Chapter 12 – The Fractured Dawn (Part 1)
The morning after St. Kareth's collapse was a strange kind of quiet. The air hung thick with static, humming faintly with the leftover current of Rift energy. Smoke drifted through the valley like a living thing, curling around the shattered stone of what had once been the Academy's proud spire. Now it lay in ruins, half-swallowed by fog and shadow – a monument to human arrogance and divine punishment.
Kairo stood at the edge of the wreckage, his cloak tattered, his eyes dull gold in the pale light. The dawn painted the world in muted colours, as if afraid to show its face after what had happened here.
Behind him, Reika and Taro emerged from the fissured corridor that had once led to the main observatory. Reika's armour was scorched, her hair matted with soot. Taro's usual grin was gone – replaced by a faint tremor in his hands as he stared up at the broken spire.
"So…" he said finally, voice small. "That's it? The great St. Kareth's Academy. Gone. Just like that."
Reika nodded slowly. "All those years of research, all those experiments. Wiped out."
Kairo didn't respond. His gaze was locked on the ruins, but his thoughts were far away - replaying fragments of the past that the Rift had unearthed. The children in tanks. The laughter that wasn't laughter. The cold voice that had told him he was meant for more.
He whispered, "No. Not wiped out. The ghosts don't die here. They just change shape."
Taro crouched near a fragment of metal half-buried in ash. It was a nameplate – "SUBJECT 09 – TARO VELLIS." He froze, then picked it up, brushing away the soot.
He stared at it for a long time before slipping it into his pocket. "Guess I was real to them once."
Reika turned to him, her tone soft. "You're real to us now. That's what matters."
He smiled faintly, but there was no joy behind it. "Yeah…I'll try to remember that."
Kairo finally turned from the ruins. His expression was unreadable, the golden light in his eyes dimmed like dying embers. "We need to move. The Custodians won't stop here. If they know what we've seen – if they know the truth about what St. Kareth was really doing – they'll come for us."
Reika straightened. "Then we head east. There's an outpost near the Aetherline Ridge. It's old, but safe."
Taro stretched, wincing as his shoulder cracked. "Safe sounds good. I vote for safe. And maybe breakfast. Preferably something that doesn't scream when you cook it."
Despite herself, Reika let out a small laugh. It sounded strange in the silence, but it was the kind of sound that reminded them they were still alive.
As they walked away from the ruins, Kairo looked back one last time. The smoke had begun to clear, and through it, he thought he saw a faint silhouette standing among the rubble – tall, dark and crowned with light.
The Tyrant King.
For an instant, he heard the voice in his head – his own, yet not.
"You can't run from what you are. You can't hide from fire. It always finds its way home."
Kairo clenched his fists, forcing the thought away. "Not this time."
He turned and followed the others into the mist.