up. She closed her eyes and clapped her hands together.
FLASH.
A pulse of blinding white light exploded outward. It washed over the climbing shadows. They didn't dissolve immediately, but they screamed and slowed down, their forms becoming solid enough to hit.
"Now, Fish!" Peace ordered, pointing at the stunned gargoyles.
Joanna spun her trident. "Don't call me Fish."
She thrust the weapon forward. The hydration collar around her neck pulsed blue, sacrificing its moisture reserves to power her strike. A concentrated beam of pressurized water shot from the trident tips. In the intense heat of the volcano, the water turned into a high-velocity jet of superheated steam.
It hit the gargoyles like a laser, slicing them in half.
"Nice aim," Simon grunted, decapitating a shadow that had made it over the wall with Wave-Cutter. The sword hummed, drinking in the Void energy and neutralizing it.
For ten minutes, the four of them held the line. It was a brutal, seamless dance. Simon was the anchor, using his Tribrid strength to hold the physical line. Peace was the artillery, blasting anything in the air. Evelyn was the support, blinding enemies and shielding the group. Joanna was the precision striker, taking out high-value targets.
But the Void was endless.
"There are too many!" Evelyn shouted, ducking behind a battlement as a Wyvern raked the stone with its claws. "They just keep coming!"
"They're distracting us," Simon realized, his eyes scanning the battlefield. He switched his vision to thermal, the world turning into shades of blue and orange.
The Wyverns were attacking the wall, yes. But the main force... the main force was ignoring the city. They were circling high above, gathering in a dark cloud directly over the central lava lake.
"Peace!" Simon grabbed the Dragon Heir's arm, his grip bruising. "Look up! They aren't trying to breach the walls. They're forming a frost-bomb!"
Peace looked up. Her eyes went wide.
High above, hundreds of Wyverns were circling in a tight spiral. They were vomiting black ice into a central point, creating a massive, growing sphere of frozen Void energy. It was already the size of a house.
"If they drop that into the magma lake..." Peace whispered, her face paling beneath the soot. "The thermal shock will crack the volcano. The entire city will slide into the pit."
"We have to stop it," Joanna said, looking at the distance. "It's too high for my trident. Too high for your whip."
"And too dark for my light," Evelyn added, her voice trembling.
Simon looked at the sphere. It was descending slowly, heavy with malice.
"I can reach it," Simon said.
The three girls looked at him.
"You can't fly, Simon," Evelyn said.
"No," Simon agreed. The gold scales on his chest began to glow brighter than they ever had before, radiating heat. "But I can jump. And I can roar."
"It's suicide," Peace said, gripping his arm. "That sphere is pure Void. If you get close to it, it will drain you dry before you can even open your mouth."
"Then I need a boost," Simon said. He looked at Peace. "I need you to supercharge me. Give me every ounce of fire you have."
He looked at Joanna. "I need you to shield my skin. Use the last of your water magic to create a steam barrier so I don't burn up from Peace's fire."
He looked at Evelyn. "And I need you to light the way. Blind the Wyverns so they don't see me coming."
The plan was insane. It relied on three conflicting magics working in perfect harmony on a vessel that was barely holding itself together.
"Do it," Simon commanded. "Now!"
Peace didn't argue. She placed both hands on Simon's back. "Don't die, Mongrel."
She pushed. A torrent of liquid fire flowed from her palms into Simon's spine. It was agony. Simon screamed as his blood literally boiled, his veins glowing gold under his skin.
Joanna placed her hands on his chest. "Cooling shield... active." She pushed the last of her moisture reserves into a shimmering blue aura that wrapped around his skin, hissing furiously as it met the fire.
Evelyn stepped back, raising her hands to the sky. "GUIDING LIGHT!"
A beam of pure Starlight shot from her hands, illuminating a path straight up to the frost sphere, cutting through the smog of war.
Simon crouched. The energy inside him was critical. He felt like a nuclear bomb seconds before detonation. The Wolf howled. The Dragon roared. The Ocean crashed.
He jumped.
He didn't just leap; he launched. The stone rampart shattered beneath his boots, creating a crater ten feet wide. He shot into the air like a golden missile, riding the beam of Starlight.
The Wyverns shrieked, diving to intercept him.
"Oh no you don't!" Peace shouted from the ground. She whipped her flame-lash into the air, catching two Wyverns by the tails and yanking them down.
Simon flew higher. The air grew thin. The cold of the frost-sphere hit him. It tried to seep into his bones, but Joanna's steam shield held, hissing angrily.
He was fifty feet from the sphere. Thirty. Ten.
He could see the swirling shadows inside. He could feel the hunger of the Void trying to eat his soul.
He reached the center of the Wyvern circle.
Simon opened his mouth. He didn't just summon the fire. He summoned the Tribrid.
