There was silence in the safehouse Kaelen led them to — a derelict station buried deep beneath Sector 3, humming with old power and memory. The air was thick with ozone and dust, like the place remembered war.
Lyra paced, Riven stood still.
Kaelen watched both like a man waiting for a bomb to tick down.
"How long have you been following me?" Lyra asked, arms crossed, sweat still drying on her skin.
"Since your first Flame burst," Riven said, leaning on the steel table. "You didn't shield it. Thought someone would've taught you that by now."
"She's learning," Kaelen interjected.
Riven ignored him. "Not fast enough. The Void-King's already tracking her resonance. Every time she uses her power unguarded, we lose time."
"I didn't ask for any of this," Lyra snapped.
"No one ever does," Riven replied. "But we burn anyway."
The silence after that stretched like a blade.
Kaelen finally moved. He activated a holoscreen embedded in the table.
Seven sigils hovered in the air. Only three were lit.
"Three of the Starborn have awakened," he said. "You two. And one more—her signature flared on the frost-moon of Virell."
Riven's eyes darkened. "Virell is cursed."
"Everything is cursed now," Kaelen replied.
Lyra stared at the glowing symbols. "What happens when we're all lit up? When all seven are found?"
Kaelen hesitated. Then:
"Then the Realms remember."
"What does that mean?"
"It means we remember who we were before the Realms were shattered. What we were meant to be."
"And if we don't?"
Riven spoke this time "Then the cycle begins again. Flame, War, Fall, Oblivion."
Kaelen tapped the sigil over Virell. "I've already called in an old contact to find her. Her name is Sera. She's different. Strong, but… unstable. We'll need her."
Lyra frowned "How unstable?"
Riven cracked a dry smile "More than me."
Hours passed. Lyra sat alone in a corner of the safehouse, the flame sigil flickering faintly on her hand. Sleep didn't come. It hadn't in days. Not since the visions began.
But tonight was different.
When she closed her eyes, the air around her shimmered—and her consciousness slipped sideways.
She stood on a battlefield.
But not like the visions before. This was clearer. Realer.
The sky was dark with ash. The ground was scorched glass. And above her—six figures stood, glowing with power. The original Seven.
Kaelen was among them.
So was Riven.
But the others were strangers… and gods.
Each bore a different form of the Flame. One wept light. One bent shadows. One had wings made of solar fire. And at the center stood a woman—herself, again,Older, Wiser, Radiating the raw force of the stars.
The past Lyra raised her hand—and the Realms bled around her.
The vision shattered.
She woke with a scream, drenched in sweat, Kaelen at her side.
"It's happening faster now," he said, not surprised. "You're remembering more."
"Why?" she gasped. "Why am I seeing her?"
"Because you were her. And she failed."
Meanwhile, in the skies above Virell, a transport ship broke through the frozen clouds.
Inside sat a girl with glowing veins and frost-colored hair. She stared out the window, the mark on her wrist flaring with sudden pain.
Her name was Sera Veil.
And something ancient had begun to whisper her name again.
In the Eclipsed Core, the Void-King smiled as the third sigil flared.
"The stars gather," he said to the shadows.
"Let them. I will be waiting."