Fourth Stratum — Thunder Faction:
Bzt!
Lightning cracked, tearing through tree after tree as Zeo flashed into existence in front of Will.
"Too slow." His voice cut sharp.
Before Will could even register, an electrified punch slammed into his gut.
"Rmph?!"
Thump!
Blood burst from his mouth as his body was hurled backward, skipping over the forest hill like a flat stone over water.
"Gah!"
He spat another mouthful of blood and saliva, chest heaving as he stared up at the artificial night sky.
"Tch." Zeo clicked his tongue, brushing his hair back with one hand as he stepped closer.
"Serfort, you're slackin' worse than usual! What's the matter with you?!"
"Haa… s-sorry, Great Mage Zeo!" Will rasped, wiping his mouth as he forced himself upright.
These one-on-one sessions are killing me. Two weeks now and I still can't land a hit on him.
It felt like sparring with Asta all over again.
Will gripped his sword's guard tighter, bones screaming in protest.
He's too fast… too strong!
He shook his head violently.
No, that's just an excuse! My mind's scattered, I'm barely keeping focus!
But he couldn't help it.
The pressure with Julius. His worry for Elfaria. The shadow of factions infiltrated too deeply.
The cursed puppets fooling his ki, leaving him on edge, suspicious of everyone—because anyone could be the traitor.
It all pressed down on him.
He met Zeo's eyes and found nothing but irritation.
I don't feel as many eyes on me in the faction quarters. Is it because the traitors fear Zeo… or because they don't need to? Because he's the…
Sweat slid down his jaw.
Damnit! Was it right to exclude Zeo, Guilford, and Anna from the investigation? Ms. Creirwy's words are clawing at me—what if she's also…
Will froze, paralyzed by the storm in his head. Every effort to clear it failed.
He couldn't read Zeo or Anna, and Guilford—always so simple, so earnest—was impossible to judge.
How am I supposed to focus—
Bzzt!
Another surge of lightning, and Zeo was in his face again, seizing him by the jaw with a painful grip.
"Whatever's spinning in that head of yours that isn't about me and this fight—get rid of it now!!"
"I'm your enemy!" Will's eyes widened. "You're fighting me!"
Zeo spat and hurled him back like dead weight.
"Ngh…" Will groaned, clutching his chin as Zeo adjusted the chain at his neck.
"You've got a nasty habit of overthinking, Serfort. Stop acting like you're some superior intellectual."
Not to brag, but I'm actually pretty smart, Will sulked inwardly but bit his tongue.
"You know what you really are?" Zeo's tone dropped dark. "You're me. A Taker."
"?!" Will stiffened, but Zeo pressed on.
"You're a thief. You take from allies, from friends, from enemies. You take whatever catches your eye and make it yours."
He jabbed a finger at him. "You take. And when you're done, you take again. Like master, like weapon. Even that sword of yours knows only how to steal."
His laugh cut jagged through the air, freezing Will in place.
"You take until nothing's left to take, then move on to the next beast, bleed it dry, and destroy it too. That's your path!"
Lightning crawled across his frame as Zeo spread his arms, smiling like a lunatic.
"So keep taking. Take from me. And when it's over… once you've taken everything… I'll take you."
Will blanked as he slowly stood again.
Zeo's enjoying this. He lives for combat. He admires strength with everything he is.
He isn't my enemy. He can't be. He exists on a level apart.
Even if he didn't care for Regarden or Paradise, he'd fight for them anyway—because battling the Heavenly Invaders would bring him far more joy than standing beside them.
Will knew his type. He'd met savages like him before.
Nothing turns off a battle junkie more than an opponent who doesn't stand a chance. They'd rather be outmatched than waste time with the weak.
And for that reason alone… there's no way he'd conspire with Gohtia.
"Phew." Will exhaled deeply, locking eyes with Zeo. "Um, Great Mage… I have something to tell you!"
Zeo raised a brow.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
A few moments later:
Sitting cross-legged on a boulder, Zeo twirled the Thunder Emperor staff between his hands like a baton, spinning it with casual ease.
"So those Gohtia bastards are using puppets now, huh…?"
He leaned back, boots kicking idly. "Can't say I've heard about that. Old Whitebeard didn't clue me in."
Will stiffened.
The Vander are out of the loop too…
Then he sweatdropped.
Or is it just Zeo?
A man this blunt wasn't the kind you'd trust with espionage.
