Ardent City
The Federation's central outpost in Ardent City rarely stirred before dawn. Yet that morning, its corridors thrummed with restrained urgency — the rhythmic echo of boots, the rustle of scrolls, and messengers darting up stairwells lit by blue rune lamps.
Inside the high council chamber — a circular hall suspended in the heart of the tower — Vice Headmaster Taurus Grein stood before a tall window overlooking the city. Morning light caught the silver in his hair, spilling across the marble floor etched with the Federation's insignia: a radiant star encircled by seven runes, each representing a branch of their great system — Governance, Research, Rune Mastery, Military, Spirit Engineering, Intelligence, and Cultivation Oversight.
Behind him stood several senior examiners and rune masters, each bearing an expression somewhere between concern and fatigue.
"So," Taurus said at last, his tone calm yet weighted. "The anomaly in Rift 7-3C hasn't faded?"
A woman in gray robes, sharp-eyed and composed, stepped forward. "No, Vice Headmaster. The readings have only worsened. The spatial seals placed two days ago are fluctuating—almost as if something inside is… pushing back."
Murmurs followed.
The youngest of the group, a rune analyst clutching a glowing data crystal, cleared his throat nervously. "Sir, we also detected traces of blood energy near the rift's core. It isn't beast essence. It's human — organized and ritualistic."
Taurus's gaze sharpened. "The cult," he said quietly.
No one answered, but their silence spoke volumes.
He sighed and pressed his palm to the smooth table before him. Blue runes flared to life, casting faint light across the chamber as a projection of the rift materialized in the air."This is no ordinary interference," he murmured. "The corruption levels are climbing too fast. If this continues unchecked… we may face an outbreak."
That word alone was enough to draw a chill into the room.
Everyone knew what an outbreak meant: a rift's unstable core finally erupting, spilling hordes of aberrant beasts and spirit corruption into the world above. Entire towns could be wiped away overnight.
One of the older examiners spoke, her voice subdued. "The Blaze Clan lost a Saint Realm expert during the Redveil Outbreak, twenty years ago. Rift energy devoured her from within before she could even stabilize the breach."
Taurus nodded solemnly. "Yes. A rift left unsealed will always break open in time. And when it does, even Saints can fall."
He turned toward the two officers waiting at the end of the hall — one in military black, the other in silver robes of the Directorate."Send word to the Chief of Parliament," he commanded. "We're escalating Rift 7-3C to Category Red. Deploy Grandmaster-level scouts and set rune anchors along the perimeter. If we detect breach energy, seal the entire quadrant immediately."
"Yes, Vice Headmaster," they said in unison, saluting before hurrying from the room.
"Prepare to resume the second phase of the Examination three weeks from now," Taurus continued. "The survivors of the Rift Trial won't stay idle, and we can't afford indefinite delay. But until then — no one enters another unstable rift without authorization."
A soft ripple of acknowledgment passed through the gathered examiners.
Then, one voice broke the silence."What of the boy, Stephen Stormcloud?"
At that, Taurus's expression shifted slightly — thoughtful now. "I've read the reports from the healers," he said. "His recovery defies all logic. His soul sea should've fractured beyond repair, and yet… it stabilized overnight. Even our healing formations couldn't explain it."
"Could it be a bloodline mutation, sir?" asked another.
Taurus's lips quirked faintly. "Perhaps. Or perhaps fate simply enjoys toying with us."
He turned back toward the city, sunlight glinting against the runes etched across the windows. "Leave him be. Such mutations aren't rare — some transform the mediocre into prodigies, others twist genius into mediocrity. Time will tell which he becomes."
No one argued. They had seen countless 'prodigies' rise and fade like sparks in the dark. Only a handful ever became stars worth remembering.
Later that day
Stephen stood on the balcony of the Federation quarters, watching the awakening of Ironveil City below.From above, the city looked tranquil — streets gleaming with polished stone, market stalls stirring awake under floating lanterns, and patrols of guards moving in quiet rhythm.
But beneath the surface, the city thrummed with energy.
A faint vibration — steady and alive — pulsed through the walls and streets. It was the Federation's rune network, a sprawling system of energy veins that powered everything: lighting, communication, defense, even climate balance. Spirit energy flowed through those hidden channels like blood through a living organism.
