The moment Jain stepped through the archway, the world shifted.
The stone chamber vanished, replaced by stillness so complete it pressed against his ears. A soft mist curled around his boots, silver and silent, and above, moonlight streamed down through a canopy that hadn't been there before. It bathed everything in an eerie, dreamlike glow.
Lyra stood beside him, her breath caught in her throat. "This isn't just a place."
"No," Jain said quietly, eyes scanning the clearing. "It's something else."
Around them, the Mirror Grove opened like a sacred wound— tall, ancient trees forming a perfect circle, their bark etched with the same shifting glyphs from the stone archway. At the center lay a still, obsidan pool, sso perfectly smooth it looked like a polished mirror. But no stars reflected in it. No moon. Only black.
Drawn forward, Jain approached the pool.
The mark on his neckburned hot. He reached towards the water.
And the world fell away.
He stood in a city of ruins, backened and broken beneath a bleeding sky. Flames licked the shattered edges of crumbling towers. The ground trembled beneath his feet.
Jain turned—shadows surged through the streets, formless and writhing. In the distance, Lyra screamed his name. He tried to run to her, but his limbs refused to move.
Then he saw it.
A throne f stone and bone stood at the city's heart. Upon it ssat a figure cloaked in fire and shadow, half-man, half-something else. Jain's face stared back at him—but wrong. Hollowed eyes glowing red with hunger. The mark on hi neck had spread across his body like a parasite, veins of darkness pu;sing ith sickly light.
"Who are you?" Jain demanded.
The figure smiled.
"I am what becomes of you," it said in his voice, distorted and ancient. "I am valac'turr. You carry the vessel. you carry me."
"No—"
"Oh, but yes," the creature hissed, rising from the throne. "The Gifted failed. They left the seal unbroken, the vessel unuarded. you are the key nw. And when you fall... I rise."
The maek on Jain's neck seared like molten iron. He dropped to his kees, gasping.
Behind valac'turr, the world crumbled. Forest burned. Oceans boiled. And from the shadows, Jain saw others—the remaining Gifted—chained, broken, or consumed by the same darkness. Lyra lay still in the ash, eyes wide, empty.
"No," Jain whispered. "That's not who i m."
"But it is," Valac'turr whispered. "if you fail."
The mirror shattered.
Jain gasped as he returned to the grove, on his hnds and kneew, cold sweat soaking his clothes. The obsidian pool shimmered, then stilled. Beside him, Lyra looked pale and shaken.
"I saw something, she murmured, her voice fragile. "Everything was ash. you were—" She stopped. "you weren't you."
Jain didn't look at her.
"I saw him too," he said. "Or what i'll become if I fail. If valac'turr... takes me."
The name lingered in the air, foul and heavy, like rot. Lyra knelt down beside him. "That wasn't just a vision. It was a warning."
"No," Jain said softly, clenching his fist. "it was a promise." Suddely, the grove stirred. Mist swirled ad coalesced into the form of a woman—elegant, faded, glowing faintly with silver light. Her presence was ancient, sorrowful.
"you've seen the truth," she said. "what waits if the vessel is corrupted. What awaits the word if valac'turr returns."
"You are one of the Gifted," Lyra said.
The woman nodded. "I am what remains. Bound to this place. I was a seer."
"Why me?" Jain asked. "Why mark me as the vessel?"
"You were born at the last thinning of the veil," she said. "When the final seal cracked. You are not chosen by destiny. You are chosen by circumstance. And that is why your choices matter more than any Gifted before you."
Jain looked down at his hands, the mark still smoldering against his skin."He's inside me."
"He will be, if you falter," she said. "But you are not yet lost."
she reached out, placing a smooth stone into his palms. Runes danced across its surface. "This will guide you to those who remain. But time is short. The eclipse comes in ten days. If they are not gathered, if the vessel is not strengthened—"
"He'll take me," Jain finshed grimly. "And the world dies."
The seer faded with a final whisper: "Beware the ones who have already fallen."
The grove was silent again.
Jain stood, shaking, and looked at Lyra. Her eyes were determined, despite the tremble in her jaw.
"We're not letting him win," she said.
Jain tightened his grop on the stone. "No. But we're not jsut fighting darkness now."
Lyra looked at him. "we're fighting what's inside you," jain nodded once. "And i'm not losing."
Together, they stepped out of the mirror Grove, the path before them clear—and the clock ticking.