It began with a sound.
A deep, warping hum that shook the air like a distant drum.
Naofumi was halfway through a meal at a roadside inn with Raphtalia and Kaley when the mark on his shield pulsed—bright, hot, and unmistakable.
Kaley froze.
"They're forcing a dimensional rupture," she said quietly, already standing. Her eyes narrowed, scanning the horizon as if she could see the rift forming.
Raphtalia clutched her stomach, wincing as the air grew thick with pressure.
Then the bells began to toll.
From every tower. Every outpost.
The Wave had arrived.
They made their way quickly to the capital.
The Dragon Hourglass loomed inside the Church—its sands falling faster than any natural force should allow. Beneath it, a glowing interface shimmered for each Hero's weapon.
Naofumi approached last.
When his shield made contact, a pulse of energy surged through the floor. A timer appeared above the hourglass.
Less than an hour.
The other Heroes arrived one by one.
Ren, calm and cold. Itsuki, confident. Motoyasu, all bravado and glances at Kaley that lasted too long.
None of them spoke to Naofumi.
Only Kaley stood at his side.
"They're not ready," she muttered.
"They never are," Naofumi said.
She gave the faintest smile, her hand brushing the edge of her Warframe's grip.
They prepared in silence. Erhard delivered last-minute gear. Raphtalia adjusted her sword grip with steady, practiced hands. Kaley stood near the wall, tuning the Void matrix along her armor's spine, light pulsing in brief flickers.
Naofumi glanced at her. "You're bringing Excalibur?"
Kaley nodded. "If it gets bad, I need the range and sweep."
"It's going to get bad."
She didn't deny it. But her eyes softened—just a little—as she glanced toward Raphtalia.
When the time came, light gathered beneath the Hourglass. One by one, the Heroes vanished.
Naofumi turned to Kaley and Raphtalia. "Same plan. Protect the people first."
Kaley's golden-brown eyes narrowed. "Always."
Raphtalia nodded. "Together."
They landed in a field just outside a small village. The sky had torn open—black and violet, churning with unnatural energy. Screams echoed across the valley, and the scent of burning wood carried on the wind.
Naofumi's shield vibrated violently.
Raphtalia gripped her sword.
Kaley looked up.
"They're punching through more cleanly this time. The barrier between worlds is thinner. I can feel the Void screaming."
Then came the monsters.
Skeletal knights in rusted armor. Shades wrapped in chains. Insectoid horrors that flickered between dimensions.
Naofumi raised his shield.
"Form a perimeter! Get the civilians behind the carts!"
Kaley activated her Warframe.
Excalibur shimmered into place, energy pulsing with restrained fury. Her golden eyes glowed brighter, twin flares in the twilight.
She didn't hold back.
Slash Dash—blades of light cutting through ranks in a silver blur.
Radial Blind—a burst of brilliance halting a dozen enemies mid-charge, buying precious seconds.
Radial Javelin—spears of energy erupting like lightning, pinning beasts to the ground in sizzling arcs.
Raphtalia held formation beside Naofumi, her breathing steady, stance sure. The training was holding. She could feel Kaley's presence at her back—steady, immovable.
But Kaley was something else.
A force.
The villagers stared.
Some whispered prayers.
Others dropped to their knees.
She didn't hear them.
She heard only the clash of blade and bone, the screech of corrupted magic, and the thin, constant thrum of something darker pulling at the edges.
She moved to cover Raphtalia without thinking.
When a creature leapt from the treeline, Naofumi raised his shield—and Kaley threw herself over both of them, her armor catching the brunt of the impact with a grunt.
Raphtalia's voice cracked. "Are you—"
"Still standing," Kaley said, rolling to her feet.
Naofumi offered her his hand. She took it.
Their fingers touched just a moment longer than they needed to.
Just enough to ground her again.
The fight dragged into the final phase.
Creatures came in heavier waves. More twisted. Less coordinated. Driven by something other than hunger.
Then Kaley felt it.
A presence.
Not monstrous. Not chaotic.
Watching.
She turned.
There, at the edge of the shattered treeline, stood a figure.
Slender. Pale. Warped.
His face was almost hers.
Not exact.
Twisted.
Wrong.
The Man in the Wall.
He didn't move.
Didn't speak.
Just smiled.
Kaley's fingers tightened on her blade.
Void energy flickered along her arms.
She stepped forward—but the sky cracked before she reached him.
The Wave ended.
And the Man was gone.
Later, outside the scorched village, Naofumi and Kaley stood beside the fire.
Raphtalia slept nearby, exhausted but unharmed.
Kaley was quiet. Too quiet.
"You saw him again," Naofumi said.
Kaley nodded.
"He's not interested in the Wave. Just in me."
Naofumi hesitated. "Why?"
She looked toward the horizon, where the rift had been.
"Because I remember what I am. And he wants to see if I'll forget."
Naofumi didn't say anything for a while.
Then, quietly:
"You're not alone."
Kaley blinked slowly.
Then smiled—faint. Honest.
"I know. That's why I'm still here."
Across the fire, Raphtalia stirred.
She murmured Kaley's name in her sleep.
And somewhere deep inside Kaley's war-forged heart, something warm pushed back against the dark.
A tether.
A family.
Not just another battlefield.
A reason.
And the shadow behind the mirror felt it too.