The sea mist returned with the dawn.
It rolled over the ruined courtyard like a blanket, softening the edges of broken stone and burned steel. The fire was gone. The smoke had thinned. Only the smell of ash remained — sharp, metallic, clinging to everything.
Jayden sat on the steps of the infirmary, wrapped in a grey blanket. His left arm was bandaged from wrist to elbow, though he barely remembered how he got the burn. The healers moved around him in quiet rhythm — checking pulses, muttering about essence contamination, logging names.
The Academy's heart still pulsed, faint and steady. Drones hummed overhead, carrying away debris from the night before. The once-glorious courtyard was now a hollow scar, its center scorched black where the Gate had collapsed.
Kael sat beside him, arm in a sling, hair half-scorched and sticking up in every direction. He tried to smirk but ended up coughing instead.
"You know," he croaked, "I thought this place was supposed to be safe."
Jayden gave a low hum — not quite laughter, not quite agreement. His eyes stayed on the horizon, where the sun fought its way through a veil of lingering smoke.
Across the plaza, instructors argued with repair teams. The air buzzed with restrained panic. Words like containment breach, classification anomaly, and unregistered Gate signature passed between them. None of it made sense to the students — and maybe it wasn't supposed to.
Theo limped by, muttering something about "structural feedback interference." Reno trailed behind him, face pale but eyes bright, as if he'd just witnessed a god and couldn't decide whether to worship or run.
For a moment, Jayden envied their simplicity.
He leaned back against the cold stair rail, the memory of last night replaying uninvited — the roar, the heat, the way the headmaster had looked when he said Return. It wasn't power; it was control. Like the world had been waiting for his permission to breathe again.
Kael followed his gaze. "You think he's human?"
Jayden frowned slightly. "What else would he be?"
Kael's laugh was dry. "Something we shouldn't piss off."
They fell quiet.
A soft chime echoed from the plaza loudspeakers. The Academy seal appeared in the air — a circle of mirrored lines that rippled like water.
"All students are to gather in the central atrium for emergency debriefing," a calm voice announced. "Attendance is mandatory."
Kael groaned. "Perfect. A speech."
Jayden stood slowly, joints aching, and followed the flow of uniforms toward the main building. The halls were half-lit, the polished metal panels now cracked and stained with soot. The Academy's perfection had been broken — and in that imperfection, it finally looked real.
The atrium was silent.
Hundreds of students filled the amphitheater, their chatter muted by exhaustion and awe. At the center, where the holographic map usually shimmered, stood Headmaster Varrick.
He wore no coat this time. The edges of his uniform were torn, his sleeve burned through. And yet, he stood as though nothing had happened. His presence filled the room — not loud, not overbearing, just inevitable.
His gaze swept across the hall once, and the whispering stopped.
When he spoke, his voice carried the weight of still air before a storm.
"Last night, the Academy was attacked."
The words dropped like anchors.
"A breach occurred within Gate 17 — one classified as sealed. A Guardian slipped through before containment could stabilize."
A ripple of shock passed through the students. Someone in the back whispered, "But sealed Gates can't open—" before being shushed by an instructor.
Varrick continued.
"Containment protocols were successful. The threat was neutralized. But understand this—"
He paused, his gaze lifting slightly. "What happened last night was not a test. It was a reminder."
The air seemed to tighten.
"Power is not safety. Knowledge is not immunity. The Codex rewards strength, but it does not forgive arrogance. You are all Unlocked now — and that means the world sees you."
Jayden's chest tightened at that. The world sees you.
He wasn't sure if that was comforting or terrifying.
Varrick let the silence linger before continuing.
"Classes will resume after the restoration phase. All field trials are suspended until further notice. Those injured will remain in the infirmary until cleared."
He started to turn, then paused, as though remembering something important.
"Remember this, Aspirants: mastery begins where fear ends. But wisdom…" He looked over the crowd once more. "…wisdom begins when you realize fear is never gone."
The words hung there long after he'd walked away.
Later, the students were dismissed. The Academy returned to motion — slower, quieter, humbled.
Jayden walked alone along the perimeter deck overlooking the sea. Below, the floating rings of the Academy glowed faintly in the mist. The waters were calm again. Deceptively so.
He placed his hand on the railing and let the breeze cool his skin.
A soft pulse stirred beneath his ribs — faint, rhythmic. The same feeling he'd sensed when the runes first appeared.
He didn't summon them this time. He didn't need to.
He simply let the thought form.
And the glow answered.
Tiny symbols unfolded across his vision, faint and fluid, like reflections dancing on water.
[Core: 1 — Beast (Stabilized)]
[Relic Bound: Moonshine Blades]
• Forged from condensed lunar residue. Their edge shifts between liquid and light.*
• Abilities: Flow Step (Phase movement), Veil Cut (Water form strike).
[Legacy Awakening: Eye of Creation — ???]
The symbols hovered for a heartbeat, then dissolved into mist.
Jayden stared at the space they left behind. His reflection shimmered faintly in the glass wall, eyes darker than he remembered.
He whispered, almost to himself,
"…what are you?"
The answer didn't come. Only the rhythm of the sea below, endless and patient.
He stayed there until the mist grew thick again, until the lights of the Academy dimmed into the horizon — until the chaos of the night felt like a dream that refused to fade.