The fire had died down, but the heat lingered—clinging to Sam's skin like a memory that refused to fade.
Lapu-Lapu's spirit no longer burned like a sun. Instead, it hovered behind Sam like a phantom warrior, flickering in and out of sight. A lingering resonance. The connection wasn't just symbolic—it was spiritual, raw, alive.
Sam stumbled forward through the cratered path left by the Rift. His legs felt heavy, not just from exhaustion, but from the new weight inside him—power that didn't belong to this era.
As he climbed the slope out of the Rift's collapsed edge, a surge of nausea hit him. Visions—no, memories—not his own, but fragments passed through Lapu-Lapu's soul, flooded his mind.
A hundred battles. Blood in the surf. Fire in the heart.
He collapsed onto the dirt, clutching his head.
"You carry not just our strength," the warrior's voice echoed in his mind, "but our burden."
Sam gasped. "Why me? I'm no one."
"Not anymore."
A low mechanical growl pulled him out of the vision.
Vein Scanners.
From the jungle's edge, a small patrol of armored enforcers marched into view, their armor sleek with obsidian plating and glowing blue conduits running up their limbs. At the head was a woman—sharp-eyed, scarred, moving like a coiled blade.
"Contact confirmed," she said, pressing two fingers to her ear. "He's alive. The Vein Surge triggered a hero-class summon."
Sam stood instinctively, hand moving to his itak, though he barely had the strength to lift it.
"Don't move," the woman barked. "You're under sovereign custody of the New Resonance Authority."
Sam didn't answer. The threads on his arm flared again, flickering gold-red, reacting to the tension.
One of the soldiers stepped forward—too close.
Big mistake.
In a blink, the spirit of Lapu-Lapu flared into full form beside Sam, blazing heat warping the air. The soldiers raised their weapons—plasma-edge rifles humming—but they were too slow.
"Walang Takot!" Sam roared again, as if the words had a will of their own.
The ground erupted in fire. Blinding arcs of heat slashed through the air, melting the nearest soldier's armor in an instant. The others fell back, panicked.
The scarred woman didn't flinch. She raised a hand—and the flames froze midair.
Vein-locker tech. High-grade.
She walked right through the fire like it wasn't even there, stopping a few feet from Sam. "You don't know what you're holding, do you?"
Sam narrowed his eyes. "You think I want this?"
"No," she said, almost calmly. "But now the world does."
She reached into her coat, pulled out a small cube—the size of a die—and tossed it to him. It hovered midair, scanning his threads.
Sam blinked. "What's this?"
"A test," she said. "To see if you're a weapon… or a key."
The cube flared—once, twice—then released a pulse.
And for the second time that day, the world cracked open.
A glowing glyph tore into the sky above them—an ancestral seal—and a vision unfolded in the clouds: the Lost War, the fall of the Resonants, and the one bloodline hidden from history.
His.
Sam stumbled back, heart racing. "What the hell… was that?"
The scarred woman finally smiled.
"Welcome to the Lineage War, kid."