Elandor – Southern Training Grounds
The crash of essence lit the field like thunder made flesh.
Kael's clones streaked across the grounds — blurs of motion, storm, and flame. Each one bore a different essence blend. Some shimmered with raw Lightning, others pulsed with Kinetic bursts, or wielded Storm arcs that cracked the very air. One, cloaked in pure Flame, moved like a wildfire given form.
His five students stood at the center of it all.
Kael's voice cut through the chaos. "You asked to stand among the Radiant. Then learn what it means to be prey first."
Velura vanished into shadow — only to be yanked violently from her concealment by a clone wielding Kinetic pulses laced with Storm static. She hit the ground, hard, a groan slipping from her lips.
Kael's real self, watching from above, spoke calmly. "Velura, your Shadow tricks won't work if you assume your enemy can't feel movement in Essence. Stop hiding. Start weaving."
She coughed, eyes narrowing as blood shimmered briefly along her blade. "Understood."
Below, Reyne conjured a storm of Wind-blades, each glimmering with ice fractals. A Flame clone surged at her. She pivoted, slicing a path through the firestorm, but the ground cracked as a Gravity clone dropped down from above — a direct counter to her aerial tactics.
"You dodge too perfectly," Kael said, voice echoing. "But life isn't perfect. React. Don't predict."
Gorran stood unmoving at the center of the chaos, fists clenched, Earth rising around him in jagged walls. But a clone struck from behind with a Gravity-null field — Gorran's defenses collapsed instantly.
He fell to a knee.
"You rely on what holds you down," Kael warned. "But what if the enemy unroots you? Anchor your spirit, not just the soil."
Thorne, crackling with wild Lightning, barreled into a clone — only to be baited, feinted, and blasted backward with a chain of kinetic bursts. He flipped midair, landing poorly.
"Stop thinking like a hammer!" Kael roared. "You're not strong just because of brute force, you're strong because of calculated strength, brawn and brain"
Seris, meanwhile, danced.
Her Sound illusions flickered in layered waves, throwing clones off balance. One was impaled by a beam of Light. Another disoriented by a sudden frequency spike.
Kael's brow lifted slightly.
And then a Flame-Storm clone roared in, piercing through her illusions with overwhelming speed.
She barely blocked, arm trembling.
"You're improving," Kael admitted. "But your rhythm is predictable. Shift your tempo."
Hours passed. Dust choked the air. The clones faded, dismissed one by one. The five collapsed to the dirt, bruised and burnt, but alive.
Kael walked among them.
"You've all survived real war," he said. "But survival isn't the same as winning."
He looked to each in turn. "Fear. Adaptation. Pain. Judgment. Control."
He extended a hand, and each clone reformed once more — then knelt beside each student, mirroring their affinities.
"Tomorrow," Kael said, "you'll fight yourselves."
He turned away, but paused. "And I'll watch for who grows... and who breaks."
The clones dispersed like mist. The five, silent, knew this was only the beginning.
Elsewhere – Beneath the Gate
The Sovereign stood in stillness. Beside him, the Gate thrummed. But it no longer rebelled. It breathed.
And beside him, cloaked in shifting essence, stood Arkzen.
His form was wrapped in black and crimson threads of essence — an unplaceable pressure surrounding him. His face, now partially visible, seemed… too perfect. Too calm. Eyes like burnt glass watched the monolith.
"I can feel it," Arkzen murmured. "Each ripple. Each defiance. He's approaching something."
The Sovereign flexed a claw. "He believes he can reach beyond Ethereal."
"And yet," Arkzen said softly, "he stumbles. As if he needs permission."
The Sovereign chuckled. "Perhaps that's what separates us. We do not wait for permission."
They turned to a formation — no, a construct. Half-formed, its core pulsating like a heart yet unawakened. Around it, dead Varnoks melted into liquid essence, feeding it.
"What will it become?" Arkzen asked.
The Sovereign's grin widened. "The final scream."
Arkzen tilted his head. "Three months. Let's see if he understands his cage by then."
A pause.
"And if not… we'll give him the truth."
Elandor – Later That Night
Kael stood at the edge of the wall again, cloak torn, fingers still singed from his clone control.
His gaze drifted upward. The stars blinked wrong again.
The pressure inside him was shifting.
He couldn't reach Primordius. Not yet.
But something inside him stirred. A whisper not of essence… but of memory.
Not yet.
Not ready.
Not whole.
Kael clenched his fist.
"I'll break through. Even if the world itself resists me."
Far behind him, the five chosen continued to train in silence, lit only by the glow of Essence torches.
And above them all — the Gate pulsed once.
Then once more.