Chapter Two: The Arc Within
The plaza buzzed with whispers long after the light had faded. Aeris stood motionless, the Golden Stone pulsing faintly in his palm like a second heartbeat. He could feel it—something ancient, something watching.
Professor Martha Jane descended from the stage, her expression unreadable. Her voice, however, was steady.
"You'll be briefed later," she said. "For now, know this—your Stone has chosen you. That means your Arc will follow."
Aeris frowned. "Arc?"
Kael leaned in, whispering quickly. "They're ships. But not just ships. They're alive. They respond to you, like extensions of your soul."
Professor Jane nodded. "Each Arc is unique. Some are built for speed—Scouts. Others for transport, defense, or war. Fortress Arcs can shield entire cities. Warships can tear through them. The type of Arc you receive depends on your Stone's resonance and your spirit's alignment."
Aeris looked down at the Stone in his hand. It glowed faintly, golden and calm.
"And I get one?"
"Eventually," Kael said. "But first comes the Soul Sync. The Arc chooses you back."
Professor Jane continued, "Once the bond is complete, you'll receive an Armor. A spiritual extension of your Arc. It's worn in battle, forged from the same resonance. If your Arc is a Scout, your Armor will enhance speed and perception. If it's a Fortress, it'll shield you like a wall."
Aeris swallowed. "And the Golden Stone?"
She paused. "No one knows what kind of Arc it commands. The last Golden Commander vanished before his Arc ever revealed itself."
Her eyes narrowed. "Tomorrow, you enter the Chamber of Echoes. If your soul is strong enough, your Arc will awaken."
The ceremony continued, but Aeris stood still, the Stone pulsing in his hand, whispering secrets only he could hear.
—
The Chamber of Echoes was carved into the mountain behind the Academy, a place older than the Academy itself. Its walls shimmered with embedded crystals, each one humming with dormant energy. Aeris stood at the threshold, alone. No instructors. No guides. Only the Stone in his hand and the silence around him.
He stepped inside.
The chamber responded instantly. Light flared from the walls, and a low hum filled the air. The Stone in his palm grew hot, then cold, then vanished—absorbed into his chest like a breath taken too deep.
Then the visions began.
He saw war—Arcs clashing in the skies, cities burning, Armors glowing like stars in the dust. He saw himself, standing at the center of it all, not commanding, but becoming. His body wrapped in golden light, his mind fused with something vast and ancient.
A voice echoed through the chamber, not spoken but felt.
"You are the vessel. You are the flame. You are the Arc."
Suddenly, the chamber shook. A golden silhouette emerged from the far wall—a ship unlike any Aeris had ever seen. Sleek, massive, yet somehow alive. Its surface rippled like liquid metal, its core pulsed with the same rhythm as his heart.
The Arc had awakened.
Aeris dropped to his knees, overwhelmed. The ship hovered before him, silent and waiting.
Then, from the chamber floor, golden threads rose and wrapped around his body. His clothes dissolved into light. In their place, the Armor formed—elegant, radiant, and unlike any other. It wasn't heavy. It was him.
The Arc pulsed once, and Aeris understood.
He wasn't just chosen.
He was bound.