The days after the Purifiers' defeat rippled through Duskfall like shockwaves.
To the nobles of the Inner Province, it was a minor incident—a "failed operation," quickly buried beneath politics and propaganda.
But in the slums, it was legend.
A dozen slaves whispered of the boy who turned fire into a blade, who melted holy armor with mere words. Some said he was a god reborn. Others feared he was something worse.
Altharion welcomed both reactions.
Fear was loyalty unspoken.
Worship was submission in progress.
He stood at the center of the forgehouse, now reinforced with stolen metals and enchanted runes. A circle of followers knelt before him. The youngest, barely twelve. The eldest, a blind cripple who had once been a scholar before the Dome burned his books.
They were his first disciples.
And tonight, they would be tested.
Training Grounds - Beneath the Cathedral Ruins
"You will fail," Altharion told them. "And that failure will teach you more than ten years under their systems."
He carved a glyph into the air. A field shimmered open—a trial chamber built from overlapping illusions, each laced with minimal pain curses and emotional feedback sigils.
"You will see your fears. You will feel your regrets. You will relive your worst nights."
One boy trembled.
Altharion touched his shoulder. "You either learn to shape magic... or be shaped by it."
He stepped back.
The chamber sealed.
And their screams began.
Meanwhile - Celestial Dome, Chamber of Records
Helios stood before a vast tome, its pages made from the skin of a starborn beast. The records glowed with anti-entropy runes, preserving history uncorrupted.
He turned to a page sealed by five divine locks.
"Project Oblivion."
With a motion, he broke the seals.
Schematics, soul-chains, sigil-architecture from 13,000 years ago. Designed to imprison one being:
Altharion Veil.
"You were not supposed to return," Helios whispered. "Not in this cycle. Not ever."
He turned to a silent attendant. "Send word to the Trinity Vault. Begin reawakening Protocol Leviathan."
"But sir, that weapon nearly destroyed—"
"Do it. We cannot fight a god with prayers and pride."
Duskfall - Forgehouse, Later That Night
One by one, the disciples emerged. Bloodied. Pale. Changed.
Some wept.
Others smiled for the first time.
All of them knelt.
Altharion raised his hands.
"Tonight, you were born again. Not as slaves. Not as fodder. But as embers."
He looked toward the city skyline.
"And soon, the fire will spread."
Final Scene - Far North, Temple of the Hollow Star
A figure wrapped in silver wrappings stirred as an ancient bell rang. One that had not tolled in eons.
"He breathes again," the figure rasped. "The First Fire... rekindled."
Dozens of hooded acolytes turned.
"Shall we move, Lady Lysaria?"
She removed her blindfold. Her empty sockets glowed with violet flame.
"Yes," she whispered. "The balance must not break."