Marra found herself standing in a wide, open field. The sky above was dim, silver clouds glowing faintly with moonlight. Rows of tents stretched across the landscape—military canvas, Shadowclaw sigils stitched along their sides.
The war summit? she thought, brows furrowing. Interesting.
She walked slowly between the tents. Everything felt impossibly real—the weight of the grass beneath her boots, the cold brush of wind against her arms. A dream, yes. Vivid. Something would happen here.
She passed the command tent and paused.
Inside stood Cael, pacing with a map in hand, and Colonel Brutus Sterling standing stiffly beside him. But no Fin. No Elle. No Nova.
She assumed this must be in the near future, because Nova wasn't there.
Curious, she stepped into the tent. Neither man noticed her. No surprise. Aeron burst into the tent, breathless. Sweat clung to his brow like he'd run there.
His eyes locked directly onto her.
Marra froze.
"Can you… see me?" she asked cautiously.
Aeron didn't answer. His brows drew together as he stepped closer, slowly reaching a hand out toward her.
It passed straight through her chest.
Marra tilted her head. "You can sense me… Interesting."
"No," Aeron said slowly. "I see you. Vividly."
Shocked, she asked, "Can you hear me?"
"Not exactly," he said. "But my soul can."
Cael turned toward him, confused. "Who are you talking to?"
Marra's breath caught in her throat. That's not possible. No one had ever seen her in a dream before. No one but Michael—and only when he dreamed. Never like this.
Never while she was dreaming of the future. Aeron was thinking the same thing, but for an entirely different reason.
"That's… impossible," Aeron muttered. "Unless…"
He looked back at Cael. "Marra is dreaming this right now. I think… I think I'm seeing her in real time."
He turned back to her, eyes sharper now. "Marra, where are you supposed to be in this dream? What are you being shown?"
Marra exhaled slowly. She drew in a breath, grounding herself, trying to feel her purpose in this space.
A strange pressure in her chest urged her to move outside now. She stepped out of the command tent and froze.
Her eyes flickered to the horizon. Aeron followed her line of sight.
A black cloud loomed in the distance. It stretched from one edge of the sky to the other, wide as the sea and just as suffocating. Like liquid darkness. Veins of shadow pulsed within it, and something like black rain fell from its base. It was too far away to tell. It hovered, suspended like mist, crawling forward.
It was moving fast. Too fast.
"I think we need to evacuate," Marra said, unease dripping into her voice. "No one is supposed to touch that."
Aeron's jaw tightened. "Come with me."
He took off running, Marra behind him, both heading straight for the Redmoon command tent. The flaps whipped open just as they arrived. Hyran was already stepping outside. He felt it. Something wasn't right.
Aeron didn't need to say a word. His gaze flicked to the black storm, and Hyran followed it.
"We need to evacuate everyone," Aeron said grimly.
"Portals," Marra added quickly. "Tents won't be enough."
Rex stepped out behind Hyran, barely adjusting his armor before Hyran barked, "Get the dragons in the air. Now. Opposite direction, full speed."
Rex didn't hesitate. He bolted toward the dragon fields, sprinting hard across the packed earth, already whistling for the signal.
Hyran mindlinked Alpha Redmoon. In a flash, a handful of lieutenants burst from the tent and scattered, racing through the camp like streaks of light.
Then—chaos. The entire war camp erupted into movement. Everywhere—shouts, mindlinks, wind, and fear.
"My father… we don't have a mage," Marra said, panic creeping into her voice.
"Did we get a portal to Balen?" Aeron asked, voicing her worries to Hyran.
"I will send one of our mages to handle it." Hyran said.
Hyran spoke again a few seconds later. "Just received confirmation—Balen accepted and they are funneling troops into Bloodmoon as we speak."
Marra glanced at the creeping storm. "What is that from?" she asked. She knew Hyran wouldn't hear her.
"Black rain," Aeron replied without hesitation. "Possibly residual fallout from the magic reserve explosion, but it's… off. That rain shouldn't be that harmful. But if you're here—right now, in real time—then something else is coming. Something worse."
As Aeron spoke, Hyran turned slightly toward the spot Marra stood. His gaze lingered on the air beside Aeron, reading the conversation he couldn't hear. A slow grin curved his lips.
"Interesting…" Hyran said, his voice full of intrigue. "Is it Marra?"
Aeron didn't look away. He just nodded once, grinning back. "Yes."
