The passage led them upward now, not down. After leaving the gate behind, they had expected more ruins — more traps, more magic. But instead, they found stairs. Stone steps, wide and carved cleanly, rising through glowing arches of pale blue light.
At the top, the sky returned. They emerged into a circular plaza of marble, half-grown with moss and vines. Beyond it, rising against the horizon like a fortress of silver and obsidian, stood the towering Castle of Odessyus.
They had come full circle — but it no longer felt like home.
A patrol of armored guards met them just beyond the gates. The commander's eyes widened at the sight of the marked sigils glowing faintly beneath the children's sleeves.
"Send word to the king," he muttered. "Tell him… they've awakened."
Within an hour, they stood before the High Throne.
Markodessious Hoiden, the King of Odessyus, sat atop the crystal-steel chair that had ruled the surface lands for a century. His beard was silver, his crown heavy, but his eyes — they were sharp. Focused. Tired.
He rose when he saw them.
"So," he said, voice echoing, "the legends were not legends after all."
Susan stepped forward. "We've seen the obelisks. The sigils. We've touched things buried for centuries."
Frank added, "And something far worse has touched back."
The king studied them for a long time, then slowly nodded. "Come. There are people you should meet."
He led them through the palace halls, up winding staircases of polished stone and through a hall lined with statues of past rulers. At the end stood a large pair of ornate doors.
Inside was a lounge — velvet seats, marble floors, and a grand map of the demon cities hung on the wall.
And waiting within were four figures.
Three boys and a girl. Similar age, royal robes trimmed with blue and gold, each one bearing the family sigil.
"These," the king said, "are my children."
The tallest stepped forward first. Broad-shouldered, confident. "Name's Picson. Firstborn. I've trained in the Skyward Legion since I was eleven."
A thin boy with ink-stained fingers gave a shy wave. "I'm Roul."
The girl bowed slightly. "Selna."
The last one, a boy with curly brown hair and a long coat, leaned against the wall. "Call me Lyten."
Jack muttered, "Of course the prince's squad looks like they walked off a poster."
Tom elbowed him.
"Now that you're no longer students, you'll be working with the royal team," the king said. "We face a threat far greater than politics. If the demon cities rise again… we won't survive without unity."
Before anyone could ask more, a sharp knock echoed from the back hall.
Frank's expression changed. "He's here."
The doors opened again — and a tall, stern figure entered. Cloaked in forest green, with eyes the same stormy gray as Frank's.
Neolin Lauren.
Frank's father.
"Still alive, I see," Neolin said without emotion.
Frank nodded. "You expected otherwise?"
"No," Neolin said. "Just hoped for a little more drama."
The reunion was strange — no hug, no warmth — but no hostility either. There was a quiet understanding between them. Neolin glanced at the rest of the group, then turned sharply.
"Follow me. If you're going to survive what's coming, you need to understand what you are."
---
They reached the lower observatory — a circular chamber lined with glowing tomes, ancient diagrams, and elemental relics sealed behind crystal.
Neolin stood in front of a great arcane map, then drew a line across it with his finger.
"Three forces run through this land," he began. "One born of order. One born of chaos. One born of both."
He tapped the first line. "Triggsen — pure elemental manipulation. The wind. The fire. The crystal. Natural, focused, calm. A rare gift."
Then the second. "Riggsen — chaos-bound force. Much harder to control. It bends logic. Breaks physics. It's dangerous… but sometimes necessary."
Then the last. "Palecto — the fusion. Light and dark, control and wildness, demon and human. The most ancient… and the most feared."
Tom's voice was quiet. "So that's what we are?"
"You're all at different stages," Neolin said. "Some of you are only beginning to awaken your Triggsen. Others, like you, Frank… carry fragments of Palecto already."
Jack asked, "What about me?"
Neolin turned to him. "You carry a death mark. That's something older than all three."
Before anyone could respond, the doors behind them exploded open.
A man in a blood-red coat stormed through, dragging two knocked-out guards behind him.
He had white tattoos across his neck, a twin-bladed dagger spinning in his hand, and eyes like a storm wrapped in violence.
"Bullet." Frank said, stepping forward.
Neolin's face tightened. "Of course. You always show up when I least need you."
Bullet grinned. "Heard your little band of kiddies were playing with fire. Thought I'd come test the heat."
Without warning, he launched forward.
Susan raised a diamond wall. Jack slipped behind him and caught the second blade with a ghost-pulse. Frank twisted the air, slamming Bullet backward with a gust. Tom leapt in, fist blazing, striking him in the ribs.
Bullet grunted. "Not bad."
Then he vanished — smoke trailing behind him.
Tom shouted, "Left!"
Lucy jumped aside as Bullet reappeared with a blade aimed for Frank — but Frank was ready. He lifted a gust barrier and blasted Bullet straight into the wall.
The guards rushed in. Bullet vanished in a flash of red energy, leaving only his laugh behind.
Neolin exhaled sharply. "He was testing you."
Kitty looked shaken. "We… won?"
"You survived," Neolin corrected. "That's enough… for now."
He turned to the board again.
"Now that you know what you are, you must ask yourselves one thing: are you meant to protect this world… or rule it?"
No one answered.
But something deep inside each of them stirred.
And none of them — not even Frank — knew what side they'd be standing on when the Blood Moon rose.