Will worried he had just botched the mission by telling him. And worse—Arbiter Creirwy said this assignment came from the top. So is Lord Aaron suspicious of the Vander as well, or is something else at play?
Zeo rose, leaning on his staff.
"To be honest, I don't care about all this spying you and your pals are doing."
Will's chest sank in disappointment.
Then Zeo's eyes sharpened. "But if it's distracting you, then it's wasting my time. That pisses me off. So if you wanna know what those scumbags are after… maybe I can help."
Will's ears perked.
"Really? Please, tell me—!"
"No." Zeo smirked, cocking his head with a taunt. "If you want it, then come and take it."
Will froze as Zeo approached, staff spinning in one hand.
"Just one hit. Land it, and I'll give you your answer." His presence swelled with every step, legs trembling under the weight.
"Throw away every useless thought and fight me! Show me how strong you are! Show me we're kin—admirers of might, one and the same! Come, Will!!"
Will blinked.
Then, instead of frowning, he smiled.
It's been a while. But this isn't the first time.
Shishō. That she-beast. Edward-sensei.
Monsters he'd sparred against.
Elfie. Mr. Yuno.
Monsters he'd witnessed unleashing everything.
And now—one who fits both.
Zeo.
But this wasn't just training.
This wasn't watching from the stands.
This time, a fraction of Zeo's true power was aimed at him.
An immovable pillar of strength.
And Will's grin widened.
Because now—even if just a glimpse—I can see what lies beyond this pillar.
He fixed his goggles, drawing his sword.
Past this wall was the strength he craved. The power to climb the tower, trek the dungeon, and bulldoze anything else in his way.
And he would make it his.
Bzt.
His blade lit, crackling with thunder like Zeo's own.
Prime Pathos: Dzalgia Wis — Reloaded!
Zeo licked his lips. "That's the spirit… but you should know a cheap copy won't beat me! Let's go!!!"
Vroom.
Both erupted forward as bolts of lightning, sword swinging, staff sweeping, colliding dead center.
BOOM!
The forest shook, a pillar of smoke ripping into the night sky, drawing every eye in the Thunder Faction. None dared approach.
Will gritted his teeth. Zeo grinned wide.
Far from the field, by the gates, a lone figure sat unnoticed atop a roof. Finn scratched his chin, gaze fixed on the smoke.
"Every condition's fallen into place. Ceridwen, Zeo, the rest—they've spoonfed him enough. The question is, will he finally notice… and heed its call?"
He tilted his head with a faint smile.
"To expand the power of the Prime Pathos."
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Bzzt!
Will and Zeo pushed against each other, lightning bursting in every direction like burning ash.
The magic swordsman clenched his jaw. Zeo's esoteric magic is dulling his own wrathbolt… I can work with this—!
His eyes widened as Zeo crouched low, angling his staff to lift Will's blade and expose his side.
Vwm.
A perfect sphere of lightning bloomed at Zeo's fingertip before firing point-blank.
Fwoom.
Will leapt upward, dodging by a hair's breadth.
Suspended midair, he stiffened as Zeo zipped behind him. Will glanced over his shoulder, only mildly surprised.
I've already seen that—wait!
His head snapped forward. Zeo was back in place, leaving a crackling afterimage in his wake.
Then bolts rained down like a personal thundercloud.
Dsh!
Dhs!
Dsh!
Each strike cut off his escape, forcing him to slash and deflect.
Twack. Twack. Twack.
Some strikes he absorbed, feeding his blade. Others he could only meet head-on.
His arms numbed, heavy with strain. Zeo doesn't fight with a pattern… because there isn't one!
The boy yelped as Zeo reappeared behind him, staff thrusting upward like a spear.
He darts like lightning—unpredictable—etching a new path with every move.
Will twisted, swinging downward.
He never attacks the same way twice.
Zeo's limbs bent unnaturally, twisting mid-strike. He backflipped over Will, his staff whirling free, moving as if alive.
Once again his palm extended, lightning gathering bright.
He's a beast… a real beast! I can't figure him out—not what he's doing now, let alone next!
"Dazalgia Saga!" Zeo roared.
"Gwah!"
Will barely raised his sword in time, catching the brunt of the blast before being hurled through the forest.
Crash. Snap. Crack.
Trees shattered as his body slammed through them like a launched projectile.
Fresh blood sprayed with each impact, bruises blooming across his skin.
