The fire had finally gone out.
Not just in the sky, but in the earth, the air, the people. The burning that had gripped Odessyus for weeks had surrendered at last to a quiet hush. The Blood Moon had faded. The ash had settled. Kazakare was gone.
But the silence he left behind… felt wrong.
Tom sat near the northern wall, where a new memorial had been built in the plaza. A ring of standing stones etched with glyphs — one for each soul lost in the war. The stones shimmered in the morning sun, carved by Susan's hand, sealed with Kitty's wind, guarded by Jack's shadow.
But Tom wasn't looking at the stones.
He was staring at the cracked spot in the plaza where Kazakare had fallen. No grass grew there. No light touched it. Just a blackened scar across the stone.
He thought he'd feel proud. Or relieved. Or something more than this cold emptiness inside his chest. But he didn't. He just felt… small. Like the war had taken something from him that he didn't even know how to name.
Behind him, Frank approached quietly. He looked different now — not just stronger, but heavier. Like the weight of being the one to land the final blow hadn't lifted with the victory. It had stayed.
"They're saying we saved the world," Tom muttered without turning.
Frank stopped beside him. "Then why doesn't it feel like it?"
Tom stood slowly. "Because it's not over."
Frank blinked. "What do you mean?"
Tom pointed to the dark scar in the ground. "That spot… it doesn't cool. I've watched it every day since. The glyphs around it twitch, even when no one's near. And the birds won't fly over it."
Frank glanced at it. "Residual corruption, maybe."
"Or something else."
Frank didn't reply. He didn't have to. They both felt it — a whisper at the edge of their senses, like someone was still watching.
---
Elsewhere in the ruins of Caldris, Lucy stood before the fractured glyph mirror Neolin had recovered from the vault. The shard reflected not her face, but a ripple — as if it couldn't decide what image to show. She touched the surface lightly, and the ripple stilled.
She stared into it.
Not to see herself… but to make sure she was still there.
A soft knock came behind her.
Kitty stepped in. "We're leaving in an hour. Neolin says we need rest."
Lucy nodded, not taking her eyes off the mirror.
Kitty hesitated. "You… feeling better?"
"I don't know what I'm feeling."
Kitty approached her, wings folded. "You fought with us. That means something."
Lucy finally turned. "What if it means something worse? What if Alexa wanted to help — to hide inside the victory?"
Kitty didn't flinch. "Then we'll find her before she does. Because we're not losing you."
Lucy didn't reply. But her eyes softened — just a little.
---
In the eastern chamber of Odessyus, Neolin stood before a large scroll laid flat across a glowing table. It was older than anything he'd shown the Seven before. Its ink had faded into the parchment like scars into skin.
Susan joined him, arms crossed. "You called me?"
He nodded. "We found something during the post-war glyph readings. Deep tremors. Not seismic… not magical. But something was moving. From beneath."
"From beneath what?"
Neolin turned the scroll to her. At the center, beneath the glyph for "void," was a small mark — three curved claws, etched in red ink.
"It's ancient. The mark of a trio once sealed under the continent. Sealed during the First Collapse — when glyphs first turned on their creators."
Susan narrowed her eyes. "You think they're waking up?"
"I think they already have," Neolin said. "And Kazakare's fall… might have been the key."
---
The Seven gathered that evening in the Hall of Flame, the largest chamber left undamaged by the war. Fires crackled gently in crystal basins along the walls. The old glyphs glowed dimly above them, like stars long forgotten.
Jack leaned back in his chair, his face still bandaged from the final fight. "So we're not resting, after all."
"We are," Peter said. "But we're also preparing. Because whatever's coming… we can't afford to be caught asleep again."
Frank looked around at the others. "Have any of you… felt anything weird? Since Kazakare fell?"
Kitty raised her hand slightly. "I had a dream. No — a memory. But it wasn't mine. I was in a room full of mirrors. And they all had cracks. Behind each crack… was a face. I couldn't see them clearly, but… there were three."
Lucy spoke softly. "I felt it too. Not a dream. A pull."
Tom stood. "Then it's not just a pull. It's a path."
Everyone looked at him.
"I went back to the place where Kazakare died," he continued. "I traced the glyph patterns left behind. And they point somewhere."
"Where?" Susan asked.
He opened his hand, revealing a glyph stone he'd recovered. It was covered in claw marks — three to be exact.
"There's a cavern system beneath the Glyph Wastes," Tom said. "And something's stirring there."
Neolin entered the chamber, his face serious. "Then you need to go. Not now. But soon. Rest, recover. But be ready. The Blood Moon was a storm. What's coming next… is silence."
Peter tilted his head. "Silence?"
Neolin nodded. "That's what the glyph calls it. 'The Silence of Three.'"
A chill ran through the room. The fire crackled louder for a moment, then went dim.
Frank stood. "We've fought a god. We've survived war."
"But this," Lucy said quietly, "is different. This feels personal."
And it was.
Because somewhere in the dark, three forgotten things had begun to stir.
Not gods.
Not demons.
But something between.
And they were waiting.
Watching.
Ready to rise.