The battlefield was alive.
Not with celebration, but with rage—magic seared across the air like torn lightning, shaking the earth with every strike. The sky looked cracked, bleeding crimson threads over the clash of ancient spellcasters. And right in the center of it, surrounded by flaming rubble and chanting warriors, he stood.
The soul Leo carried. The one from his dreams.
Cloaked in worn battle-armor etched with glowing inscriptions, the warrior unleashed ancient magic with devastating precision. Glyphs spun midair as his spells shattered enemy lines. His movements weren't graceful—they were brutal, primal, like a man forged through war.
And then—a blur.
A dark figure appeared. Cloaked. Fast. Powerful.
The two clashed with a fury that made the dream shake. Leo, watching from the edges of this vision, gasped. That figure—it didn't just fight with magic. It devoured it.
The enemy raised a spell that twisted reality like a cracked mirror. Leo's soul-carrier—his predecessor—deflected it, but not in time. A searing light hit his side, sending him crashing behind a stone ridge, bleeding from his shoulder.
Leo instinctively ran toward him.
---
Moments later, hidden behind a warped boulder,
The warrior sat against the rock, panting, holding his side. His sword was cracked. His face was tired… but familiar. When he looked up and saw Leo, he didn't react with surprise. Just a long, hollow stare.
"I was wondering when you'd show up," he said.
Leo kneeled beside him. "You knew?"
"You carry my soul. Of course I knew. I just didn't think you'd be foolish enough to come back here alone."
Leo ignored the jab. "Who was that? That dark figure. He used spells I've never seen."
The warrior didn't answer right away. "He was once our greatest defender. Now he's a living curse. I thought he'd vanished after the war. Looks like I was wrong."
Leo's throat went dry. "He's the one attacking the Guild."
"Yes. And he's only just begun."
Leo clenched his fists. "Why now? After all this time, why return? Why destroy everything?"
The warrior looked up at the flickering sky. "Because he's searching for something. Or… someone."
"You think it's me."
The warrior gave him a sidelong glance. "You carry a soul that should've died with me. That much power… doesn't go unnoticed."
---
Leo sat in silence for a moment. Then, the questions poured out.
"What is this soul we share, really? Why is it cursed? Why can I barely control it while you—while you could bend the battlefield?"
The warrior closed his eyes, breathing deep.
"There are two souls in you," he said. "The one that makes you you. And the one that gives you power. My soul is the second one. Passed on through the Dream. I didn't ask to be reborn. Neither did you."
"But I need to master it," Leo said. "If I'm going to stop him… I need to fight like you did. Stronger."
A dry chuckle. "You don't need to fight like me. You need to fight smarter. Because he's not just powerful—he's unpredictable. The more you draw from ancient magic, the more he'll notice you. And when he does…"
"He'll come for me," Leo finished.
The warrior finally opened his eyes. "Not just for you. For everything you care about."
---
Before Leo could respond, the dream began to fracture.
The ground quaked. The air shimmered with distortion. The battlefield blurred, turning to ash.
The warrior looked straight at Leo. "When the time comes, you'll have to make a choice."
Leo blinked. "What choice?"
But the dream was already crumbling.
---
He woke up gasping in the real world, drenched in sweat.
Vellum, kneeling beside him, looked pale. "You okay? You were seizing for a second—"
Leo nodded weakly. "I found him… and I found *who