The breach came without warning.
One moment, the sanctuary's training hall was still—fractured stone settling, containment sigils cooling. The next, every warning glyph along the outer ring flared crimson at once.
Lune stiffened first.
"Multiple signatures," she said sharply. "Low mass, high intent."
Kael's eyes snapped open. He was already trying to stand.
"Don't," Ari said, moving instinctively to steady him.
Kael ignored him.
"This isn't a test," Kael said, voice tight. "This is a response."
The walls shuddered.
A thin seam split the air itself, like a blade slicing space. From it stepped three figures—humanoid, armored in segmented plates that reflected no light. Their faces were hidden behind smooth helms etched with rotating symbols.
Not Observers.
Enforcers.
Mika's power flared reflexively.
"Targets acquired," one Enforcer said, voice metallic and flat. "Containment priority: successors."
Ari felt the word hit like a hook.
Successors.
Kael took a step forward—and staggered.
"Stand down," Kael ordered. "This ground is sealed."
The Enforcers did not acknowledge him.
Instead, the floor beneath Ari dropped.
Not collapsed—removed.
Ari fell.
Instinct screamed.
He reached.
Power surged without permission, snapping into a dense field beneath him. He hit it hard, pain jolting through his legs, but he stayed upright.
Too upright.
The impact rippled outward, shattering nearby stone.
"Containment breach detected," an Enforcer said. "Escalating."
Mika roared and charged.
He didn't think.
He didn't negotiate.
He reacted.
The force of his strike was monstrous—raw power wrapped around his fist as he slammed it into the nearest Enforcer. The armor dented inward with a thunderous crack, the figure launched backward through two pillars.
For a heartbeat, Mika grinned.
Then the Enforcer reassembled mid-air.
Plates shifted. Symbols rewrote.
It landed, unharmed.
"Damage insufficient," it said.
Mika's grin vanished.
Lune moved.
Golden threads snapped outward, weaving a stabilizing lattice across the hall. The fractures slowed. The falling debris froze mid-drop, suspended.
But her breath hitched.
"They're adapting," she warned. "Every reaction is being logged."
Kael slammed his hand against the floor, forcing a localized seal into place. The sanctuary groaned in protest.
"Stop reacting!" Kael shouted. "You're feeding them data!"
Too late.
The second Enforcer raised its arm. A cone of pale light erupted, pinning Mika in place. The pressure crushed down, forcing him to one knee.
Mika snarled, trying to push back.
The cone intensified.
Ari moved without thinking.
He stepped between Mika and the Enforcer.
The light hit him instead.
Pain exploded through his chest. His vision blurred. His power surged again, instinctively forming layers—too many, too fast.
The air screamed.
The Enforcer paused.
"Instability spike detected," it said. "Threshold exceeded."
The third Enforcer turned—not toward Ari, but toward Lune.
She felt it.
Her eyes widened.
"No—!"
The Enforcer raised its hand, deploying a containment prism identical to the one Kael had used earlier—only stronger. It snapped into place around Lune, sealing her off completely.
Ari's heart dropped.
"Lune!"
Inside the prism, Lune staggered—but didn't panic.
She closed her eyes.
Kael's voice cut through the chaos.
"Lune, don't break it."
Her eyes snapped open.
"…What?"
"If you shatter it," Kael said, strained but focused, "they'll confirm your threat rating."
The prism pulsed.
The Enforcer spoke. "Containment successful. Beginning extraction."
The prism started to move.
Ari felt something tear inside him.
"No," he said.
The word carried weight.
Not force.
Decision.
He didn't reach for power.
He reached for space.
The threads Lune had woven earlier—still lingering, still stabilizing—shifted. Ari nudged them, not bending them, but reassigning their purpose.
The prism slowed.
Then stopped.
The Enforcer froze.
"Command conflict detected," it said.
Ari's voice was steady now.
"She stays."
Mika felt the pressure ease and ripped himself free, standing unsteadily.
Kael stared at Ari.
"…You learned faster than I hoped," Kael whispered.
The Enforcers recalculated in unison.
"Deviation confirmed," one said. "Risk unacceptable."
They moved together.
Not attacking.
Withdrawing.
The prism around Lune dissolved harmlessly. The Enforcers stepped backward into folding seams of space.
"Containment postponed," the lead Enforcer said. "Escalation scheduled."
They vanished.
Silence crashed down.
The sanctuary groaned, cracks spreading further along the walls.
Mika dropped to a knee, breathing hard. "That… wasn't training."
Lune stumbled as Ari caught her.
"I almost broke it," she admitted quietly. "If I had… they would've known."
Kael finally sank back onto the platform, exhaustion carving deep lines into his face.
"This," he said softly, "is the price of reacting."
Ari looked at his hands.
They were shaking.
"I didn't mean to—"
"I know," Kael said. "That's the problem."
He met Ari's eyes.
"They aren't afraid of your power," Kael continued. "They're afraid of your decisions."
Mika frowned. "So what now?"
Kael closed his eyes.
"Now," he said, "they stop watching from a distance."
Outside the sanctuary, reality shifted again—quietly, deliberately.
The world was no longer testing.
It was preparing.