The amphitheater felt… smaller today.
Not in structure—but in presence.
Volcanic glass walls curved inward like the ribs of some titanic fossil, their obsidian sheen pulsing faintly as though the island itself strained to listen. Residual essence hung in the air—metallic, sharp—like blood mist clinging to cold stone.
Above, the murals of the Twenty-Two Lost Chains shimmered.
Fractured sovereigns.
Broken divinities.
Their hollow eyes glowed faintly, and more than one student felt—irrationally—that those ancient gazes tracked movement below.
Watching.
Remembering.
Waiting.
---
Instructor Harlan paced the podium, dread-crystal stump catching ward-light like black ice. Each step echoed with the weight of battlefield graves.
Instructor Vale stood apart—arms folded, silent.
His Perception Dominion bled subtly into the space. Shadows lagged behind their owners by a heartbeat. Reflections in the volcanic glass moved half a breath too slow.
Layered reality.
Multiple lectures overlapping in unseen dimensions.
"Advanced resonance risks," Harlan began, voice grinding like stone dragged over bone. "Concealed Divine-grade Dominions—true echoes of the Originals—do not simply borrow power."
A holographic array flared to life.
A restricted fragment.
Students straightened instantly.
The silhouette of the **Despair Sovereign** manifested—an abyssal monarch cloaked in compression shadows. Unlike prior displays, its aura did not expand outward.
It folded inward.
Collapsed dread into a singularity that devoured surrounding light.
"They invite feedback," Harlan continued. "From the Veil itself."
The air temperature dipped.
"Environmental leaks. Instinctive recognition from high-Realm perceivers. And worst…"
The projection inverted.
The sovereign's shadow tendrils turned inward—piercing its own chest.
"Unintended inversion. Where the echo commands the bearer… instead of obeying."
A murmur rippled through the amphitheater.
---
"Common nightmare Dominions," Harlan said, gesturing, "invert dread by reflection—turning terror back weakened. But a true Despair echo…"
The singularity deepened.
"…absorbs without loss. Commands inversion in others."
Beat.
"The risk is simple. The bearer dissolves… into the void they wield."
---
Mid-row, Xia Ying listened quietly.
Attentive posture.
Calm breathing.
But internally—
Resonance.
The lecture brushed truth too closely.
Yet still… wrong.
Oversimplified.
His Dominion was no echo.
It was not borrowed.
Not reflected.
It was the Sovereign reborn—unshattered, merely concealed.
Harlan described shadows.
Xia Ying commanded the abyss that birthed them.
---
When the lecture opened for questions, Xia Ying raised his hand.
The motion was unhurried.
Measured.
But Vale's gaze sharpened instantly.
"Speak," Harlan said.
"Instructor," Xia Ying began calmly, "a clarification."
Dozens of eyes shifted toward him.
"Restricted texts distinguish true echoes differently. They do not invert personally."
A pause.
"They enforce inversion externally—compressing terror without spillover."
The hologram flickered faintly.
"Common nightmare paths reflect. Sovereign echoes dominate."
He cited fragments—carefully curated.
Not from public curriculum.
But from slips Vale himself had revealed in private lectures.
"As referenced in the sealed fragment on Original recognition—the Veil does not respond with backlash to concealed sovereign alignment."
A beat of silence.
"But… with recognition. Provided command remains absolute."
---
Stillness swallowed the amphitheater.
Even Harlan paused—reviewing his slate.
"…Accurate," he admitted at last. "The distinction is nuanced. Your grasp exceeds standard curriculum."
Vale's perception tendrils brushed Xia Ying again.
Sharper this time.
Probing deeper.
Searching for concealed depth.
Smoothly—effortlessly—Xia Ying deflected.
---
Cohort reaction rippled outward.
Respect.
Unease.
Recalibration.
Lin Mei turned in her seat, eyes shining with pride.
Wei Jun gave a single approving nod.
Neutral students leaned forward—reassessing threat hierarchies.
At the front row—
Zuo Flameheart's fists clenched so tightly heat shimmered above his knuckles.
Nightmare emphasis diminished flame prestige.
Indirectly.
Publicly.
Intolerably.
---
They grant admiration for fragments revealed, Xia Ying mused.
When the whole emerges…
They will grant fealty.
Or shatter.
---
A faint chill brushed the chamber.
Subtle.
But real.
The Veil tugged.
His Dominion resonated in response to the sovereign discussion—like an ancient beast stirring at the mention of its name.
Vale noticed.
Of course he did.
His head tilted a fraction.
Interest deepened.
---
### Fallout
By corridor release, whispers had already evolved.
Kai Boulderfist remained institutionalized—muttering of "shadows behind his eyes."
Ren Stormcaller screamed nightly about storms that "knew his name."
Now Tor's collapse joined them.
Coincidence had decayed into pattern.
In the vaulted common hall—beneath essence braziers burning blue-white—a loose semicircle formed around Xia Ying as he passed.
Questions came carefully.
Indirectly.
"You were there for Kai… and Ren."
"Flaw crises don't cluster."
"Your aura feels… heavy."
Xia Ying stopped.
Expression calm.
Concerned.
"The island's dread leaks amplify weaknesses," he said evenly. "Embodiment strain manifests differently per individual."