He channeled the immense pressure of the Ocean to compress the Fire of the Dragon, and he used the Wolf's vocal cords to project it.
"DRACARYS-AQUA!"
The roar that left his mouth wasn't a sound. It was a beam of concentrated, plasma-like energy. It was blue-white, hotter than the surface of the sun.
It hit the frost sphere.
CRACK-BOOM.
The collision of absolute heat and absolute cold resulted in a thermal explosion that shook the foundations of the world.
The frost sphere shattered. The shockwave vaporized the circling Wyverns instantly. A ring of white fire expanded outward, clearing the sky of clouds, shadows, and ash.
Simon, caught in the center of the blast, was thrown downward. He fell like a meteor, his shield gone, his energy spent. He was unconscious before he even started to drop.
"SIMON!" Evelyn screamed.
He plummeted toward the city, straight toward the lava lake.
"I can't reach him!" Peace yelled, trying to summon a wind gust, but she was drained.
"I can," a deep voice boomed.
From the Royal Keep, a massive shape launched itself into the air. It wasn't a Wyvern. It was a true Dragon.
King Marcus, in his full, shifted form—a colossal beast of bronze scales and fire—dove. He caught Simon in his massive claws just fifty feet above the magma.
The King flared his wings, banking hard to slow his descent, and landed heavily on the main plaza of the Keep.
Evelyn, Peace, and Joanna were already running. They reached the plaza just as Marcus gently laid Simon on the stone.
Simon wasn't moving. His clothes were gone, burned away by the blast. His skin was a patchwork of gold scales, blue burns, and human flesh. He was smoking.
Evelyn fell to her knees beside him, her hands hovering over his chest. "He's not breathing. His heart... I can't feel his heart."
"He burned it out," Peace whispered, horror dawning on her face. "He used too much. He burned his own life force."
Joanna pushed past them. She placed her ear to Simon's chest. She listened.
"No," Joanna said, lifting her head. Her eyes were wide. "He didn't burn it out. He... shifted it."
"What?" Evelyn cried.
"Listen," Joanna commanded.
They leaned in.
It wasn't a heartbeat. Thump-thump.
It was a slow, rhythmic grinding sound. Like stones rolling in the tide. Like magma cooling.
Cr-runch. Shhh-wash. Cr-runch.
"His biology is rewriting itself," King Marcus rumbled, shifting back to his human form. He stood over them, naked but unashamed, looking at the boy. "He took the blast of a thermal star into his body. The Wolf died. The Tribrid is being born for real this time."
"What do we do?" Evelyn asked, tears streaming down her face.
"We wait," Marcus said. "We put him in the Healing Springs. It is the only place where Fire and Water meet naturally. If he wakes up, he will be a King. If he doesn't..."
He didn't finish the sentence.
They moved him to the Healing Springs a series of natural pools deep within the mountain where underground aquifers met volcanic vents. The water was warm, rich in minerals.
They laid Simon in the central pool. He floated there, suspended.
Three days passed.
The Void army had retreated, broken by the blast. The city of Ignis was rebuilding. But in the quiet cavern of the springs, time stood still.
Evelyn sat by his head, humming a Starlight lullaby.
Joanna sat by his feet, keeping the water circulating with gentle currents.
Peace paced the perimeter, her flame-whip coiled at her hip, daring death to come back for him.
On the fourth morning, the water in the pool began to glow.
It wasn't the gold of the Dragon. It wasn't the teal of the Wolf. It wasn't the blue of the Ocean.
It was White. Pure, prismatic, diamond white.
Simon's eyes snapped open.
They didn't have pupils. They were pools of swirling, liquid starlight.
He sat up. The water cascaded off his chest. The scars were gone. The burns were gone.
In the center of his chest, right over his heart, a new mark had appeared. It was a perfect triangle. Top point Gold. Bottom left Blue. Bottom right Teal. And in the center, a swirling vortex of White.
He looked at the three girls. He didn't look confused. He looked ancient.
"The Eye," Simon said, his voice echoing as if three people were speaking at once. "I saw it again."
"Simon?" Evelyn whispered, reaching out.
Simon took her hand. His touch wasn't hot or cold. It was perfect equilibrium.
"It's coming," Simon said. "The Watcher wasn't destroyed. It was blinded. And now... now the Void King is coming himself."
He stood up, stepping out of the pool. He looked at Peace. "I need armor. Something that won't melt."
He looked at Joanna. "I need a map of the Abyssal Ley Lines."
He looked at Evelyn. "And I need you to send a message to my father. Tell him to gather the packs. Tell him the Tribrid is coming home."
"Home?" Peace asked, crossing her arms. "You think you can fight the Void King in the woods?"
"No," Simon said, a grim smile touching his lips. "We aren't fighting him in the woods. We aren't fighting him in the ocean. Or the mountain."
He pointed up.
"We are going to the Source. We are going to the Void."