The dawn crept into Solaris shrouded in smoke. The raid upon Lady Calia's villa had ended with the High Inquisitor's fall, yet the city did not awaken to truth. It awoke to lies, whispered on every street, painted on walls, carried in the mouths of zealots who spread like fire through dry grass. The sun tried to break the gray canopy, but ash swallowed it whole, leaving only a light that looked weary, as if Solaris itself had grown tired of fighting.
Inside the ruined villa, nobles lingered, their silken robes dirtied by soot, their voices hushed but trembling with urgency. Some sat with their heads in their hands, muttering prayers. Others bickered, their fear sharpening their tongues. The air was thick with unease, thicker than the smoke drifting from the broken beams above.
Lady Calia stood firm, her back straight despite the exhaustion etched into her features. She looked nothing like the fragile noblewoman most imagined her to be; ash streaked her hair, her eyes burned with resolve. "Word will spread before the embers fade," she declared, her voice steady. "Ashen's priests will call us traitors. The people will not know truth from lies. If we remain here, we will be slaughtered."
Her words silenced the murmurs. All eyes turned to Andy and Nia. Andy, standing amidst the wreckage with both blades still resting at his back, felt the weight of their stares. He wanted to shout that they should stand and fight, that they could not keep running—but he saw their fear, the tremble in their hands, and knew resistance required survival first.
"Then we move," Andy said, his voice like stone. "Hide if we must, strike when we can. But we don't stop."
Nia stood beside him, her staff planted in the cracked tiles, silver light faintly pulsing at its tip. Her voice was softer but no less fierce. "We don't only hide. We gather. If Ashen's hold spreads, we will need more than whispers in the dark. We need the people. Without them, we fight only to delay the inevitable."
A noble to the left scoffed. "The people? They already worship him!"
Nia's silver gaze cut through him, unwavering. "Then we show them truth. No matter the cost."
The System stirred in their sight, lines of light etching across their vision.
*Main Quest Updated: Relocate Solaris Resistance.*
*Sub-Objective: Secure Safehouse before dusk.*
*Side Objective: Spread counter-narrative to resist clergy propaganda.*
The weight of the update settled in their bones. Andy's grip on his sword tightened. The Resistance had survived the night—but the war for Solaris had only begun.
They slipped from the villa under cover of smoke, cloaks drawn tight, moving with the nobles through alleys where the ash hung thicker than fog. Solaris had changed overnight. Walls bore fresh sigils of phoenix wings scrawled in soot, feathers tied to doorframes fluttered like banners of faith. Everywhere they passed, voices chanted Ashen's name.
Andy's jaw tightened as he overheard a crier in the square, his voice booming: "The Savior struck down Everhart's spies last night! He purges the liars even now!" The crowd roared, faces lit with fervor, not fear. Children raised forged feathers high, their eyes shining with belief.
Andy's fists clenched. He wanted to rip the false relics from their hands, to shout the truth until their faith cracked. But Nia's hand slipped into his, grounding him. Her silver eyes flicked up to his, steady. "Not yet," she whispered. "If we break now, we lose everything."
Her words cooled the storm inside him. Barely.
Hours later, they reached a warehouse at the city's edge. The Resistance gathered in secret again, their numbers thinner, their resolve tighter. Calia spread a map across a crate, her hands marked with soot. She circled districts with trembling charcoal. "Here—the Altar Quarter is lost. The Market, half devoured. But the river docks remain uncertain. If we can hold them, we can breathe."
Andy leaned in, tapping another mark. "And here—too close to the villa. The clergy will search this quarter first."
Calia nodded grimly. "Then it is abandoned. We move tonight. Before dusk, or we will be hunted."
The System flickered:
*Quest Path Unlocked: The Hidden Safehouse.*
*Requirement: Protect Resistance during relocation.*
Plans were laid quickly, desperation stripping away formality. Nobles argued about provisions, guards plotted escape routes, and every voice carried fear beneath its steel. Andy said little. He watched Nia instead. Her face was pale with strain, but her eyes burned with light no false fire could imitate.
He reached beneath the table, fingers brushing hers. She looked up, startled, then softened as she intertwined her hand with his. "We're carrying too much," he murmured, low enough that only she could hear.
Her grip tightened, her silver light flickering across their rings. "Then we carry it together."
Their rings pulsed, ember and silver entwined, and warmth spread through them both.
*Bond Progression: Star 3 — 54% → 56%.*
*Passive Skill Strengthened: Soul Harmony II — Amplification increased to 35%.*
The resonance hummed in their chests, a reminder that neither bore this burden alone.
But the city outside shifted further. In the market, a preacher stood atop a crate, his voice sharp. "The Savior has triumphed! Everhart's dogs were burned, their lies turned to ash!" He raised a forged feather, glowing faint, and the crowd roared their devotion.
Andy's blood boiled, golden veins itching beneath his skin. He could feel the Dragon clawing to break free, to tear the lies apart. His hands trembled. Only Nia's hand on his arm anchored him. "Not yet," she whispered again. "When the time comes, they'll see."
Dusk draped Solaris in red-gray as the Resistance moved. Nobles disguised in simple robes, guards leading them in staggered groups. Andy walked at the front, every sense sharp, blades within reach. Nia followed close, staff glowing faint to shield against watching eyes.
At the river docks, they reached their goal: an abandoned grain warehouse, its roof sagging, walls scarred by fire. It smelled of mold and ash, but its thick walls and hidden tunnels promised safety. Calia stepped inside first, her voice firm. "It will serve."
Andy scanned the shadows, every instinct on edge. He felt the faint tremor in the air, the echo of false fire pressing ever closer. He turned to Nia, their rings glowing faint in the dim.
"They'll come," he said quietly.
Her silver eyes met his, unwavering. "Then we'll be ready."
The System pulsed, sealing the trial complete:
*Safehouse Secured: Resistance Relocation Successful.*
*Bond Progression: Star 3 — 56% → 57%.*
*Main Quest Updated: Prepare the Resistance to strike at the Phoenix Core.*
The nobles exhaled in relief, guards lowering their weapons at last. But Andy and Nia did not relax. They stood together in the shadows of the warehouse, watching the city smolder outside. Solaris belonged to Ashen's lies now, but within their Bond, there was still truth—and they would burn brighter than false fire.
Far from the smoke of Solaris, Everhart still gleamed with marble and banners of gold, but beneath the polished stone, whispers ran sharper than blades. Merchants arriving from the east brought news of shrines, of false feathers, of a Savior rising. The council chambers stirred with unease, nobles debating in tight circles while glancing at doors as though Ashen's fire might creep through the cracks.
Lord Everhart sat in silence, fingers curled tight around his staff. His gaze lingered on maps of Solaris, on the reports of raids, on the silence of two names absent from the city—Andy and Nia. His presence kept the council from splintering, but even steel could feel the strain of fire.
In the academy towers, apprentices whispered of Nia: the prodigy whose light had once filled their halls. Some prayed for her safe return, others feared she now stood against them. In the training yards, soldiers spoke of Andy—the Flameward swordsman risen from nothing. Was he Everhart's loyal blade, or had the Savior already claimed him?
The capital did not burn, not yet, but its heart beat faster. The sky over the eastern horizon glowed faint red when the wind was clear, smoke from Solaris smudging the dawn. Everhart watched, and waited. The storm gathering in Solaris would not stay there for long.