Location: Headmaster's Office – Night, Storms Above Ashenwell
The wind howled outside the stainedglass dome of the tower. Grim sat silently, the echo of that core's voice still ringing in his head.
"Welcome back, Subject 04A."
Across from him, the Headmaster of Ashenwell sat in quiet contemplation. No desk between them. Just truth.
Grim's hands were clenched tight. Sparks lay on his shoulder—glitching, dim, flickering in and out of cohesion.
Zariya stood nearby, her eyes wary but silent.
"Say it," Grim finally growled. "No riddles. No more shadows. Just say it."
The Headmaster exhaled slowly, a swirl of frost and flame dancing from his breath. His voice was a thundercloud in winter.
"You were never born."
"You were activated."
The Prototype Project
"There was a time," the Headmaster said, "when the kingdoms feared extinction. War. Collapse. The Court's rise."
"A solution was devised—merge the ancient bloodlines, echoforge a vessel using fire, space, and memory tethering. A warrior that could learn. Adapt. Survive."
Grim's pulse thundered.
"I'm not real?"
"You're the most real," the Headmaster said coldly. "You've earned your soul by surviving what no one else could."
Zariya's whisper broke the silence.
"How many others?"
The Headmaster didn't flinch. "Fortythree failed. Grim was Subject 04A. The only one that lived."
Sparks – Fading Fast
Sparks stirred weakly, her voice soft like static over broken speakers.
"Grim… I'm slipping…"
Her energy was unraveling. The feedback from the Archive's echo core had triggered something deep in her soulfragment.
"If we don't fix her soon…" Zariya trailed off. "She'll disappear."
Grim turned, voice firm.
"What do we need?"
The Headmaster stood. "A vessel. Crafted with Etherstabilized runes. Strong enough to hold both machine and soul."
Zariya nodded. "I'll call in the third years' forge division. They owe me."
"Make it beautiful," Grim whispered, brushing Sparks's flickering cheek. "Make it hers."
The Court Moves First
Far across Oruin, in a citadel made of boneglass and moonlight, the Court stirred.
A robed figure placed a hand on a cracked mirror.
"Subject 04A is reactivating."
Another leaned close.
"And the Witch of Elements dares help him."
"Then we change the script," said a voice older than memory. "Strike before his soul rebinds."
The mirror cracked.
A name echoed through the chamber like a threat:
"Solace."
Back at Ashenwell – Before Dawn
Zariya escorted Grim back to Solace Tower. Neither spoke.
Before she left, she paused at the door.
"I didn't help you because I pitied you. I helped because we're not mistakes."
Grim looked at her. "And Sparks?"
"She's your anchor," Zariya said. "But she might be more. And if she's gone—"
"—I'm not letting her go," Grim cut in.
Sparks, even fading, smirked faintly from where she hovered, barely stable.
"Don't get soft now, Solace. We still have a planet to shake."