They didn't speak on the way back.
The forest felt different now—thinner somehow, like the barrier Kael had relied on for years had finally cracked. Every snapped twig sounded deliberate. Every gust of wind felt like a whisper that stopped just short of forming words.
Ari kept glancing behind them.
"You're doing it again," Mika said quietly.
"I know," he muttered. "Tell the part of my brain screaming we're being tracked to chill."
Kael walked ahead of them, unhurried, hands in his coat pockets.
"They were tracking us," he said. "Past tense."
Ari frowned. "You sure?"
Kael didn't look back. "Yes."
That didn't make Ari feel better.
Back home, Kael activated the ward network.
The apartment changed subtly—walls humming at a frequency Ari could feel in his teeth, windows darkening as thin sigils stitched themselves into the glass. The space felt… sealed. Safe, but only barely.
"This place won't hide us anymore," Kael said. "But it will slow them down."
Mika leaned against the counter. "Tell us about the symbol."
Kael paused.
The silence stretched.
Finally, he said, "They call themselves The Sevenfold Eye."
Ari's stomach dropped. "That sounds bad."
"They don't hunt monsters," Kael continued. "They hunt outcomes. They believe the world must be guided toward a specific future—no matter the cost."
Mika's eyes narrowed. "And you didn't agree."
"I interfered," Kael corrected. "Repeatedly."
Ari crossed his arms. "Let me guess. You ruined their perfect apocalypse."
Kael's jaw tightened. "More than one."
That night, Ari couldn't sleep.
He lay staring at the ceiling, feeling the barrier he'd created earlier—no, felt earlier—hovering just beneath his skin, waiting.
He focused.
The air responded.
A thin layer of energy spread outward from him, brushing the walls, the door, the hallway beyond.
And then—
Something brushed back.
Ari bolted upright.
"Mika," he hissed.
Her door opened instantly. She was already awake.
"You felt it too," she said.
Before Ari could answer, Kael was there.
Fully armed.
"Stay behind me," he ordered.
The apartment lights flickered.
Then the knock came.
Soft.
Polite.
Three taps.
Kael's voice was cold. "You have ten seconds to leave."
A woman's voice answered from the other side—calm, amused.
"Still dramatic, Kael Ryven. Some habits never die."
The door didn't open.
It simply… ceased to be locked.
She stepped inside like she belonged there.
Tall. Pale. Dressed in layered black and silver, her eyes marked with faint geometric scars that glowed when she smiled.
"The Seer," Kael said.
She inclined her head. "You remember."
"How could I forget?" Kael replied. "You're the one who said I'd die surrounded by family."
Her gaze shifted—to Ari, then Mika.
Her smile widened.
"Oh," she said softly. "I see what I missed."
Ari felt pressure slam into his chest—an invisible weight trying to pin him down.
Before it could settle, his barrier flared instinctively, pushing back.
The Seer's eyebrows rose. "Interesting."
Mika stepped forward, eyes glowing faintly silver. The pressure vanished—as if Mika had redirected it elsewhere.
Now the Seer looked genuinely pleased.
"Two anomalies," she murmured. "No wonder you broke your silence."
Kael moved.
In less than a blink, he was between them and her, killing intent sharp enough to make the air scream.
"Speak your purpose," he said, "or leave in pieces."
The Seer raised her hands slowly. "Peace. For now."
She glanced around the apartment. "The Eye knows you're active again. The convergence point is waking. And your children—"
"Stepchildren," Kael snapped.
She laughed lightly. "—will become catalysts. Whether you train them or not."
Ari clenched his fists. "We're not tools."
Her gaze softened—almost pitying. "Everyone is, eventually."
Kael took a step forward.
The Seer sighed. "So be it."
She stepped back—and dissolved into shadow, her voice lingering like an echo.
"Seven days, Kael Ryven. Prepare them… or bury them."
The apartment went still.
Mika broke the silence. "She was lying about one thing."
Kael looked at her. "Which?"
"She's not sure how this ends," Mika said. "I felt it."
Ari swallowed. "That makes it worse."
Kael turned to them, expression grim but resolute.
"Seven days," he said. "That's more time than I ever got."
He placed a hand on each of their shoulders.
"And we're going to use every second."
Outside, unseen by human eyes, the Sevenfold Eye adjusted its focus.
The hunt had officially begun.