The sanctuary breathed.
That was the only way Daniella could describe it.
The ancient chamber no longer felt like a static place carved from stone, but like a living organism slowly waking after centuries of dormancy. The engraved symbols along the circular walls pulsed rhythmically, their glow syncing with her heartbeat. Each thrum sent a faint vibration through the floor, rising up her legs and settling deep in her chest.
She stood at the center of the room, barefoot on the cold stone, palms open, afraid to clench her fingers.
Light slipped from her skin anyway.
Thin filaments of gold drifted upward like embers, dissolving before they reached the ceiling.
— You're leaking again, Pyra said, her voice sharp but not unkind.
Daniella flinched.
— I'm not doing it on purpose.
— I know, Pyra replied. That's the problem.
Around them, the others observed in their own ways.
Terra leaned against a massive pillar carved with cracked runes, his presence heavy, grounding. Even standing still, he felt immovable, like the stone itself had chosen him as its anchor. Every now and then, the floor beneath his boots responded—tiny fractures sealing themselves, dust settling unnaturally fast.
Aeris refused to stop moving. He paced wide circles around Daniella, occasionally leaping onto ledges or running straight up a wall before dropping back down with a grin. The air bent subtly around him, pressure shifting with every step.
Nyx… Nyx was never entirely there.
Sometimes Daniella caught the glint of her eyes in the dim light. Other times, only a distortion in space marked where she sat, legs crossed, chin resting in her palm. Her presence felt like a question left unanswered.
And Kaël.
He remained near the edge of the chamber, partially swallowed by shadow, watching Daniella with an intensity that made her skin prickle. Unlike the others, his gaze didn't feel curious or cautious.
It felt responsible.
When he finally stepped closer, the change was immediate.
The chaotic shimmer of Daniella's light softened. The filaments grew steadier, brighter but calmer, like a flame shielded from the wind.
Nyx noticed first.
— Interesting, she murmured.
Pyra followed her gaze.
— What?
Nyx tilted her head slightly.
— Her output stabilizes when Void is near.
The words settled heavily in the room.
Daniella's breath caught.
— You mean… Kaël?
Aeris stopped mid-step.
— Well, that explains a few things.
Terra straightened slowly.
— Explain.
Kaël exhaled, then moved fully into the light. His shadow stretched unnaturally long behind him, clinging to the floor like ink.
— Lymen and Void were never meant to exist independently, he said. Not at their highest levels.
He looked at Daniella.
— Alone, your power escalates. It searches for equilibrium and can't find it.
— And with you? she asked quietly.
— With me, it has a counterweight.
Pyra frowned.
— That's not comforting.
— It's reality, Kaël replied.
The sanctuary hummed, as if reacting to the truth of his words.
Kaël stepped toward the central platform and placed a small angular device onto the stone. Ancient mechanisms responded instantly, the platform's symbols lighting up in concentric rings.
A holographic projection burst upward, forming a detailed map of the city and its surrounding zones.
Red markers bloomed across it like wounds.
— Residual zones, Kaël said. Echoes of Daniella's awakening.
Daniella stared at the map.
— That's… half the city.
— And Hélios will sweep all of it, Terra said grimly.
Pyra's flame flared.
— They won't stop at scanning.
Kaël nodded.
— The Lymen Protocol means escalation. Surveillance, psychological pressure, disappearances.
— Families, Aeris muttered.
Daniella's chest tightened painfully.
— My parents.
Kaël's voice softened.
— Already flagged.
The word hit like a punch.
— So what's the plan? Daniella demanded. Hide forever?
Terra pushed himself off the pillar.
— We move underground. — We train. — We prepare.
— And we don't act like legends, Pyra added. Legends get hunted.
Nyx smiled faintly.
— Ghosts don't.
Kaël turned to Daniella.
— This isn't about destiny. It's about survival.
She clenched her fists, light flaring brighter—controlled.
— Then teach me.
The sanctuary responded, sealing itself tighter, ancient locks sliding into place.
The generation had converged.
And Hélios had felt it.