Word reached us that the Crownless leader—Raegor the Forsaken—had finally stepped into the mortal realm.
His first act was to tear the moon in half.
We saw it from the Academy’s roof. Half a moon. Half a sky. A jagged scar where order used to live.
Valmira nearly collapsed. "The moon controls the ley tides. That much disruption—"
"It’ll throw all realmbound magic into chaos," Seraphina finished, pale.
Yuria just growled. "Good. Let’s fight dirty."
We knew where he’d go: the Obsidian Graveyard, where the first failed Architect was buried. Where the last seal of order still pulsed, weak and flickering.
We gathered our forces. Fewer now.
Lilith gave her final orders.
Zephira offered her blade.
And I made a promise: "We end it there. Or we don’t come back."