From that day, the years began to turn.
Slowly, imperceptibly at first, Earth itself changed.
The Academy, once focused only on training soldiers, began to weave new threads into its lessons. No one spoke of empires, demons, or the vast war beyond their skies, those truths remained sealed in the highest towers, but subtle changes appeared.
Cadets were told that "one day humanity may face enemies greater than the monsters." Combat drills became harsher, formations refined for adaptability.
"Form up! Your enemy won't wait for perfect positioning!" Commander Hayes barked at a squad of trembling first-years. "Adapt or die!"
No one spoke openly of stars, but the seeds were planted. Preparing the young for challenges no one named aloud.
Kael and the other leaders quietly adjusted the entire Defender structure to be leaner, faster, capable of coordination on a scale Earth had never known. The word galaxy never passed their lips, yet every defender could feel it, they were being prepared for something greater.
"We need rapid deployment protocols," Kael explained to the assembled commanders. "Threats may emerge faster than we anticipate."
And then there were the S-ranks.
Where once humanity had only three, suddenly there were more. Thomas, Elara, Ironwood. Even Selena, who ascended two years later.
The presence of these powers changed everything. Outposts that once fell to despair when A-ranks failed now found salvation in the arrival of an S-rank commander.
"S-rank incoming!" The cry echoed across Outpost Meridian as Thomas descended like a meteor. The tide of monsters that had breached the walls suddenly seemed manageable.
Their names spread as living bulwarks, rallying defenders with their very existence.
And Adrian's ink and runes...
His scrolls reshaped the battlefield in ways no commander could deny. The mortality rate of Defenders dropped to record lows.
Healing scrolls pulled broken bodies back from the brink. Blink runes saved entire squads from ambushes. Barriers held waves that should have annihilated outposts.
"Another miracle scroll," whispered a C-rank defender, watching his severed arm regrow in golden light. "How many lives has Blackwood saved?"
Every month, fewer names were carved into the stones of remembrance.
Then came the strengthening tattoos.
At first, many feared them. The process was agony, the body pushed to adapt against the void itself.
"It feels like drowning in ice," gasped Lieutenant Morris as the golden lines burned into his chest. "But I can breathe without breathing."
But when the first volunteers grew stronger, faster, harder, more enduring, others lined up.
Soon, entire divisions bore the markings. Even Thomas, Elara, and Ironwood received them, their foundations laid for the day they would step into the void.
To most, they were merely strengthening runes. Few understood that these tattoos were the first stepping stones toward survival among the stars.
Three years after the Abyss mission, Earth looked unrecognizable.
The monster waves were still relentless, but humanity no longer buckled. Death rates had plummeted. Rune experts rose one by one, filling every gap.
The whole planet moved as if guided by a shared rhythm, preparing, unknowingly, for the day the stars would open.
...
Adrian spent much of those years within the Grand Rune Hall. Its top floor became his home, his workshop, his sanctuary.
Month after month, he stood before thousands of inscribers, teaching, guiding, showing them the strokes and patterns that had once seemed impossible. From those halls, countless new scrolls flowed into the world.
On one such day, Adrian stood on the top floor of the Grand Rune Hall. The afternoon sun streamed through the massive windows, casting long shadows across the polished stone floor.
He looked out the high windows at the bustling Rune District below. Defenders moved between buildings like ants, carrying bundles of scrolls to transport hubs. He had not joined any outpost battle since the Abyss. There was no need.
His power was too absolute. If he went, he could erase the monsters with a single command. But that would only cripple the growth of others.
And so he remained here, teaching, building, ensuring humanity would not collapse in his absence. The thought of departure hung over him, never far from his mind.
The door opened behind him. Heavy footsteps crossed the marble threshold.
Selena entered, her presence steady, more mature. The golden tattoos on her face had multiplied over the years, forming intricate patterns that pulsed with contained power. Two years ago, she had reached S-rank herself.
The strengthening runes had slowly sculpted her body until her mana liquefied naturally without even needing pressure from outside. She was proof of the tattoo's hidden depths.
She crossed the chamber, her expression troubled. A frown tugged at her lips as she approached his desk. "Adrian. We have a problem."
He turned from the window. The sunlight caught the faint white-grey mist that always seemed to hover around his eyes now. "What kind of problem?"
"The stock of Blackwood Ink is running low," she said. Her voice carried an edge of urgency he rarely heard from her. "Faster than we ever projected."
She set a tablet on the desk before him. The holographic display flickered to life, numbers scrolling across the screen in harsh blue light. "At first, we thought what you converted would last a decade. But the past three years… humanity consumed it like air."
Adrian picked up the tablet, his fingers tracing the data streams. Production rates, consumption metrics, distribution networks, all spiraling upward at impossible speeds.
The numbers glowed harsh against his retinas. Demand for scrolls, skyrocketing. Ink consumption, far beyond projections.
Training programs distributed Ink freely to cadets and inscribers. Every outpost demanded more healing runes, more barriers, more spatial blinks. The training alone consumed thousands of gallons monthly.
Adrian stared at the figures, silent. He had known the consumption was high, but not this high. The scale dwarfed even his most optimistic projections.
Selena's voice softened. "It's good, of course. The world is safer than it's ever been." She gestured toward the window where Defenders moved without fear. "But at this pace, the supply will run dry. And you know as well as I, only you can infuse the ink."
He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled. It was true. Every drop of Blackwood Ink carried his Source.
Without him, it was nothing more than ordinary mana ink. Useless for the universal runes that had transformed humanity's fate.
It was fine now. He was here, available to convert new batches whenever needed. But the moment he left Earth…
The thought twisted in his chest. He had no idea how long he would be gone when Aurelia returned. A year? A decade? Longer?
If humanity lost its ink while he was away, everything would collapse. The wounded would stay wounded. The weak would remain weak.
Adrian folded his hands slowly, staring at the runes etched into the desk's surface. Each symbol represented years of study, refinement, perfection. "We need a solution. Something permanent."
Selena nodded grimly. "Agreed. If Earth is to stand without you, we need Blackwood Ink that can be made… without Blackwood."
Neither of them knew how such a thing was possible. But both understood the truth hanging between them.
Without an answer, everything they had built would one day collapse into dust.