His eyes blurred with pain and fury. I suspected it… but now I'm sure.
Not just Ms. Hivernelle. But Ms. Theralde. Even Mr. Yuno, of course Great Mage Zeo—and probably countless others in this tower—they all use ki. And they all use it better than me!
His so-called secret weapon, the edge that carried him through the academy, wasn't secret at all.
He used to predict moves before they landed. But here, Zeo predicted his prediction—and punished him for it.
His other talent, dissecting any foe's attack pattern, was just as useless. These fighters changed their rhythm in an instant.
And the puppets… the ones that might not even know they were puppets… his skill meant nothing against them. How do you catch a liar who doesn't even know they're lying?
Will clenched his fist, another tree snapping under his weight as he crashed to the ground. Blood dripped down his forehead.
The world tilted, going dizzy, delirious. His eyes slid half-shut.
If I'm up against a Magia Vander, I need a better weapon.
There's only one way I can best someone so unimaginably powerful…
Only one way…
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Will Serfort:
I found myself sinking, deeper and deeper into that pitch-black water beneath the Lady in Black's throne.
Cold. Heavy. Yet it cleared my head, stripped me bare until only thought remained.
Courage? How do I trigger that power?
The training with Julius wasn't useless—I knew it wasn't. It was something more, beyond the headmistress's gift. Not just opening the gate, not just tapping into Wis at will.
That silvery light… Argent release. We'd managed to scratch at it once, just a fraction, and even that hurt like hell. But now—how do I reawaken the full thing?
"You can't."
The whisper slipped through the void. My eyes twitched, almost opening.
Mr. Finn?
At this moment, you've yet to fulfill the conditions required to access the Fifth Source.
My jaw tightened. Then what is the Fifth Source? No book mentioned it, no teacher ever dared. Can't someone just tell me?!
No answer. Just silence pressing on my chest until I sighed, forcing myself calm.
Then what about the magic I used against Shade? If that's it, then maybe—
"You will not. Not before you have traced your origins."
Her voice this time. That Lady's. Final, absolute.
Resignation sat heavy in my gut. So they're different. Both locked away, both beyond me. And I don't have the slightest clue where to start. Great.
I sank faster. If before I hovered near the surface, now the dark sea dragged me under like a stone.
Bwish.
Down I went, wrapped in despair. So… what now?
I have power, but I can't touch it. I can't reach it. I'm not allowed.
What's left for me? …Just give up?
The weight drowned me, even the will to open my eyes slipping away—until I felt it.
An embrace. From behind.
My eyes snapped open. "...?"
I didn't need to turn. The scent, the warmth, the way her touch refused to let me fall.
"Elfie…"
My throat tightened. Words clawed up but she beat me to it, resting her chin on my shoulder, voice trembling yet steady.
"Will… I know what it took for you to get here. This isn't your end—it's your beginning. You're capable of so much more."
"But—"
"No." She shook her head, her hair brushing my cheek. "Just as I believe in you, you need to believe in me. Right here, right now, worry only about yourself. About this battle. Clear your mind. Return Zeo the respect he shows you, to face his opponent with full attention—whether stronger or weaker, no enemy should be underestimated."
And then… she was gone. Vanished like mist.
"Elfie!" I twisted in the void, searching, grasping, but found nothing but rising bubbles—silver, fluid, like mercury.
Bwip!
A flash. A book appeared before me, pages glowing faintly.
I froze.
On it… a picture. A memory. Elfie handing me her goggles. Fighting her tears just as I fought mine before leaving for the tower.
Bwip!
Another book. Then another. All around me, shelves were forming in the black. My breath caught as I turned.
Pages unfurling my story. My life.
The sword in a world of wands—my wistoria.
Times I cried, more than I could count.
Times I smiled—few, but bright enough to light the dark.
Times I shattered, alone, no one to pick me up.
Times I broke, desperate for someone—anyone—to stand beside me.
Times someone did. Time someone didn't.
Times I was the one who picked others up.
The struggles, the victories, the simple days where life felt almost normal.
The good. The bad. The ugly.
I clutched my chest as realization dawned. I felt so stupid.
What have I been doing?
A new weapon? Some secret power? No matter how great or enticing, I will not let myself be led astray!
I released my grip.
I must stand and face my opponent with what I already have! Who am I to doubt others while doubting myself, making excuses like some coward? If I can't win with what I've been given, then I don't deserve to be here!
