The night after the interrogation, Aria couldn't sleep. The wind outside howled like distant voices, battering against the high towers of the Seeker stronghold. She lay still, the Lumina Shard on the bedside table pulsing faintly in the dark, casting pale light across the ceiling. Every time she closed her eyes, she felt watched—not by someone near, but by something vast and ancient. Something stirring.
She drifted, eventually, into a half-sleep, the world blurring—until the dream seized her.
She stood in a vast expanse of white marble, smooth and endless, broken only by towering pillars that stretched into a misty sky. Her footsteps echoed as she moved forward, drawn by a flickering light ahead.
"Eira?" she called.
A shape emerged from the fog. Eira—draped in moonlight, her silver hair flowing behind her, her eyes distant and far too sad.
"You must listen," Eira said, her voice layered, like it was being spoken from many places at once. "It wakes, Aria. The seal weakens. Something lost… is remembering itself."
Aria stepped closer. "What do you mean? What's waking?"
But Eira's form flickered—her edges blurring like watercolors in the rain.
"You carry the last light," Eira whispered. "But even light casts shadows. The First Seeker left a message buried beneath Lumina's Heart. You must find it. Before they do."
The mist thickened. Cracks began to spread through the marble at Aria's feet.
"Find the memory sealed in stone," Eira said one last time, her voice nearly drowned by the rising wind. "It will begin again. And only you—"
She vanished.
Aria awoke with a strangled gasp, drenched in cold sweat. The Shard beside her flared brightly, then dimmed.
She didn't wait for morning.
—
Minutes later, the group gathered in the war room again, groggy but alert. Aria stood at the map table, her hands braced on the edge.
"It wasn't just a dream," she said. "Eira came to me. She said there's something beneath Lumina's Heart. A message left by the First Seeker."
Quinn frowned. "A memory sealed in stone?"
"She was clear. If we don't get there first, the Eye will."
Kael exchanged a look with Lyric, who straightened and nodded. "The old ruins beneath the Hall of Light—those predate even the founding of the city. Most of it's sealed off, unstable after the tremors decades ago. But… there are rumors of a vault. A chamber only Seekers could access."
Finn ran a hand through his hair. "Because of course there are. And I suppose this 'message' just so happens to be in the creepiest, most collapsed part of the city."
Lyric smirked. "Afraid of rubble, Finn?"
"Afraid of tetanus," he shot back.
Quinn rolled up the old city schematics from the archives, spreading them across the table. "There's a sealed staircase behind the Hall's main altar. Leads straight down. The Heart sits at the crossroads of old ley lines. If something is waking up… that's where the echoes would be loudest."
"Then we go at first light," Aria said. Her voice was firm, but inside, a storm was rising.
She couldn't shake the feeling that they were already too late.
—
The morning was gray again, the kind of dull that muffled sound and dimmed even magic-infused lanterns. The Hall of Light loomed above them, its glass spires dimly reflecting the overcast sky.
Inside, the sanctuary was silent. Dust floated in golden beams of filtered light, and the mosaic floor beneath their feet shimmered with symbols long forgotten.
Behind the altar, Quinn uncovered a panel with ancient Seeker markings. He pressed his palm to the center glyph. Light flared, and with a deep rumble, the wall split open, revealing a spiral staircase descending into darkness.
Aria led the way, the Shard now glowing steadily in her hand. Its light curled along the walls like fog, revealing murals carved into the stone—scenes of fire and flood, of shadows towering over armies, of a woman crowned in light standing alone before a chasm.
"The First Seeker," Kael murmured behind her. "That's her."
Finn gave a low whistle. "Why do all ancient heroes look terrifyingly majestic?"
"Because they were," Lyric replied. "And because history forgets their fear."
The staircase ended in a cavernous hall. The ceiling had partially collapsed, but a pathway remained clear. At the far end stood a dais—upon it, a circular stone gate ringed with symbols.
As Aria approached, the Shard pulsed harder, and the air changed—thick with power, like standing before a storm.
Eira's voice echoed faintly in her memory: Find the memory sealed in stone.
She held out the Shard. The moment it neared the gate, the symbols lit up, cascading in a spiral. The stone center shimmered, then rippled like water. A projection of light surged forward—an echo, a recording.
A woman stood before them, tall and fierce, eyes like burning stars. Her voice rang out, steady and resolute.
"If you are seeing this, the Balance has failed. The seals are broken, or near breaking. The Eye watches still, and the Void stirs. You must not let the Cycle repeat."
The vision shifted—images flashed: a vast dark shape rising from beneath the world, cities crumbling into shadow, the Shard shattered into fragments, each carried by figures whose faces were lost to time.
"You are Seekers," the voice continued. "Not of power, but of truth. The truth must be remembered. The First Seal lies in the Deep Vaults beneath Aetheros. You must find it. Restore it."
Then the light dimmed.
Silence returned.
Finn let out a low breath. "So… no pressure?"
Aria turned to face them, the glow of the Shard fading in her palm.
"This isn't just about the Eye. Or the Council. This is something older than all of us."
Lyric nodded slowly, her brows drawn. "The Void… That's not metaphor. That's literal. I think what the Eye worships—what they're trying to wake—is something that predates magic itself."
"And we just got an invitation to stop it," Quinn added.
Kael stepped to Aria's side. "We go to Aetheros next."
But before they could move, a sudden blast of wind tore through the chamber, snuffing out their lanterns. The gate behind them slammed shut. From the shadows, a low rumble echoed—then a voice.
"Too late, little Seekers."
Dozens of eyes blinked open in the dark—deep violet, unblinking, cold.
Aria's pulse spiked as she raised the Shard. "Back!"
The floor cracked. From beneath the stone emerged twisted, bone-white creatures—limbs too long, mouths filled with teeth made of obsidian. The Eye's sentries.
Kael drew his blade. Lyric's hands blazed with arcane fire. Finn flanked them, murmuring a quick protection spell as a barrier shimmered around the group.
Quinn was already moving, blades flashing. "We hold them off—get Aria to the gate!"
Aria surged forward, the Shard blazing now like a miniature sun. She focused on the gate—if she could reactivate it, they might escape.
"Eira!" she shouted in her mind, desperate. Help me!
The Shard pulsed once—then twice. The gate shimmered again, flickering.
Behind her, Kael fought two creatures at once, blood staining his shoulder. Lyric screamed a spell that sent three of them flying back. Finn was shielding Quinn, who had taken a hit to the ribs.
The gate flickered one last time—then flared open.
"Now!" Aria cried.
One by one, they dove through the gate—Aria last, gripping the Shard and flinging herself into the light.
They landed hard on stone. The gate slammed shut behind them.
Silence.
They were no longer beneath Lumina. Above them, light filtered through high windows. Statues of robed figures stood in solemn rows.
Aria looked around in disbelief.
It was the Hall of Seekers.
But it was ruined. Dust covered every surface. Cracks split the walls. And outside the stained-glass windows, the sky burned red.
"What—" Finn wheezed, "Where are we?"
Eira's voice echoed faintly from nowhere and everywhere.
"Not when. Where you must begin again."