The walk back to Havenfall's gate was a silent, tense affair. Kaelen's body thrummed with the residual adrenaline of the escape and the deep, steady hum of his E-Rank power. Every rustle of wind through the petrified trees, every distant cry of some unseen creature, made his heart stutter. The Phase Cat was gone, but the memory of its cold, yellow eyes was seared into his mind. Isolde walked beside him, her presence once again a calm, calculating force. She offered no more praise, her silence itself a form of commentary.
The massive gates groaned open just wide enough to admit them before grinding shut with a definitive, thunderous boom that felt like safety sealing around him. The air inside was still, clean, and hummed with the city's energy. The contrast with the wilds was jarring.
A young soldier from Valeria's unit stood at attention, his face a mask of professional neutrality. "Commander Valeria is awaiting your debriefing in the training chamber, Initiate," he said, his eyes carefully avoiding Isolde's presence altogether.
Isolde gave a faint, almost imperceptible smile. "Run along, little key. Do regale the Commander with your tale of survival. I have other webs to tend to." She didn't wait for a response, melting into the flow of foot traffic with the ease of a woman who owned the very streets.
Kaelen followed the soldier through the familiar corridors, his new senses taking in everything. He could feel the subtle vibrations in the floor from machinery deep below, could pick out individual conversations from the hum of the Citadel. The world was louder, brighter, more intense. The soldier's heartbeat was a quick, nervous rhythm beside him.
Valeria was waiting for him in the training chamber, exactly as promised. She stood with her arms crossed, her posture rigid. The debriefing was brisk and clinical.
"Report," she commanded, her grey eyes missing nothing.
Kaelen recounted the events, sticking to the facts. Finding the fissure, retrieving the Sunken Star, the System's notification of his ascension. Then, the Phase Cat. He described its abilities and his desperate strategy with the canyon ceiling, carefully editing Isolde's role out of the narrative, saying only that he had realized the creature' weakness during the fight.
Valeria listened without interruption, her expression unreadable. When he finished, she gave a single, sharp nod. "Adequate. Using the environment is a valid tactic. The Phase Cat is a dangerous foe for your rank. Surviving it is a mark of competence." She paused, her gaze intensifying. "The escalation of your Curse is concerning, but expected. Your power grows, and so does the threat. You must grow faster."
She turned to leave, her debriefing apparently complete. But with her hand on the door panel, she stopped. She didn't look back, her voice cool and measured. "I am aware Lady de Lys took an interest in your Trial. Her methods are… unorthodox. She deals in secrets and favors. Remember that every favor has a price, and every secret she reveals is one she now owns about you. Choose your debts wisely, Kaelen. Power gained through another's leverage is a chain, not a tool."
The door slid shut behind her, leaving him alone with her warning echoing in his ears. It mirrored Elara's, but from a different angle. Where the artisan warned of losing himself, the Commander warned of losing his autonomy.
He returned to his room, his mind a whirlwind. The physical exhaustion was gone, burned away by his ascension, but a deep mental fatigue set in. He was playing a game with rules he didn't fully understand, and the players kept offering him different rulebooks.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of strange new routines. He was summoned to the Citadel's mess hall—a vast, noisy room where soldiers and lower-ranked Awakened ate. The food was plain but plentiful. He received stares—some curious, some wary. His story, it seemed, was already making rounds. The Umbral initiate. The one with the Anchor.
He explored the Citadel's public areas with the cautiousness of a stray animal, always feeling the weight of the Sunken Star fragment in his pocket. He found a vast library filled with data-slates and crumbling physical books, a training yard where off-duty soldiers sparred, and even a small, quiet garden where a few citizens tended to glowing, Veil-resistant plants.
In the garden, he saw Elara. She was on a stone bench, sketching in a worn notebook, a small pot of glowing moss on the bench beside her. She looked up as he approached, offering a small, kind smile that didn't quite reach her sad eyes.
"You made it back," she said softly. "And you look… more."
"I passed," he said, sitting on the far end of the bench. He didn't mention the Phase Cat.
"I heard." She closed her sketchbook. "The first ascension is a gift. A taste of what could be. But the hunger it brings… that is the true test." She looked at him, her gaze knowing. "The Citadel is buzzing. You have attention. From many quarters. Be careful which whispers you listen to. Some promises are cages painted like gilded doors."
Another warning. Another perspective. He simply nodded, the weight of it all pressing down on him. He had spent his life fighting for the next meal. Now he was fighting for his future, his very soul, and he was surrounded by generals who all wanted to command him.
That night, sleep, when it finally came, was not peaceful. The +25 years of lifespan was a warmth in his core, but his dreams were cold and dark.
He was standing in a grand hall. Commander Valeria stood on his left, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword. "A weapon must be sharp," she said, her voice echoing. Isolde stood on his right, a knowing smile on her lips. "A key must be turned," she whispered, her words slithering into his ears. Elara stood before him, her hands covered in dark clay. "But what will you build?" she asked, her voice full of sorrow. The Sunken Star fragment burned in his pocket. The Phase Cat watched from the shadows with Valeria's grey eyes. He tried to speak, to answer Elara, but his voice was gone. He was just a tool. A key. A weapon. The Anchor around his neck grew heavier, pulling him down through the floor into an endless, silent sea of mist.
He woke with a start, his breath catching in his throat. The room was dark. The Citadel hummed around him, a sleeping giant full of secrets. He had gained power. He had gained time. But he felt more lost than ever, caught in the unseen currents between three powerful women, each pulling him toward a different destiny. The path to becoming Sovereign was proving to be a labyrinth, and he had no map.