The light faded slowly, leaving behind the sound of cracking ice and the low hum of something colossal stirring beneath them. The air felt heavy — charged — as if Mars itself had taken a breath.
Luna pulled Eris to his feet. His eyes still burned faintly silver.
"Eris, talk to me! What did you see?"
He blinked, voice trembling. "A seal… and a voice. It called to me — said the end begins anew."
Major Vex raised his weapon, scanning the crater's depths. "Whatever that thing is, it's not staying buried anymore."
The ground trembled again — a slow, rhythmic vibration like a heartbeat beneath the planet's skin. Cracks raced across the frozen plain, glowing veins of light spreading in every direction.
From the pit below, something vast began to emerge — not fully formed, not flesh nor metal, but energy given shape. It shimmered, coalescing into an enormous form wrapped in translucent crystal armor. Its face was hidden behind a mask of fractured runes.
Alira stumbled back. "By the void… is that a god?"
"No," Eris whispered, his voice hollow. "It's worse. It's a Sentinel."
The being's voice rolled through the air, ancient and commanding:
"The seal is undone. The blood of the Sovereign returns. The balance shall tremble once more."
The survivors could hardly stand beneath its presence. Their suits buzzed from electromagnetic overload, and the sky above flickered crimson.
Kael shouted through the storm, "We have to fall back! If that thing fully wakes—"
But it was too late. The Sentinel's gaze locked onto Eris. Time seemed to slow.
Its hand, larger than a ship's hull, reached forward. Instead of crushing him, it touched the ground — and from the point of contact, runes ignited in a circle around Eris, binding him in a column of light.
Luna screamed. "Eris!"
He couldn't move. His voice echoed like thunder in his own skull.
Visions poured into his mind — flashes of the ancient war of gods, the fall of the Seven, and the moment their power was sealed in him before the end of the first age.
Then came the last image — the One Being, chained and whispering from the void:
"You are my successor. The chain will break when your heart accepts the truth."
Eris's scream shattered the light. He fell to his knees, gasping. The Sentinel froze. For the first time, its head bowed.
"Then the Sovereign stirs indeed," it said, voice softening into reverence.
It began to sink back into the ice, retreating into its prison.
Before vanishing fully, it spoke one last phrase:
"When the red sun bleeds thrice, the Gate shall open. Be ready, Heir of the Seven."
The light dimmed. The hum faded. Silence returned — broken only by the ragged breaths of the survivors.
Luna knelt beside him. "Eris… what did it mean?"
He looked at her with haunted eyes. "It means Mars isn't dead… it's waiting."
And from far above, orbiting Mars' shadow, a probe from Earth's expedition base recorded the entire event — transmitting it straight to Dr. Helena Vale, who stared at the footage in disbelief.
"The Heir of the Seven…" she whispered. "He's real."