"The Empire's shadows do not hide the truth—they erase it."
— Whispered proverb of the Aurelid undercourts
🌌 The Calm Before
The training grounds of Rynvale Academy glittered in morning light, every strike of steel echoing through crisp air.
Kael stood alone at the far edge, repeating the same motion again and again—blade, breath, pivot, parry—each swing a prayer to discipline.
Eren called across the field, "You're going to wear a trench in the dirt, Chain-boy."
Kael didn't look up. "Then the dirt will learn my form."
Lira rolled her eyes from beneath her hood. "You've barely slept."
"I don't need sleep."
He did, of course—but the chains within him refused silence. Every night they thrummed louder, feeding on his training, matching his rhythm until even his heartbeat obeyed them.
⚙️ The Notice
The Academy bell tolled twice—an unusual summons.
Students gathered as an armored envoy approached, cloaked in black silk etched with silver runes: the mark of the Imperial Audit.
Whispers spread like fire.
"That's a Sigil Knight…"
"Why would they send one here?"
The envoy halted before the Head Instructor, handing him a sealed parchment bound with a wax emblem—a black circle crossed by four chains.
The instructor's face paled.
"The Black Sigil," Selene whispered beside Kael.
Kael frowned. "Who are they?"
Selene's voice was barely a breath. "They hunt secrets."
🩸 The Interrogation
Hours later, the courtyard emptied under command of the Audit.
Kael sat on a wooden bench outside the administrative hall, hands steady, though the chains beneath his skin vibrated like struck metal.
When the door opened, two knights in obsidian armor gestured him in.
The chamber was bare—just a desk, a crystal lantern, and the Sigil Knight who waited behind it.
No insignia. No name. Only the faint outline of runes crawling under their skin like living ink.
"Kael Dravenhart," the knight said, voice smooth as glass. "Son of Darius Dravenhart. Student of Rynvale Academy. Level thirty."
Kael stayed silent.
The knight tilted their head. "Reports suggest unusual mana activity near the Verdant Abyss two weeks ago. You were seen returning from that area."
Kael's pulse quickened. "So?"
"So," the knight said softly, "we are tasked with verifying anomalies that may threaten Imperial equilibrium. You will submit to a Resonance Scan."
Kael clenched his fists beneath the desk. The chains stirred instantly, reacting to the foreign pressure in the air.
The knight extended a gloved hand, mana sigils blooming like frost across the floor. "Do not resist."
He didn't intend to.
But the chains did.
The air cracked. The lantern flickered. Silver light exploded from Kael's arm, coiling upward before he could even move.
[Warning: Chain Resonance Active]
The knight's eyes widened. "Mythic…?"
Kael forced his hand down, grinding his teeth until the light faded. The floor smoked where the runes had burned out.
Silence.
Then the knight exhaled slowly. "Interesting."
⚖️ A Shadow's Interest
Instead of arresting him, the Sigil Knight smiled faintly.
"You will report to the capital within the month. The Emperor values… rare talent."
Kael met their gaze. "And if I refuse?"
"Then you will still come," the knight said. "One way or another."
They turned, cloak whispering like smoke, and left him alone with the smell of scorched air.
Kael stared at his hands—no glow now, just skin—but the chains thrummed in quiet fury.
🕯️ Aftermath
That night, the group met again atop the cliffs.
The wind howled, carrying the city's faint lights below.
Eren kicked at a rock. "So they noticed."
"Of course they did," Selene said. "The Black Sigil always notices."
Lira looked at Kael. "What will you do?"
Kael gazed toward the horizon where Sol Aurea's golden glow painted the clouds.
"What I've always done," he said quietly. "Get stronger."
🔗 In the Capital
Far away, within the throne hall of Sol Aurea, the Emperor stood before a suspended sphere of light showing the faint outline of a boy bound in spectral chains.
Beside him, the same black-armored knight knelt.
"The Chain Sovereign stirs, Your Majesty."
The Emperor's golden eyes narrowed. "Then the old prophecy was true."
He raised one hand; invisible bindings shimmered in the air around him—faint, ancient chains that responded to his will.
"Let him grow," he said. "Let him believe he's free. The strongest chains are forged from hope."