"Very rare," Hyran mused. "For a soul to reveal itself across the veil like this. I must get the last portal open—stay safe, my friend."
"We'll meet again very soon," Aeron said.
Hyran bowed slightly toward Aeron before turning and vanishing through the nearest tent flap.
Aeron turned sharply to Marra, urgency flaring in his eyes. "Come with me."
Together, they sprinted through the chaos as the black cloud loomed over the horizon, swallowing the sky in an unnatural curtain.
Tents whipped and snapped as the wind picked up. The rain hadn't reached them yet—but it would any minute. The scent of chemicals filled the air, and the wind had picked up fast—wild and unnatural, snapping tents and flags like paper.
They didn't have much time.
Captains shouted orders over the howl of rising wind. Warriors sprinted off the training fields—some in full gear, others still covered in chalk and sweat from drills. They moved in organized chaos, grabbing weapons mid-run or leaving them behind.
At the Shadowclaw command tent, Cael and Colonel Sterling were already in motion, issuing orders with ruthless efficiency pulling their men off the field.
Aeron dropped to his knees beside them, conjuring a portal with a flash of light. Then—shockingly—another. And then one more. Three total.
Marra's eyes widened. No other mage on the field had opened more than one. Aeron's brow was slick with sweat, his arms trembling slightly from the sheer exertion—but the portals held.
Cael didn't hesitate. His voice cut through the noise like steel:
"Sterling! Take Crimson and Gold Squads to the far-left portal—now!"
Colonel Sterling saluted and sprinted off, bellowing for his captains.
Cael turned, voice booming again. "Silver and Echo Squads—center portal! Shields up! Stay tight!"
The warriors nearest the middle surged into motion, some already locking shields and spears in formation as they funneled through.
Cael barely gave them a second glance before turning again.
"Nightshade and Iron Fang—on me! Rear guard! Right portal! Go, go, go!"
The third group—grittier, bloodied from training—rushed toward the final portal like wolves answering a call.
"Double file, no stragglers!" Cael shouted, stepping into the path of a few younger warriors and pointing them toward the correct gate. "If you're breathing, you're moving!"
Sterling's squad disappeared through the left portal in a disciplined blur. The center portal surged with Silver and Echo. The right began to pull rear squads through just as the first few droplets of black rain hit the far ridge—and hissed against the earth like acid.
Then, turning back toward the troops, Cael shouted:
"Shadowclaw doesn't get caught in storms. Shadowclaw commands them. MOVE!"
Troops surged forward—shoulders squared, weapons ready—as they disappeared in pairs through the glowing gates.
The black rain had reached the far hills now, descending in long sheets. They had moments—maybe less.
There were maybe a hundred Shadowclaw warriors left on the field now, funneling through Aeron's portals as fast as discipline allowed. But the rain was coming fast. Too fast. The sky above them was almost completely swallowed by the black cloud.
Then—
Ssssss—
The first drop of black rain struck the earth in the open field beyond them. Smoke curled upward in a thin white ribbon.
Another drop landed. Then another.
The earth sizzled.
And a hundred feet away, the grass burst into a hissing patch of steam.
Marra's blood ran cold.
"Move!" Cael roared, waving the remaining units toward the portals.
Shadowclaw lieutenants herded their troops inside in twos and threes, shoving the slowest forward. Warriors leapt through the shimmering rifts just as the rain line advanced over the nearest row of tents.
Fifteen feet.
Ten.
The canvas hissed and dissolved where the rain hit it, edges smoking as if eaten through by acid.
"Go! GO!" Cael shoved a lieutenant ahead of him, turning back to ensure the field was clear.
Aeron, exhausted and shaking, stepped toward the last portal—his leg just crossing the threshold—
A black droplet hit him.
SIZZLE—
He screamed—a raw, ripping sound—as smoke billowed from where it struck the side of his calf.
"—AERON!" Cael shouted, lunging.
Another droplet hit Cael's shoulder as he reached him.
The sound was worse this time. Flesh hissing. Burning. Steam rising in a violent burst.
Cael didn't hesitate. Even as pain tore through him, he grabbed Aeron under the arms and shoved him hard through the portal.
His own legs buckled.
A growl ripped out of him—half agony, half defiance—as he fell forward. The rain hit again, splashing across his back in searing droplets.
Cael collapsed beside the portal frame.
And the sky finally opened fully above them.