I clenched my jaw and swam forward, hand reaching.
I've always given everything, not to protect the people I care for—they don't need that—but so I can follow them, fight beside them, be someone they can count on as I count on them, and chase my dream!
I'm not a Giver. I'm a Taker! I'm as selfish as anyone else, and that's okay! Because someone who doesn't hesitate—who acts—can and will do more than someone who hides behind worry and never moves!
Zeo is different. He's not an enemy I can face without courage. Without risking it all. There's no perfect answer, no perfect move—only the will to make one and see it through.
As I swam, two more picture books blocked my way.
The me bathed in silver and white from the Terminalia.
The me cloaked in black from the battle against Shade.
So powerful. So grand. So desirable.
I slapped them aside.
Awakening be damned!
Think back to the story you've woven with your friends! With everyone who helped you get here!
How you turned knowledge into wisdom. Theory into practice. Emotion into strength. Real strength!
I've already done that. And just like Elfie said, this is only the beginning!
My head burst through the surface—and she was there.
Elfie. Not today's Elfie, but the one from ten years ago, clutching a picture book.
She grinned and ran at me, leaping into my arms.
I smiled and caught her. Upon contact, her essence seeped into me like ink, solidifying into a book. Strength coursed through me.
Ice filled my veins—then heat burned it away.
"Sion," I whispered.
The redhead glared back.
"Hmph!" He scoffed and held out his hand. "Stop wasting time, Laggard!"
I chuckled, shaking it. He turned into a book, and from its pages I drew the flaming sword that slew the Grand Duke.
I pressed on, marking every moment. Every Wis.
Elfie again—the one who lent me power in the Terminalia, as Albis Vina. I didn't hesitate, taking her essence into my story as well.
Read your memories. Bring them together!!
"Julius…"
"Hmph." Just like Sion. His hand was steady. I clasped it tight.
I must reach deep, retrieve every magical memory I've forged!
As I swam, I looked up.
Three figures waited.
"Colette. Lihanna. Wignall."
Unlike Julius, Elfie, and Sion, they were silhouettes—stone, lightning, wind.
I softened. "One day I'll come back, when I've grasped the real you."
They smiled as I passed.
Zeo's silhouette came next. Sharper, more detailed than theirs, yet still only a shadow.
This time, no power was offered. No hand reached out. Instead, he grinned and turned his back.
I chuckled. I understood. Shade was a one-off. With Zeo, even memory wouldn't hand me anything. If I wanted his power, I couldn't beg. I'd have to take it.
That time would come.
I swam harder, chasing the light above—then froze.
"Shishō…"
Asta.
He wasn't a silhouette. He was real. As real as Sion, Julius, Elfie. I'd sparred with him, spent days and weeks beside him. I thought I knew him.
But his form blurred, breaking into a silhouette. Vague. Indistinct. A streak of black, wrong and alien.
It felt dangerous. Lethal. Like it didn't belong. Like an enemy.
Yet this was Asta—the one I trusted most.
My instincts screamed to flee. Wis itself recoiled. But like a moth to fire, I swam closer—until his silhouette raised a hand, freezing me.
It shook its head. Slowly. And turned away.
Just like Zeo.
My chest tightened. Did that mean this was a power I couldn't touch? Shouldn't touch? Or just not now?
The truth was simple: I knew nothing of my master. Not really.
I sighed, shaking my head. It wasn't time. He would tell me when I was ready.
For now, I had an appointment.
My hand broke through the surface. Fwsshh!
Light blinded me as I hauled myself free of the dark sea. My body surged with every book I'd gathered, every memory embraced. Not as a weapon to hide behind, not as a shortcut, but as me.
Will Serfort.
I dragged in a breath, sharp and burning, my heart pounding like a war drum. The doubts, the hesitation, the despair—they sank beneath me, left to rot at the bottom.
I was done drowning.
It was time to fight.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Zeo bolted over the forest, streaking down like thunder.
"That's it? How lame?! Welp—another day, another victory!"
As the smoke thinned, his eyes widened. Will was still standing, crouched low in a sword stance, blade drawn back as if charging.
Prime Pathos: Revived!
Behind him stood two figures—or perhaps constructs—Elfaria Serfort and Julius Reinburg, wand and staff raised high.
"Glace Wis: Tactical Reload!"
Zeo slowed without meaning to, a chill sliding through him.
