The private archives beneath the Board of Dominion's stronghold were locked behind five layers of enchantments, biometric locks, and soul-encoded permissions. Few even knew it existed.
Julius Frost stood at the threshold, accompanied by Lena and two other council elites.
He stared at the final gate. A plaque glimmered with ancient writing:
"He who sought peace with power, and paid the price."
The gate opened with a heavy groan, revealing a room bathed in violet light. Inside were relics of the Calamity War—weapon fragments, charred tomes, preserved journal entries.
At the far end sat a pedestal.
On it: a shattered blade, a bloodstained glove, and a crystal memory shard labeled simply:
"Peter Ardent — Final Mission."
Lena stepped forward and carefully activated the shard.
The room filled with flickering light. A projection began.
Peter's image appeared—older, worn, but with a fire still burning in his eyes. He looked directly into the recording device.
"If you're watching this… then I'm dead."
Julius's breath hitched.
"I never wanted this power," Peter continued. "We were meant to fight for humanity. But when the artifact revealed itself to us… I saw the greed in their eyes."
The image trembled as distant explosions echoed. Peter's face darkened.
"They wanted to rule. To reshape the world under one banner. Even her—Elara. I thought I loved her once."
He glanced down.
"I couldn't let them have it. So I took it. Hid it where no one would look. With her."
He reached into his cloak and revealed a tiny necklace—the same one Max now wore.
"My son will inherit it. He'll be born powerless. That's the only way to hide it from detection. But if the bond activates… he'll become something this world hasn't seen before."
He leaned closer to the camera.
"If you're listening, Julius… I forgive you."
Then the feed cut out.
Silence hung in the air like ash after fire.
Julius stared at the shard, unmoving.
"He knew," Lena said softly. "He saw through all of us. And he chose his son."
Julius didn't reply.
His heart was split—between loyalty, and guilt.
"He could've ruled beside us," he muttered.
"But instead, he made his child the vessel."
Back at the academy, Max sat on the roof of his dorm. The wind tugged at his cloak as the stars blinked silently above.
His necklace pulsed again—warm. Comforting.
He didn't know why, but tonight… he felt someone watching over him.
Far away, a relic stirred.
And the world turned one step closer to its next war.