Logical.
Measured.
Reassuring.
Yet—
Ambient dread thickened.
Because seeds he had planted earlier… were blooming.
Fear of proximity.
Guilt over abandoning fallen peers.
Paranoia seeking explanation.
---
Tor snapped first.
Eyes glazed.
Hands clawed at his scalp.
"It's watching—knows I'm weak—"
He collapsed, trembling violently.
A minor nightmare echo manifested—stone flesh crumbling beneath imagined judgment.
Students recoiled.
Panic flared.
Instructors intervened swiftly.
But the damage was done.
---
Fear surged through the hall in a single unified wave.
And Xia Ying drank it in.
Passively.
Silently.
The harvest was immense—thicker than individual breakdowns.
Collective dread.
Sustained anxiety.
His core thrummed, compressing the influx.
Dread Projection stabilized further—duration extending, personalization sharpening instinctively.
Fear of proximity…
He reflected inwardly.
The purest feast.
They feed me… by fearing to feed me.
---
### Vale's Summons
The crimson interface arrived by evening.
**Private Mentorship — Instructor Vale**
His office lay deep within warded faculty corridors.
A perception chamber.
Mirrors lined every wall—reflecting infinite Xia Yings:
Delayed versions.
Distorted selves.
Truths half-revealed.
Vale sat behind an obsidian desk.
His reflections did not align perfectly.
"Sit."
Xia Ying complied.
Concealment layered tight.
---
Vale spoke without preamble.
"Your correction cited restricted texts. Shared privately."
A pause.
"With select students."
Silver perception tendrils emerged—visible now—probing Xia Ying's shadow veil.
"You. And the Flaw crises align precisely with your proximity."
Kai.
Ren.
Tor.
"I sense concealed depth," Vale said quietly.
"Not merely Lord of Nightmares."
The tendrils pressed harder.
"A Divine echo, perhaps."
Mirrors rippled.
"Something that commands the abyss… rather than borrows it."
His gaze locked fully.
"Despair Sovereign resonance?"
---
The probe intensified.
Reflections tried to reveal his true signature.
Xia Ying met his gaze steadily.
Then responded with layered misdirection.
Partial truth.
Calculated vulnerability.
"I conceal depth to avoid clan attention," he said calmly. "Registration masks resonance."
Truth.
"Flameheart pressures unaligned potentials."
Truth again.
"The crises stem from island leaks amplifying weak Flaws."
Plausible truth.
"I study nightmare paths deeply. Perhaps my aura stabilizes mine… but echoes in others."
A beat.
Then he pivoted—subtly flattering.
"If it is an echo, it is faint. I seek control, not dissolution."
He leaned slightly forward.
"Your perception sees furthest, Instructor. How would one confirm… without risking Veil feedback?"
---
Vale's tendrils slowed.
Withdrew gradually.
Suspicion remained.
But intrigue replaced aggression.
"Prudent concealment," Vale admitted.
"Clans chain ambition early."
He produced sealed scrolls—placing them across the desk.
"Study these. Privately."
Fragments of the Despair Sovereign Chain.
Embodiment techniques.
Original recognition markers.
Veiled warnings of Veil alignment.
"If depth stirs," Vale finished quietly, "command it… or it commands you."
---
Xia Ying accepted with a respectful inclination.
"Your guidance pierces where others remain blind."
Mutual wariness lingered.
Mentor.
Observer.
Potential adversary.
---
He glimpses closest… Xia Ying thought while leaving.
Yet mistakes sovereign for echo.
Let him mentor the ascent he fears.
---
### Nightfall Threads
Lin Mei came first.
Soft knock.
Worry etched across her face.
"They're saying things about you."
Her voice trembled.
"But they're wrong. You protect us. You helped me when no one else did."
Devotion burned fiercely in her eyes.
Xia Ying reinforced her stability gently—refined essence easing lingering Flaw tremors.
"Whispers fear what they don't understand," he said softly. "Stay close. I'll shield you."
She clasped his hand briefly.
"Always."
Loyalty deepened another layer.
---
Wei Jun arrived as she left.
"Zuo's unraveling," he reported. "Destroyed three training dummies. Flames unstable."
He leaned closer.
"Flameheart envoy arriving soon. Clan push accelerating his advancement."
"Tourney seeding?" Xia Ying asked.
"Political now. Your academic rise flagged you."
Xia Ying nodded once.
"Alliance holds."
Wei Jun grunted approval and vanished back into shadowed corridors.
---
### Midnight Refinement
Alone at last, Xia Ying sat cross-legged.
He processed the day's harvest:
Cohort fear wave.
Tor's collapse.
Residual lecture resonance.
His core surged—power nearing another threshold.
Scrolls from Vale unfurled beside him.
Embodiment without detection.
Signs of Original awakening.
At the dormitory window, volcanic glow painted the sea crimson.
And beyond—
The Veil whispered louder.
Fragments coherent now.
Recognition stirring.
---
They probe my depth… and find only permitted glimpses.
He closed his eyes.
Aura compressing inward.
The abyss listening back.
The tournament approaches…
When it begins—
They will not study shadows.
They will witness the abyss gazing back.