Vel and Celia approached the arena late in the afternoon, when most students had already finished their scouting. The massive structure loomed before them across the academy courtyard, its ancient stonework bathed in the golden light of the setting sun.
The shadow cast by the wall alone stretched far across the academy grounds. Vel paused, taking in the imposing sight.
"It's enormous," Celia whispered beside him, her eyes wide with wonder.
Six statues were placed evenly along the wall, each representing one of the six gods, facing outward. Vel easily identified them—Shizka, Morya, Calyphe, Jules, Tir, and Ignis—the pantheon that had developed over centuries. The road leading to the arena entrance was unusually empty, still within academy grounds but devoid of the typical student bustle.
They entered through the main archway and found themselves in the seating area. The audience seats descended toward the center in a perfect bowl shape, providing clear views from every angle.
"Let's get closer to the battlefield," Vel suggested, leading Celia down the stone steps.
The battlefield itself was moderate in size, clearly designed for duels rather than large-scale battles. Not too cramped but not too expansive either. Perfect for the three-on-three matches they'd be facing.
From the audience seats, Vel noticed another set of stoneworks placed around the arena itself. Each of these structures served as both decoration and support columns, their foundations connected by a continuous stone barrier. The only way to enter the battlefield was through the designated gates.
"These stoneworks..." Vel said, his voice trailing off as he stared at them with growing unease. "There's something about them. I need a closer look."
Celia followed as Vel descended to the arena level and approached one of the stone figures. Upon closer inspection, realization dawned on him. These weren't random decorations—they were Primodials.
Not just any Primodials. The statues displayed were his Primodials in their original form, the very first designs he had created before resurrection cycles had changed their appearances.
"Vel?" Celia's voice seemed distant as he stared at the stone creature before him. "You're staring. What is it?"
Vel stared at the seven statues encircling the arena, each one capturing his attention with extraordinary detail.
A majestic phoenix with feathers so precisely carved they seemed ready to burst into flame.
A serpentine dragon coiled around one of the columns, scales meticulously etched into the stone.
A great bear with mountain-like features across its back stood proudly, as if guarding the arena itself.
His eyes moved to the thunderbird, wings spread wide as if about to unleash a storm.
Beside it, a radiant pegasus with its horn pointing skyward, its mane flowing in an invisible wind.
A shadow wolf crouched in eternal vigilance, its eyes somehow darker than the stone itself.
And finally, a chimeric beast that combined features of multiple creatures in harmonious balance.
Each figure frozen in stone, yet brought to life through masterful artistry.
Vel's heart raced as he circled the statues. Something wasn't adding up.
Vel traced his fingers along the phoenix's wing, feeling a strange connection to the stone creature. "This... makes no sense," he muttered, his voice barely audible.
If the Primodials had disappeared, how could these statues exist with such perfect detail? Who could have known their original forms? The questions multiplied in his mind, each more troubling than the last.
"Do you know when this arena was built?" Vel asked Celia, hoping for any clue that might explain this impossibility.
She shook her head, her brow furrowed in thought. "I've read about the Academy's history, but I don't recall anything specific about the arena's construction."
"Rumor has it, this was built upon what they called the Divine Summit," a familiar voice said from behind them.
Vel turned to find Tomas approaching, his eyes bright with excitement as he gazed at the statues.
"When were you here?" Vel asked, surprised by his classmate's sudden appearance.
Tomas grinned. "Just now. You could have told me we're exploring the arena."
He stepped closer to the statues, running his hand along the stone bear's massive paw.
"These stones were here for a long time. The arena was built around them when the Academy discovered the site." Tomas continued, clearly proud of his research.
Tomas pointed toward the ground, drawing Vel's attention away from the statues.
"Look at the floor," he said, crouching down.
Vel followed his gaze and noticed what he'd overlooked before—the stone floor itself was carved with intricate lines and patterns, swirling in unusual symmetry across the entire arena surface.
"They will fill this with sand later and renovate the field to fit the arena for combat purposes," Tomas explained, tracing one of the lines with his finger. "But these patterns underneath... they're ancient."
Vel knelt beside him, brushing away residue of sand to reveal more of the design. Something about the arrangement felt eerily familiar. The way the statues were positioned around the arena, the way these lines connected between them...
His breath caught in his throat as understanding struck him.
"This..."
The pattern wasn't random. The swirling lines formed a perfect mathematical sequence expanding outward from the center. Each curve precisely calculated, each intersection deliberate.
"Isn't this a Fibonacci spiral?" Vel whispered, more to himself than to his companions.
The divine ratio. At any given point, there would always be seven areas in proportion to each other, each section perfectly balanced with the others. The statues weren't merely decorative—they marked key points in the mathematical pattern, creating a perfect harmony of space and form.
Vel's fingers trembled slightly as he traced the lines connecting the statues. This wasn't just architecture or art. This was something far more fundamental—a blueprint of sorts, encoding principles that felt unnervingly familiar.
Vel circled the statues again, examining them more carefully. Something about their placement nagged at his consciousness. He stepped back, trying to view the entire arena as a whole rather than focusing on individual elements.
The seven statues weren't randomly positioned—they formed a perfect circle around the arena, equidistant from each other. But more than that, each statue faced a specific direction, their gazes seemingly converging at some unseen point.
