The recall orders went out simultaneously.
Priority Alpha.
Immediate return.
No explanation.
Just coordinates and timeline.
Twelve hours.
That's all they had.
Hour One – Dispersal
Across four fronts, five individuals received the same message.
Each reacted differently.
Northern Front – Brann Gaiath
The earth-user read the order twice.
Then looked at his commanding officer.
"I have to go," he said.
The officer—exhausted, holding a collapsing line—stared at him.
"Now? We're barely holding—"
"Priority Alpha overrides everything," Brann interrupted. "Including this."
He gathered minimal equipment.
Turned to the soldiers he'd fought beside for weeks.
"Hold as long as you can," he said. "Reinforcements are coming."
Someone laughed—bitter, exhausted.
"That's what they said last week."
Brann had no answer.
Just boarded the transport and left.
Watching the defensive line shrink behind him.
Knowing it might not exist when he returned.
If he returned.
Western Front – Raien Pyraen
The fire-user was in combat when the order came.
Mid-engagement.
Flames already discharged.
Enemy advancing.
The recall flashed across his tactical display.
He swore.
Disengaged.
Pulled back despite protests from his unit.
"What are you doing?!" someone shouted.
"Following orders!" Raien replied.
"We need you here!"
"Apparently they need me more somewhere else!"
He left.
Feeling the weight of abandonment.
The fire behind him—both literal and metaphorical—burning without him.
Eastern Front – Seris Zephra
The wind-user was near the distortion when recall came.
Observing.
Analyzing.
Feeling wrongness in the air itself.
Her tactical officer appeared.
"You're being recalled," she said.
"I can't leave," Seris replied. "Not when—"
"Priority Alpha," the officer interrupted. "Non-negotiable."
Seris looked at the distortion.
At space twisting unnaturally.
At the phenomenon that made wind stall and die.
"This is connected," she said. "To whatever they're recalling me for."
"Then you need to go," the officer replied.
Seris nodded.
Departed.
But kept looking back.
At wrongness growing.
At wind refusing to answer her calls.
At silence where motion should be.
Central Operations – Irian Aquelis
The water-user was coordinating supply lines when recall arrived.
Least dramatic of the four.
Most controlled.
He read the order.
Acknowledged.
Delegated his responsibilities.
Departed within thirty minutes.
Professional.
Efficient.
And deeply uneasy.
Because Priority Alpha meant crisis.
And crisis during wartime meant—
Something worse than war.
Academy – Kurogane Vaelrion
The lightning-user waited.
Not patiently.
But necessarily.
Twelve hours felt like twelve years.
Lightning hummed anxiously.
Will they come?
They have to.
What if fronts collapse before they arrive?
Then fronts collapse.
This matters more.
How do you know?
Because everything pointed here.
The manipulation.
The distortions.
The timing.
Someone orchestrated this.
And we need to know who.
Hour Six – First Arrival
Irian reached the academy at 1400 hours.
First to arrive.
Kurogane met him at the landing platform.
They hadn't spoken since the Evaluation.
Months ago.
Different context.
"You know what this is about?" Irian asked without preamble.
"Partially," Kurogane replied. "Distortions at all four fronts. Elemental disruption. Pattern matching historical records from the Sealing."
Irian's expression didn't change.
But his eyes sharpened.
"The Darkness Emperor," he said quietly.
"Maybe."
"That's not maybe," Irian replied. "That's apocalyptic."
"Yes."
They moved toward the briefing chamber.
"Why recall us?" Irian asked. "Why not deploy full military response?"
"Because military response is elemental," Kurogane said. "And elements are failing near distortions."
"So they want concentrated elemental users?"
"They want the five who passed Evaluation," Kurogane corrected. "The ones who demonstrated control under pressure."
"Or the ones most likely to survive approaching those distortions," Irian said.
"Probably both."
Hour Eight – Second and Third Arrivals
Brann and Seris arrived within minutes of each other.
Both exhausted.
Both carrying weight that went beyond physical.
"My line is collapsing," Brann said immediately. "Whatever this is about—"
"It's about why your line is collapsing," Mizuki interrupted.
She'd joined them in the briefing chamber.
Activated the tactical display.
Four distortions. Growing. Spreading wrongness.
"These appeared three days after Korrin's removal," she explained. "Simultaneous manifestation at sites corresponding to ancient seal anchors."
"The Four Pillars," Seris said.
Everyone turned.
"You know about them?" Mizuki asked.
"Every wind-user does," Seris replied. "They're legend. Points where elemental law was anchored after the Collapse. Where the Darkness Emperor's power was distributed and contained."
"Except they're not legend," Masako said, entering the chamber. "They're real. And they're failing."
Brann sat heavily.
