Lyra Vale couldn't sleep, but she was used to that.
What she wasn't used to was sitting across from a man who could summon fire from stone and speak in riddles about stars and fate like they were weather forecasts.
Kaelen, if that was even his real name, hadn't said much since they arrived at the abandoned comms tower. He sat in the shadows, cross-legged, fingers resting on his knees like a monk or soldier—or both. The only light came from the crystal shard he'd used earlier to reveal her sigil. It pulsed between them like a heartbeat.
"You're not the first," he said at last.
Lyra frowned "First what?"
"Starborn."
He stood, walking toward a shattered console. Dust and rust coated everything, yet the walls hummed with faint residual energy—old tech, long abandoned.
"There were others," he continued, voice calm. "Seven are chosen each cycle. Not always at the same time. Not always on the same world. But always—always—when the Realms begin to fracture."
Lyra crossed her arms. "And what? You're some ancient babysitter sent to round us up?"
Kaelen offered a faint smile "Something like that, I failed the last ones, I don't intend to fail you."
She paused "What happened to them?"
He didn't answer.
Instead, he lifted his hand—and the crystal glowed brighter. Images swirled in the air, projected like a memory turned hologram.
A field of fire. Seven figures standing in a circle, each with a different sigil burning on their bodies. A woman screamed. A sky cracked. A black sword pierced the sun.
And then—nothing.
Static.
Lyra blinked as the vision ended.
"What was that?"
"The fall of the last Seven," Kaelen said. "They died to delay the Void-King's rise. But delay is not victory. His power returns. The Realms shatter again."
She shook her head. "This isn't real. This is some simulation. This has to be."
Kaelen stepped closer. "You felt the awakening. You saw the sigil. You heard the Song."
"I don't want this."
"I know," he said quietly. "Neither did I."
Suddenly, Lyra's ears rang.
A low-frequency pulse trembled through the air, just like the signal that haunted her dreams—but this time, she wasn't the only one hearing it.
Kaelen froze.
"They've found us."
She reached for her disruptor baton.
"No," Kaelen said, tossing her a small triangular device. "Use this instead. It will hide your signal signature."
"What about you?"
"I'm not hiding."
The wall behind them exploded before she could argue.
A creature stepped through the smoke.
It wasn't like the others from before. This one radiated heat and cold simultaneously. Humanoid, but stretched and shifting, its skin patterned like a galaxy in collapse.
Kaelen stepped between them.
"A Phase Hunter," he muttered. "They've accelerated their hunt."
Lyra flanked left, fingers on the edge of the device. "Can you kill it?"
"Maybe. But not without it marking you."
"That's not comforting."
The Phase Hunter's voice was like glass being dragged across bone. "Starborn. Designation: Vale. Threat Level: Ascending."
It moved, Fast.
Kaelen met it mid-charge, flames erupting from his fists. Their clash lit the ruins like a sunrise. Sparks flew. Metal screamed.
Lyra dove behind cover, hands shaking, forcing herself to breathe. Focus. She powered the device. A low hum vibrated through her nerves as it cloaked her presence.
But something was wrong.
Her mind… shifted.
Suddenly, she stood in a different place.
A battlefield. Stone and sky. Blades and blood. A woman stood in the center, her face a mirror of Lyra's, but older—scarred and fierce. She held a staff of pure light, her armor bearing the same sigil now glowing on Lyra's chest.
The woman looked at her. Saw her.
"You're not ready," the voice echoed.
"But you will be."
Then she snapped back.
The device in her hand sparked. The Phase Hunter had noticed.
Kaelen yelled something—but Lyra didn't hear it.
Her body moved before her mind could catch up. Her arm lifted. Her palm glowed. And the sigil ignited—blinding white.
A pulse of energy erupted from her chest.
The Phase Hunter reeled, shrieking in a dozen languages. Kaelen twisted mid-air, grabbing a chunk of shattered steel—and plunged it through the creature's chest as it staggered.
It convulsed—and vanished in a pop of dark matter.
Silence.
Lyra collapsed.
Kaelen caught her.
"I didn't… I didn't mean to…"
"You awakened again," he said. "It's natural. And dangerous. Your power is bleeding through time now."
She looked at him, fear and awe warring in her eyes. "That woman… she was me, wasn't she?"
"Yes. Or… a version of you. A fragment."
"Then this has all happened before."
Kaelen nodded. "And it will again. Unless we end the cycle."
Back at the hidden observatory above Earth, a screen glitched into static.
The man in the suit cursed. "She's ahead of schedule. The fragments are converging too fast."
Another agent asked, "Should we intervene?"
"No," he muttered. "We observe. For now. But ready the clone protocols. If Lyra Vale survives this phase… she becomes a problem."
Far across the stars, in a temple orbiting a dying sun, an old monk stirred from meditation.
He opened a scroll. On it, seven names pulsed with flame. The second name flickered.
"Another flame has been lit, The wheel turns."
He bowed "May the Realms survive their rise."