The memory didn't fade in like the others.
It rushed in.
Like a scream through water.
Lyle staggered, blinking as the sky exploded above him—purple fire raining down on white towers.
Juno caught her balance beside him just as the illusion solidified.
They weren't in a vision.
They were inside a war.
---
Smoke and glyphfire crackled through the air.
Creatures—half man, half spirit—rushed across burning bridges made of spelllight.
Above, ancient warships hovered, casting down containment sigils the size of cities.
And in the center of it all, a single structure stood untouched:
A spiral library, pulsing gold beneath a dome of shield magic.
"The Codex's birthplace," Lyle whispered.
"The last bastion of free magic," said a voice behind them.
They turned.
It was the Author again—appearing now as he had in his youth. No cloak. Just a scholar's robe, blood on his sleeve, ink on his fingers.
"I told them not to fight," he said. "Told them knowledge had to flow freely."
He walked with them toward the edge of a shattered balcony.
"But fear," he continued, "is a better spell than anything I ever wrote."
---
They stood beside him, watching history bleed.
The Author lifted a finger.
Pointed toward a colossal emblem in the sky—glowing with thousands of linked glyphs, held in place by a dozen Academy forerunners.
"That's the Seal."
Juno narrowed her eyes.
"The one that cut the world off from true magic?"
The Author nodded.
"They called it peace. I called it erasure."
Lyle clenched his fists.
"But they left the Codex."
The Author turned slowly.
"No. They buried it. Hid it in bloodlines. Fragmented its language. Made it so only someone willing to relive our pain could ever awaken it."
He looked at Lyle.
"You're not chosen because of power."
"You're chosen because you still listen."
---
Below, the war reached its end.
The library shattered.
The Seal pulsed.
And the sky tore open as all wild magic was sucked into containment.
The vision began to break—pages tearing from the edges of the world.
Juno shouted, "What happens if we stay too long?"
Lyle didn't answer.
He just stared at the final image.
A figure holding a younger version of the Author—shielding him from the collapse.
A mother.
Burning.
So her child could live.
---
The Codex whispered softly as the memory collapsed:
> [Truth Acknowledged]
Root complete.
Threadbond with partner stabilized.
Final directive available: Rewrite Protocol.
Would you like to begin rewriting the Seal?
Lyle's hand trembled over the Codex.
Juno stepped closer.
"Do we even know what happens if we say yes?"
"No," Lyle murmured.
"But the fact it's asking means we're further than anyone's ever gotten."
He didn't press it.
Not yet.
Because something cold brushed the edge of his awareness.
A pulse.
A glyph not tied to the Codex.
He turned slowly…
…and knew.
> Valen was here.
> And he wasn't alone anymore.