"The war," he said. "The fronts. The pressure. It was all—"
"Designed to exhaust us," Kurogane finished. "Spread elemental resources thin. Weaken collective defense."
"So when the seal tested," Seris continued, "we'd be too tired to reinforce it."
"Yes."
Lightning stirred.
Korrin knew.
Did he?
He must have. The manipulation was too perfect.
Or he was being manipulated.
Used by someone who understood what exhaustion would cause.
"Where's the fifth?" Brann asked.
"Raien," Irian said. "Fire representative."
"He's delayed," Mizuki replied. "Western Front transport encountered complications. ETA ninety minutes."
"We can't wait," Kurogane said.
"Why not?" Brann challenged.
Kurogane pulled updated distortion metrics.
Expanding faster now.
Acceleration visible.
"Because they're growing exponentially," he said. "Whatever's testing the seal is getting bolder."
"Or closer to breaking through," Masako added.
Hour Ten – Strategy Session
They gathered around the tactical display.
Four elemental representatives.
Plus Kurogane.
Masako and Mizuki coordinating.
Valen observing.
"Here's what we know," Mizuki began. "Four distortions. Four ancient sites. All simultaneously active. Elemental function disrupted in proximity."
"Here's what we don't know," Masako continued. "Who activated them. How they're powered. How to stop them."
"Can we approach them?" Irian asked.
"Unknown," Mizuki replied. "Conventional forces report complete elemental failure within fifty meters. Beyond that—graduated disruption."
"So we'd be walking into zones where our abilities don't work," Seris said.
"Possibly," Masako agreed. "But you four—five, when Raien arrives—demonstrated exceptional control during Evaluation. If anyone can function under disruption, it's you."
"That's optimistic," Brann muttered.
"It's necessary," Valen said. Voice hard. "We don't have better options."
Kurogane studied the distortion sites.
Lightning hummed.
Four pillars.
Five elements.
Is that coincidence?
I don't think so.
"The original seal," he said slowly. "How was it created?"
Everyone turned.
"Historical records are incomplete," Masako replied. "But fragments suggest it required coordinated elemental response. All four elements working in concert."
"Four elements," Kurogane repeated. "Earth, Water, Fire, Wind."
"Yes."
"What about lightning?"
Silence.
"Lightning wasn't recognized as separate element then," Mizuki said carefully. "It was considered... aberration. Dangerous. Uncontrolled."
"Except it existed," Kurogane pressed. "The original Kurogane—the Darkness Emperor—wielded lightning."
"Yes."
"So when they sealed him," Kurogane continued, "they used four elements to contain five-element threat."
Understanding dawned.
"Incomplete seal," Seris whispered.
"Inherently unstable," Irian added.
"Held by exhausting itself," Brann finished. "For 12,000 years."
"Until something started deliberately exhausting it further," Kurogane said.
Lightning pulsed.
The war was accelerant.
Someone knew the seal was failing.
Used conflict to speed collapse.
"Who?" Mizuki demanded.
Kurogane didn't answer.
Because he didn't know.
But patterns were forming.
Korrin's manipulation.
The mysterious contact on the roof.
The "someone" who'd warned him about precedent.
All connected.
All pointing toward—
"The High Arbiter," Masako said suddenly.
Everyone turned.
"He's been absent for weeks," she continued. "No communication. No location confirmation."
"You think he's involved?" Valen asked.
"I think," Masako replied carefully, "that his disappearance coincides with distortion activation. That's not coincidence."
"Prove it," Valen demanded.
"I can't," Masako admitted. "Not yet. But investigation is ongoing."
An alarm interrupted.
CRITICAL ALERT – DISTORTION ACCELERATION
NORTHERN SITE: EXPANSION RATE TRIPLED
ESTIMATED TIME TO CRITICAL THRESHOLD: 6 HOURS
Everyone looked at the display.
At wrongness spreading faster.
At time running out.
"Six hours," Valen said. "To figure out how to stop four simultaneous breaches."
"With one element still in transit," Mizuki added.
"And no understanding of what we're facing," Brann finished.
Silence pressed in.
Then Kurogane spoke.
"We go anyway," he said.
"What?" Irian asked.
"We can't wait for perfect information," Kurogane continued. "Or for Raien. Six hours means we move now."
"To do what?" Seris challenged.
"To assess," Kurogane replied. "To understand. To buy time."
"How?" Brann demanded.
Kurogane looked at the four sites.
At distortions spreading.
At the seal that had held 12,000 years.
Beginning to fail.
"By reinforcing the pillars," he said. "Each of us at one site. Using our elements to stabilize what's failing."
"That's not a plan," Irian said. "That's desperation."
"Yes," Kurogane agreed. "But desperation is what we have."
Lightning coiled.
Ready.
Certain.
Because six hours meant no alternatives.
Just action.
And hope it was enough.