The Academy bells tolled at dusk, their iron chime echoing across the training grounds. Students gathered uneasily in the courtyard, their eyes drawn upward to the sky where a pale moon had begun to redden.
"The Blood Moon," whispered Elara, her silver hair gleaming faintly under its light. "It wasn't supposed to come for another decade…"
Even the instructors looked uneasy. The last time a Blood Moon rose, entire provinces were said to have drowned in shadow.
Clem tightened her grip on her dagger and leaned toward Alaric. "Something's wrong. The timing feels… deliberate."
Alaric said nothing. The amber stone in his palm was burning hot, as though the moon's crimson glow was feeding it directly. His veins pulsed with alternating waves of light and shadow until he could no longer tell where one ended and the other began.
"Vessel… surrender."
The whisper coiled in his head again. Louder now. Hungrier.
The Arch Duke ordered the students inside the wards of the Academy, but the walls groaned as if resisting. Shadows spread unnaturally across the marble, creeping upward like veins of ink. The protective runes flickered.
Then came the first scream.
A Hollow One slipped through the ward as if it were nothing, its faceless form unraveling into multiple figures. They swarmed the courtyard, pulling students into the dark. Where they touched, skin paled and eyes glazed — leaving hollow shells behind.
Panic erupted.
"Stay together!" shouted Master Kael, his shadow-forged blade igniting. He cut through one Hollow with a single strike, but the pieces slithered back together, reforming.
Alaric staggered, clutching his chest. The whispers had become a chorus now. The Hollow Ones were not attacking him — they were circling, bowing almost, as if recognizing him.
Clem grabbed his arm. "Alaric—fight it!"
He met her gaze, but his eyes were no longer soft blue. One glowed golden, blazing with light. The other was a void of shifting shadow.
The power inside him burst free.
The courtyard was swallowed by a dome of eclipse energy — half searing light, half suffocating darkness. Screams turned into echoes. The ground warped, tilting between brilliance and black.
Students cowered. Even the instructors faltered. Only the Hollow Ones stood tall, their whispers rising like a hymn.
"The Dual Vessel awakens."
Alaric's body levitated, threads of light and shadow wrapping around him like chains. He fought to stay conscious, but the Blood Moon fed both sides of his power, ripping at his core. He felt himself fracturing — one moment the savior, the next the monster.
Inside his mind, two voices warred.
"Burn them all — purge the darkness."
"Consume them all — drown the light."
If he chose wrong, he knew he would be lost.
Then Clem's voice pierced through the chaos, raw and desperate: "Alaric! You're not them. You're not their vessel — you're ours. Choose us!"
For an instant, the chains of light and shadow loosened. His body shuddered, balance wavering. The Hollow Ones shrieked in unison, their faceless heads turning toward Clem as though her words had struck them.
Alaric's heart pounded. He had only moments. One choice, one action, would decide if he remained human — or if the Hollow Ones claimed him under the Blood Moon.
The ground cracked. The dome trembled. And then—