The first rays of dawn crept through the narrow basement window, painting thin golden lines across the stone floor. I woke slowly, my body heavy, the cot creaking as I shifted. The headache had dulled to a persistent throb behind my eyes, but the emotional recoil lingered—a hollow ache in my chest, like something vital had been scraped raw. Colors were still slightly muted, the world feeling a fraction less real, as if I were viewing it through a thin veil of gray glass.
Nyx was in my arms again. I had pulled her from the ring in the middle of the night, needing the warmth. The egg rested against my chest, its obsidian surface cool now, the violet and blue veins pulsing slowly, almost thoughtfully. The crying had quieted to a soft, steady hum—but every few minutes it rose slightly, like a question. Like she was checking if I was still here.
I sat up, pressing the heels of my hands to my temples. The book lay on the desk, closed. The new line from last night still burned in my mind:
"The gaze opens the rift. The rift opens the way."
I think I opened something I shouldn't have opened.
The thought sat heavy in my gut. I had won the fight. I had broken Taren. But at what cost?
I dressed in silence—uniform rough against my skin, sleeves pulled down over the bandages that still itched faintly. The scars tugged with every movement, a dull, familiar ache. The cold in my mana was still there, but it felt… sharper. Like it remembered the gaze.
I headed out.
The training hall was quieter than usual—the sparring announcement from yesterday had left a tension in the air. Elara and Lyra were already waiting in our small side circle.
Elara noticed immediately. "You look exhausted."
Lyra tilted her head, eyes narrowing. "And you have that look again. The one that says 'I did something stupid and now I'm paying for it.'"
I gave a weak smile, and lifted my arms. "Guilty, as charged."
We started training—mana circulation first. Breathe. Feel the core. Let it flow.
Mine stirred—sluggish, icy, but there. The cold felt sharper today, like shards of glass shifting inside me. Elara's corrections were gentle, her silver threads guiding my flow. Lyra pushed my reflexes lightly—green orbs that hissed through the air.
I blocked. Missed less. Blocked again.
Sweat beaded on my forehead, salty on my lips. My arms burned. The headache pulsed in time with my heartbeat.
At the end, I leaned on my knees, chest heaving. "The backlash… it's worse than I thought."
Elara lowered her hands. "Tell us."
I exhaled, rubbing my temples. "Headache. Vision dulled. Emotional recoil—self-doubt, derealization. Nosebleed. Shaking hands. Felt like the world wasn't real. Like I wasn't real."
Lyra's grin faded. She stepped closer, voice softer. "That's not okay. You can't push it like that again."
Elara's gaze was steady, but worried. "We told you. We'll train it. But slowly."
I hesitated. "There's something else. Last night… the book pulsed. New line appeared."
I pulled the book from the ring. Opened it.
The page stared back:
"The gaze opens the rift. The rift opens the way."
Elara's breath caught. "That's… ominous."
Lyra leaned in, eyes wide. "So using the gaze… makes the rift worse? Or wakes something?"
I nodded slowly. "I think so. Nyx's pulse quickened right after. The crying shifted. Like she was… worried."
Elara's hand rested on my shoulder—warm, grounding. "Then we stop pushing it. We study it. We figure out the limits. Together."
Lyra ruffled my hair—her favorite move. "Hey. You're not alone in this. If the Abyss comes knocking, we kick its ass. As a trio."
I laughed weakly. "Thanks. Really. I just… I don't want to drag you into something I can't control."
Elara's voice was firm. "You're not dragging us. We're choosing this. Family fights together. Remember?"
I nodded, throat tight. "Yeah."
Lyra grinned. "And if the rift opens, we'll just jump in and punch it in the face."
The tension eased—just a little.
We continued training—lighter now. Elara guided my mana flow with quiet corrections. Lyra pushed my reflexes with green orbs. I blocked. Missed less. Blocked again.
The headache dulled. Nyx's pulse in my ring was steady, almost reassuring.
Rumors had already spread through the academy like wildfire. Whispers followed me in the corridors:
"Eryndor broke Taren with a look."
"His eyes turned violet."
"Something's wrong with that F-Class kid."
In Mana Theory, Professor Thorne watched me closely, his gaze lingering longer than usual. When he called on me, his voice was careful.
"Vale. Explain what happens when an undefined affinity tries to resonate with a rift."
I answered quietly. "It resists. The mana doesn't flow smoothly. It fights the core. Leaks. Instability."
Prof. Thorne nodded slowly. "Correct. And if that core… forces a shape anyway?"
The room went quiet.
I met his eyes. "Then the rift grows."
Prof. Thorne's staff tapped once against the floor. "Precisely."
Celine gave me a soft, concerned smile. Raiden nodded thoughtfully. Kael's stare was sharper than usual. Silas offered a quiet "Well done yesterday." Mira whispered "Potion if you need it." Elira watched silently. Taren glared from the back, eyes burning with humiliation.
After class, Lyra linked her arm with mine. "Ignore them. You're our glitch. That's all that matters."
Elara walked on my other side. "And if they push too far… we push back."
We reached the rune hall. Professor Elowyn raised an eyebrow at the three of us.
"Again?"
Lyra grinned. "Moral support, Professor."
Elowyn sighed. "Sit."
The lesson focused on layered intent amplification. I stepped into the circle when called.
Last time, my layers had been shaky.
Today, they held stronger—intent focused, mana flowing cold but steady. Three layers. Four. The shield shimmered, stable, solid.
Elowyn watched. "Better. Much better. Your core is still cold. But the layers are holding. That is… impressive."
Lyra whispered behind me. "Told you. Scary."
Elara's hand brushed my arm—subtle pride.
Class dismissed.
Back in the study, the three of us sat together—Elara at the desk, Lyra on the floor, me in the armchair. Nyx rested on the table, pulsing softly.
Lyra leaned forward. "Okay. Serious talk. That book line. 'The gaze opens the rift.' What does it mean?"
I exhaled. "I think… using the skill too much is making the rift worse. Or waking something."
Elara's voice was quiet. "Then we stop pushing it. We train slowly. Together."
Lyra ruffled my hair. "And if the Abyss comes knocking, we kick its ass. As a trio."
I smiled, throat tight. "Thanks. Really."
Elara's hand rested on my shoulder. "You're not alone anymore. Never again."
I looked at them—and felt the ache in my chest ease.