The courtyard lay in ruins.Enchanted stone cracked and smoldered, sigils that once reinforced the academy walls flickering weakly as if gasping for breath. The air was thick with the scent of scorched earth and the faint metallic tang of aether.
At the center stood Saphine. Her breathing was heavy, gauntlets still glowing faintly on her arms, their sharp contours shifting with each pulse of light. She could feel her heart racing in time with them — not as tools, but as an extension of herself.
Her echo's words still rang in her ears, distant and near all at once:
"I am Far Cry."
Eris stepped forward first. His expression was unreadable, though his glasses hid most of his eyes. He adjusted them with a faint tap, the movement oddly grounding amidst the shattered courtyard.
"You did well." His voice was calm, but beneath it there was a thread of finality, like he had been expecting this moment all along.
Saphine swallowed, trying to steady her breath. "That was… my echo? That was her?"
"Yes," Eris replied simply. Then his gaze flicked sideways — at Janus.
The intruder stood several paces away, his figure trembling beneath the weight of the residual pressure. His mockery had evaporated. For the first time, the arrogance had cracked; his eyes flickered not with disdain, but with calculation… and something like fear.
He exhaled a hiss between his teeth."…Far Cry. So that's what has awakened in this place."
And then, without warning, his body dissolved into smoke. Shadow poured into the cracks of the ruined stone, scattering like ash in the wind. Within moments, Janus was gone.
Silence fell.
Aerin staggered upright, his spear cracked from the battle but his spirit unbowed. His chest rose and fell with ragged breaths as he stared at Saphine's form."…That power… you fought like him." He looked at Eris, his brow furrowed. "She mirrored you perfectly."
Meline said nothing. Her blades were chipped, her arm trembling from the strain of resisting Janus's earlier pressure. Yet her gaze never left Saphine. For once, her sharp tongue was still.
Eris gave no answer. He only stepped closer to Saphine, his hand brushing briefly against the gauntlets now covering her arms. They shimmered faintly at his touch, almost like they recognized him.
Saphine felt her face heat despite the exhaustion. "W-What was that? Why did they respond to you too?"
For the first time that night, Eris let out a low chuckle. It wasn't mocking — it was tired, quiet, like a secret slipping loose."Because I've been waiting for them longer than you have."
Before Saphine could ask what he meant, a deep rumble shivered through the courtyard. Not from battle — but from the wards around the academy reasserting themselves. Across the grounds, bells began to toll. Not alarm bells, but the heavy, resonant chimes of summoning.
The headmistress was calling them.
Aerin wiped blood from his mouth, his usual confidence shaken. "We'll have to answer for this…"
Meline sheathed her broken blades with sharp finality. "No. We'll have to explain what happened here — and what she awakened." Her tone was clipped, but there was something else in it too. Not disdain. Not fear. Something closer to… unease.
Eris finally removed his glasses, folding them and slipping them into his pocket. His eyes, bare for the first time that night, shone with the depth of starlight — distant, unblinking, unfathomable. His Grand Gaze glimmered faintly, like a sea no one could cross.
"Get ready," he said quietly, but not just to Saphine — to all three of them. "This isn't the end. Her awakening has already been felt beyond these walls. Powerful figures will come to see who bears Far Cry. And not all of them will arrive as allies."
The words settled over them like a shadow.
Saphine lowered her gaze to the gauntlets still pulsing on her hands. A warmth spread in her chest, strange and frightening, but no longer unbearable. She clenched her fists — not in fear this time, but in resolve.
The silence stretched, broken only by the distant bells.
And in that silence, far beyond the academy walls, across kingdoms and hidden domains, echoes stirred. Figures cloaked in mystery felt the wave that had swept from the academy, their eyes turning toward its heart. Some curious. Some wary. Some hungry.
The name of her echo — Far Cry — was already spreading like wildfire across unseen tongues.
And with it, the first ripples of war.