The sky above Londara fractured like glass, revealing streaks of ethereal blue light—the unmistakable sign of a portal breach.
They were here.
The Circle.
Reyna tightened her grip on the Voidfang, its obsidian-black blade now humming with violent energy. Beside her, Azrael had already summoned his spectral blade, the ghostly green fire dancing across its surface. The two of them stood at the museum's shattered entrance, surrounded by smoke and shadows.
The air reeked of sulfur and sorcery.
Then the first of them emerged.
Seven. No—ten. Twelve.
Hooded figures, faces obscured by silver masks etched with runes. Their presence bent the very air, making it shimmer. The leader stepped forward, his voice like a blade dragging across glass.
"Subject E-19," he intoned, eyes locking with Reyna. "Your rebellion ends here."
Memory Trigger
Reyna's breath caught in her throat.
E-19.
She had heard it before. Deep inside the void. Echoing in the lab of her dreams, no, her past life.
She wasn't just some pawn who had gained power by chance. She had been grown, tested, fractured, and planted like a seed in every world she'd reincarnated into. Controlled. Used.
Until now.
"I'm not your subject anymore," she said coldly.
And then, with a cry that ripped from her soul, she lunged.
Battle of Blades and Will
Azrael moved beside her, a blur of fire and steel, his blade cleaving through one of the masked invaders with brutal grace. But they were sorcerers, and magic bled from them like open wounds. One waved his hand, ice lanced through the air, narrowly missing Reyna's cheek. Another hurled a sigil, sparking explosions across the museum floor.
Reyna twisted midair, her new instincts—battle-honed from dozens of lives, taking over. She slashed through three masks in a single arc, the Voidfang absorbing their death energy, feeding her.
Azrael was smiling, his usual calm broken into something wild and feral.
"You're finally awake," he said.
Reyna grinned back. "You haven't seen anything yet."
Power Awakens
Suddenly, one of the Circle mages chanted a forbidden rite, drawing an enormous summoning glyph in the air. From it, a serpent made of cursed shadows erupted, its body thick with centuries of malice.
The ground cracked beneath it.
It charged toward Reyna.
She didn't run.
Instead, she let the Voidfang guide her, and for the first time, she spoke the ancient incantation that had been burned into her bones:
"Refractum vitae. Nihil ex me manet."
Light exploded from the blade, and the serpent shattered into stardust.
A silence followed.
The Circle hesitated.
They were not expecting her to remember that.
Azrael leaned toward her, breathless. "That spell was sealed—how the hell—?"
Reyna didn't answer.
Because she didn't know either
A New Player Arrives
Just as the Circle began retreating through the portal they'd come from, a new figure stepped out from the flames behind them, not wearing a mask.
A man with glowing eyes the color of amber and a cruel smirk etched into his face.
He clapped slowly.
"Well done, E-19. Or should I call you Reyna now?"
She froze.
That voice. That presence.
"I know you," she whispered.
"Yes," he replied. "I'm the one who designed your soul."
Azrael's sword dropped an inch. "Who the hell is that?"
Reyna didn't blink.
"My creator."