Did he just change the affinity of his blade from my thunder to sloth and brat's ice?!
But how?! There's no way—
His thought broke as Will stabbed the sword into the ground instead of swinging.
"Eisplosion!"
A jagged iceberg erupted, surging skyward to impale him.
Crack!
The Wand of Thunder grinned with ecstasy as Zeo zipped backward.
"Hah! The kid's got some tricks up his sleeve!"
From afar, Finn's smile widened.
"The sheer speed of Zeo's wrathbolt style might have saved him, but he won't be so lucky next time."
The dwarven guide kept his commentary rolling as Will charged again, sword humming with light.
"You see, Tactical Reload isn't just a simple realignment of his blade. Oh no… it's far more than that…"
Lightning snapped around Will. Beneath the gold shimmered the faintest hue of silver, enough to make Zeo's instincts flare.
"Prime Pathos — Revived."
He chanted again, launching himself skyward, lightning trailing behind.
"Now this is fun!" Zeo beamed, twirling his staff.
But his grin cracked when the streak of lightning twisted into searing flame, Will flickering behind him.
From the distance came a whisper, clear as if spoken into his ear.
"It allows him to shuffle between multiple elements on a whim… even in the heat of battle."
"Ignis Wis! Argis!!"
Will's blade fell, wrapped in flame and threaded with sparks.
Zeo spun at the last instant, staff raised to block.
Clang!
The force ripped through him, lightning and fire crashing together.
His staff was smacked aside, leaving him no choice but to catch the edge of the blade with his bare hands.
Steel bit skin. Heat seared flesh. He gritted his teeth, digging in.
They skidded across the dirt before locking still.
Will strained, but his arms trembled. The glow faded, the blade turning dull and lifeless once more.
Zeo smiled anyway.
A proud, pleased smile.
"Well, color me shocked!"
He shoved Will back.
"Aagh?!"
The boy collapsed, breath shallow.
Priming my sword again and again drained me dry… I can't even move.
Yet Will's eyes held no disappointment, no shame.
Because I did it…
"Well played, kid!" Zeo raised his right hand. Across the palm ran a scorched gash, dripping fresh blood.
"You finally got one on me!"
"Hah!" Will exhaled, setting his sword down with trembling fingers. Despite the pain, he smiled.
After nearly two weeks… I finally landed a blow on Great Mage Zeo.
Finn rose with a sigh, emotion caught in his throat.
"Caldron, you wicked witch. It's all happening just as you planned." He couldn't deny it.
He had interfered barely at all, yet Will had achieved more than he'd ever hoped.
The dwarf chuckled. "Well, I suppose that's to be expected when you've got such an explosive mix of wand and sword."
All Swords grew under pressure, but a Wand that welcomed that crucible—encouraged it—forcing it and simulating it every time—was invaluable.
Finn turned with a spin and hopped away.
"Well, guess I better give Aaron my report… work never ends." He exhaled, vanishing into the base.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
"You finally got one on me!" Zeo grinned, blood dripping from his wound. "And I'm a man of my word! So listed up, and listed good!"
Will gulped, sweat trickling down his chin, as he nodded.
"The Gohtia goons should be after the key to the heavens… Baal!"
"Baal?" Will repeated, brow furrowed.
Zeo slid his hands into his pockets, rolling his neck lazily. "It's the key to destroying the Great Barrier," he said as if it were no big deal.
"It's sealed at the very top of the tower."
Will's eyes widened.
"Wait… does that mean—?"
Zeo nodded, reading his thoughts like a book. "Yeah. Kill the Vander and the sky might fall, but get the key and it definitely will."
Will pressed a hand to his mouth, disbelief coursing through him.
There's a key to destroying the Great Barrier?! And it's kept at the apex of the tower? That means the Vander are guarding it…
His legs shook as if he unearthed some grand conspiracy.
Does this mean the whole time we've been talking about helping hold up the sky, we weren't protecting the Vander… but helping them guard the key?!
But he pushed that aside.
Now we know what Gohtia is after. They don't want to kill the Vander—they probably can't, lacking the strength.
They lost the war ten years ago. Any casualties the tower suffered are likely nothing compared to the losses they incurred.
Slaying the Vander, unless it's the Terminalia, is probably impossible. But the Headless wasn't lying: the goal is to tear down the falling sky, and they don't need to kill the Vander to do it.