Stephen exhaled slowly. His father had once said that true strength wasn't about force, but control — the delicate balance between creation and destruction. Looking down now, he understood. This city was proof of that mastery.
His thoughts turned inevitably to the rift — to the chaos, the blood, the moment when the Azure Sparrow had awakened. He could still recall the light, crystalline and pure, shielding him from the beast's strike. The memory stirred something inside him — awe mixed with a quiet, unsettling fear. That power wasn't entirely his. It was something ancient, waiting.
The door behind him clicked open.
"Morning," came Lyra's voice, soft and familiar.
He turned slightly. She stood at the threshold, dressed in a dark-blue dress embroidered with a crimson phoenix over her shoulder — a mark of her clan. The wind caught a few strands of her copper hair as she stepped forward.
"You're up early," Stephen said.
"I had to be," she murmured, joining him by the railing. Her hand brushed his, hesitating for a moment before resting beside his. "There's something I need to tell you."
He didn't speak — only watched her, waiting.
Lyra took a quiet breath. "I have to leave. The ancestor allowed me to stay after the trial, but only for a week. I received word this morning — I'm to return to the Blaze Clan for my breakthrough to the Apprentice Realm. After that… I'll be going to Ardent City to join the Royal Academy."
Her voice faltered at the end. Stephen turned, seeing the conflict in her eyes — pride and sorrow mingled together.
He smiled faintly and brushed a thumb against her cheek. "You say it like you're vanishing forever."
Lyra's lips trembled into a small, wry smile. "Then hurry up and catch up to me. When you're strong enough, you can protect me instead."
"Protect you?" he teased. "I'll think about it — maybe I'll charge you for it."
That earned a laugh from her, light but genuine. Then, without warning, she leaned forward — and kissed him.
The world stilled.
For a heartbeat, Stephen froze. Then instinct took over, and he pulled her close, one arm around her waist. The city below blurred away — there was only her warmth, her breath, the quiet hum of energy that seemed to pulse with their hearts.
A loud cough shattered the moment.
They broke apart instantly. Lyra's face flushed scarlet as she turned to see Kael leaning against the doorway, grinning like a misbehaving schoolboy.
"Well, well," he said, eyes glinting with amusement. "Didn't know I was interrupting a farewell ceremony."
"Uncle Kael!" Lyra groaned, covering her face.
Kael — her fourth uncle, and the younger brother of her father — raised his hands in mock innocence. "What? I was just checking on my niece before we left."
Stephen tried not to laugh, but the smirk forming on his lips gave him away.
Kael's grin widened. "Careful, boy. Laugh too hard and I'll tell the clan you've stolen our young lady's heart. Maybe we'll see what her great-grandfather thinks about that."
Lyra's eyes sparkled mischievously. "Speaking of great-grandfather…" she said sweetly, tilting her head, "should I remind him how you skipped his 'special training' for three whole months?"
Kael's face went pale. "You wouldn't dare."
"Oh, I would," she said, crossing her arms. "You know how much he loves making up for lost time."
Stephen blinked — confused at first, then amused — as Kael actually took a step back, visibly uneasy.
Lyra turned to Stephen with mock seriousness. "You see, Uncle Kael fears Grandpa's training more than death. There were rumors it made even core elders cry."
Kael shot her a dark look. "Keep talking, and I'll tell your great-grandfather you've been sneaking around kissing boys."
Lyra gasped, cheeks flaring. "Uncle!"
Stephen couldn't help it this time — he burst out laughing.
Kael sighed and muttered, "You're both going to be the death of me."
Lyra swatted his arm lightly. "Don't be dramatic."
Then she turned to Stephen, her expression softening again. "Don't worry about my family. Just promise you'll come find me."
He met her gaze, steady and sincere. "I promise. No matter how long it takes."
Elsewhere — Federation Archives
Far below the bustling city, deep within the Federation's oldest vaults, a single crystal slab pulsed faintly in the dark.The Rift Monitoring Core — an ancient relic wired directly into the seals of Rift 7-3C — flickered with unstable light.
Energy readings spiked, the projection on its surface twisting violently. Within the haze of black mist, something stirred.
Not a beast.Not a shadow.
An eye — golden and unblinking — opened from within the rift's heart.
Watching.Waiting.