The golden light of the Rift didn't just fade; it was starved out. As the obsidian teeth of the Hollow tear clamped shut, the sudden silence was louder than any scream. Leo stood paralyzed on the balcony, his lungs burning with the stench of ozone and rot. Below, the Citadel’s alarms began to wail, sounding thin and fragile against the cold weight settling in his marrow.

  Sora’s first cry finally broke the air, and the world began to tilt. The architects of the Oblivion Spire, caught in a state of shock, were forced into a desperate stand as a foreign horde surged from the portal. Both factions clashed blindly, fueled by conflicting reasons, while Leo and his brother stood amidst the ruin.

  A tall, blonde man stepped forward. “Oh, children. How sweet,” he said, his voice dripping with dark calmness. “But you wouldn’t remain this innocent even if you did grow up anyway .”

  The stranger’s hand began to glow with a beautiful, terrifying radiance. A bolt of pure energy was unleashed toward the siblings. Instinctively, Leo—already a prodigy of the craft—knew the counter to light: Density. He forced his arm to harden, the molecular structure tightening just as the blast struck. His small frame couldn't fully withstand the output; the force threw him back and left a jagged sear above his left eyebrow.

  “Interesting,” the man mused, leaning down. “A kid like you shouldn't have survived that—especially from me. What’s your name, brat?”

  “L… Leo,” he responded, his tone a fragile mixture of cold skill and childhood terror. “And who are you?”

  The man chuckled, clearly intrigued. “Leon. And w—”

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  Before he could finish, a squad of Oblivion architects closed in. “He’s got the Beacon’s child! Move, fast!”

  Leon rose from his knee as a hail of swords hissed toward him. He didn't dodge. “Pulse of Sequence: Anchor.” The blades froze mid-air, their momentum swallowed by the law of the world. He pointed an index finger at the attackers. “Pulse of Radiance: Heated Light.”

  A beam, far faster than the one shot at Leo, cut through the air. In a single flash, the attacking architects were bifurcated. Leo didn't wait to see the bodies fall. Clutching Sora, he turned and vanished into the smoke.

  His perfect life had been dismantled in a matter of hours. He was lost, but within the void of his heart, a vow took root—not one to be voiced, but one to be felt. He would end this.

  He eventually collapsed into the ruins of a shop, shielding his brother. He was exhausted and terrified, yet eerily calm. The Oblivion Spire, a monument that had stood since the dawn of time, was half-ruined. For seven-year-old Leo, the sight was surreal. The home he had lived in was gone; his favorite spots were engulfed in flame. Most importantly, his parents were gone.

  Sora began to wail. Even for Leo, the heat was becoming unbearable.

  “Leo? Come here! It’s as dangerous as the Seven Citadel War, you idiot!”

  An architect appeared, clad in the matte-black, light-absorbing mantle of their order. Kaelith’s voice was strained with worry. Leo looked at her, his expression a recognizable mask of fatigue and a cold, unreadable hollow.

  “Kaelith,” he whispered in that same quiet tone. “He’s crying. What do I do to shut him up?”

  Kaelith raised an eyebrow, reaching out. “Give him to me… Wait, is that your brother? He’s only hours old—he can’t be in this heat. We need to move.”

  As they picked their way through the debris, Kaelith glanced at the boy. “Why are you acting so… casual, Leo? I know we’re all reeling. Azrion and Elara vanishing into that rift, these unknown architects who don't belong to any citadel—maybe not even this universe… it’s natural to be numb.”

  Leo hummed, his mind drifting far from her words. They finally reached a pocket of cooler air, only to find the path blocked by a foreign architect.

  Kaelith unsheathed her sword, the steel singing a grim note of preparation.