If the tower is the only thing between them and Baal, then toppling it, like Shade bragged, would be tantamount to collapsing the Great Barrier!
This is it! The pieces of the puzzle finally clicked into place.
Will slowly smiled.
As long as we can figure out their plan and foil it, everything will be fine!
The big shot Madam Creirwy mentioned might be the one to help with that.
Zeo's next words shattered Will's thoughts as well as his smile.
"Before you get any funny ideas, a reminder… we'll be taking you knuckleheads on a dungeon expedition in three days' time."
Will blinked. "I beg your pardon?"
Zeo grinned. "You landed a hit on me, and Anna's been putting your sidepiece through the wringer."
Will froze, flushing red. "M-my what?!" he repeated, horrified.
Zeo didn't care. "With the two of you, we might be able to make some real progress!" He licked his lips. "This time we're shooting for the 50th floor. I've been dying to see what fun things it has in store. We're gonna crush the Whitebeard's record, and you're gonna be the ones to help us do it."
Will shot to his feet. "G-Great Mage Zeo?! Wait a moment!"
After everything I told him, he's still taking us on an expedition?!
"You can't be serious?!" Will spread his arms. "Puppets could be lurking anywhere and everywhere in the tower! It's a ticking time bomb!"
His breath quickened.
The enemy will take advantage of our absence… I know you can see it! Please, Great Mage Zeo, think this—zoom!
Will went silent as Zeo casually blasted a tree beside him.
Crack!
The Thunder Emperor dug a finger into his ear, clicking his tongue.
"Are you done yet? You're grating my eardrums."
Will's mouth opened, then closed. He was speechless. Zeo was already turning around.
"If the tower can't handle us being gone, then we don't need it."
He started walking away, a sarcastic laugh echoing through the clearing.
"Imagine it. If all it takes is a band of scumbags who can only sneak around and work in the shadows to bring this place to its knees, then it would never stand a chance against that damn Celestial Host."
He picked up his staff.
"We need power to combat the invaders. The barrier has only ever been a delay to amass that power. It will fall one day, no matter what we do. If in the meantime we only spend it twiddling our thumbs, then we're as good as dead. We need power, and the dungeon is the fastest place to obtain it."
He spun his staff with a flourish. "It's happening, so be ready."
Will fell to his knees, fists clenched, frustration and bewilderment coursing through him as Zeo distanced himself.
And then he shot to his feet.
"W-wait, Great Mage Zeo! Please!"
The Vander stopped mid-step and looked over his shoulder, irritation clear in his voice.
"What?"
Will swallowed, desperation thick in his throat.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Fifth Stratum — Fire Faction:
"Haah… haah…" Sion panted, collapsing to one knee on the stone floor.
Smoky blood smeared across his face, clinging to the sweat and soot. He gripped the remnants of his Gloria, scorched and battered.
His jacket and robe were mostly burnt away, charred fragments hanging from his arms.
He stole a glance at Logwell and Leopold by the doorway, as indifferent as ever. Of course… they wouldn't even flinch.
Then his eyes fell on Cariott, standing near his throne, the Blackflame Lion hovering loyally at his side.
The Wand of Fire's smile was as sly as ever, before he let out a long, dramatic sigh.
"My dear Sion, what to do with you?" He toyed with the edges of his gloves, gaze sharp. "The day's almost over, yet you've made little to no progress whatsoever."
His smile darkened slightly, shadows flickering across his face.
"Let me remind you: there are only two manners in which you'll leave this room. With your head held high after completing my trial… or in a bodybag due to your inability to do so."
He paused, frowning pensively, and a cruel smirk crept back.
"I suppose a jar would be more accurate, as you'll probably be reduced to ashes. But no matter—I'll tell your family I cremated you. An esteemed honor, really, for any House to have a Vander do so for their son."
His grin widened as he spread his arms theatrically.
"So, my dear Sion, what will it be?"
Squeeze.
Sion Ulster exhaled slowly, muscles aching, lungs burning. He forced himself upright, every movement heavy but deliberate.
I'm not done yet…
He rose, one hand still clutching what remained of his Gloria, the other pressed lightly against his chest as if grounding himself.
Smoke curled around him, the faint scent of ash filling his nostrils. His vision blurred, but he blinked it away.
This trial isn't over… and neither am I.
Each step toward Cariott felt like wading through fire, but Sion kept moving, unyielding, determined to face whatever came next.