Location: Solace Tower – War Room Level
The storm outside mirrored the one within.
Grim stood at the head of the map table—hands pressed against its stone surface, his eyes casting a faint glow: stormblue and embergold. His siblings surrounded him, still catching their breath after everything revealed in the Spire.
No jokes. No bickering.
Only purpose.
"We've been playing defense," Grim said, his voice low. "Reacting to what the Court does. That ends now."
Hadi leaned forward. "What do you mean?"
"I mean we don't just wait for them to make the next move. We prepare. No distractions. No holding back. If the Court succeeds in creating a bridge between worlds…" He exhaled. "We all die. And not just us—everything."
Max's shadow twitched like a living thing behind him. "So we hit them?"
Grim shook his head. "We outgrow them. Permanently."
Tristan's eyes narrowed. "You're thinking about the dream realm, aren't you?"
"We'll enter our Guardian's domain again," Grim confirmed. "Time there is different. One hundred days inside. Only one hundred minutes out here. No aging. No rest. Only growth."
Ayesha's lips parted slightly. "You think we can reach Flare Tier in just that time?"
"Low Flare," Grim corrected. "That's the minimum. Anything less, and we're corpses when the Court moves."
Silence. Even Hadi, normally loud and unfiltered, said nothing.
Zariya's Arrival
The door opened behind them.
Zariya strode in—cloak trailing motes of fire and frost.
"That won't be enough."
All eyes turned to her. Grim tensed slightly but didn't move.
Zariya's expression was unreadable as she crossed the room.
"The Court is ready. Their assassins failed. Their ritual cracked. But their numbers grow. There are already whispers of rogue heirs gathering. You think Low Flare Tier will protect you?"
Tristan scoffed. "You saying we should quit?"
Zariya's lips curled faintly. "No. I'm saying—catch up."
She extended a hand, palm open—and her aura flared.
Wind. Fire. Ice. Earth. Lightning. Magic. All swirling around her.
Mid Inferna Tier.
The siblings stiffened. Sparks let out a sharp static gasp.
"Oh damn. She's terrifying. Grim. I don't like her. But I respect her."
Zariya turned to Grim. "The only reason I'm alive is because I surpassed expectations. The same will be true for you. All of you."
Grim stepped forward slowly.
"Then we'll see you when we come out."
"Assuming you survive," she replied, unfazed. "The dream realm trials now… won't hold back."
The siblings stood in the ritual chamber beneath the tower—each Guardian projection towering behind them. Their weapons hummed with anticipation. Sparks drifted around Grim, quiet for once, the glow of her red hair reflecting on the marble floor.
Zevrin's voice echoed behind them.
"You will have one hundred days. You will not age. But you can die. And if you die in the realm—your essence will shatter."
"No pressure," Hadi muttered.
They joined hands.
Grim spoke one final time before the plunge.
"We're not the heirs they wanted. But we're the ones they have. We hold the line. Together."
Each sibling nodded.
Sparks whispered, "Go break reality. I'll watch your bodies."
The dreamlight flared.
And they vanished.