"The orientation..." Vel murmured, drawing curious glances from Celia and Tomas.
In his mind, he traced invisible lines from each statue, following their sightlines across the arena. The lines intersected at a single point near the center, forming a perfect leyline pattern.
"This... is the center," Vel whispered, moving toward the spot where all the invisible lines converged.
At first, nothing happened as he stepped onto the unremarkable patch of stone. Celia watched him with confusion, about to ask what he was doing.
Then came the sound—a deep, grinding noise of stone against stone that echoed throughout the empty arena. Vel froze in place as all seven statues' heads slowly turned toward him, their stone eyes seeming to stare directly at him.
"What's happening?" Celia's voice was tight with alarm.
Vel couldn't answer. He watched in stunned silence as each statue's head had turned until they all looked directly toward him, their stone eyes seeming to stare into his soul.
His interface suddenly flickered to life before his eyes, notifications chiming rapidly:
[COMMUNICATION PROTOCOL ESTABLISHED]
[Authentication: pending]
[Verified]
[DISTRESS MESSAGE: PLAYBACK INITIATED]
Vel gasped as his vision blurred, the arena dissolving around him. Reality shattered, replaced by fragmented images that tore through his consciousness.
Withered human forms with vacant, hollow eyes moved through a mountain village. Their movements were unnaturally synchronized, bodies shambling forward in perfect unison. The sound of their breathing—a rhythmic, rasping noise—echoed in his mind with mechanical precision.
The vision shifted. Landre stood with her arms outstretched, light pouring from her palms against an encroaching wall of darkness. But the shadows consumed her light, creeping closer despite her efforts. Her face contorted with desperation as the darkness threatened to overwhelm her.
[VOID ANOMALY IMMINENT: AIR NEXUS]
Information flooded into Vel's mind—coordinates, sensations, knowledge. Northern mountains. Between two peaks. A village. Something ancient stirring beneath the earth.
Then came the cry—a piercing, mournful sound that Vel recognized instantly. Not with his ears, but with something deeper. The majestic call of a thunderbird in distress, a plea for help that resonated in his bones.
Dark mist spread across the landscape like ink in water, consuming everything it touched. Trees withered, animals fled, and the synchronized humans marched steadily onward, spreading the corruption.
As quickly as it had appeared, the vision collapsed, leaving Vel gasping for breath. He fell to his knees on the arena floor, one name burning in his mind with terrifying clarity.
"Alukah..." he whispered, the word falling from his lips like a curse.
The realization crystallized in his mind. Alukah—one of the most powerful raid bosses from Aeonalus. But something was wrong. It was tainted, corrupted by the Void, its original purpose twisted into something monstrous.
And it was taking over the Air Nexus. Whatever that was, Vel knew it was catastrophic.
"Zephyr..." The name came unbidden to his lips, not as some distant deity but as something precious and personal—something he couldn't bear to lose.
The thunderbird. The Air Primordial. It was crying for help.
"Vel! VEL!" Celia called out, her face inches from his, eyes wide with concern. "Are you unwell? Have you been practicing too much?"
She gripped his shoulders, steadying him as he swayed. This wasn't the first time she'd witnessed one of his episodes, but the intensity of his reaction clearly alarmed her.
Tomas rushed over, kneeling beside them. "What happened? You just froze and then collapsed."
Vel's thoughts scattered with fragments of the vision—the withered villagers, the spreading darkness, Landre's desperate struggle against the encroaching void. His sister was in danger. Real, immediate danger.
"I need to find Lan-neechan," he said, his voice hoarse as he struggled to his feet. "Now."
"But why?" Celia's grip on his arm tightened. "What happened?"
Tomas looked between them, confusion written across his face. "Your sister? The Saint?"
"Something bad is happening to her," Vel said, already moving toward the arena exit. The certainty in his voice left no room for doubt.
The statues had returned to their original positions, as though nothing had happened. But Vel knew better. The message had been meant for him alone—a desperate plea from beings he'd once known, now fighting against something that threatened this entire world.
Vel stumbled up the arena steps, his legs unsteady beneath him. Celia followed close behind, her face etched with concern.
"Vel, wait! You're not making sense," she called after him.
He paused at the top of the stairs, the weight of what he'd just experienced settling heavily upon him. For months, he'd been caught up in Academy politics and tournament preparations, almost forgetting the strange circumstances that had brought him here. He'd been so focused on adapting to this life that he'd pushed aside the fundamental questions of his existence in this world.
But now, standing in an arena marked with familiar designs, those questions could no longer be ignored. Why was he here? What was happening to this world? And most urgently—was Landre in danger?
"I need to send a message to Lan-neechan," he said, turning to face Celia. "Something's wrong. I can feel it."
"How do you know?" Tomas asked, catching up to them. "What did you see down there?"
Vel hesitated. How could he even begin to explain what he'd just experienced? The tournament suddenly seemed distant, though he knew it couldn't be abandoned. But first, he needed to warn his sister. Somehow.
"I just know," he said finally. "Call it a brother's intuition."
He glanced back at the arena, at the seven stone Primodials standing in silent vigil. They had sent him a message—ancient guardians reaching out across whatever barriers separated them.