The Hollow of Stilled Glass shimmered with residual light, the air still humming from Dawn's transformation. Gary and Ingrid waited outside, the needles within the cavern having long since embedded themselves into Dawn's body. Though they could not see the intricate process taking place within, they could feel it. The resonance in the air, the pulsing thrum of energy weaving itself through something new. Something divine.
That was when Gary heard the crunch.
Boots against gravel.
He turned, and his heart sank.
"Visitors," he said, low and tense.
Ingrid followed his gaze. A shadow of bodies loomed at the mouth of the Hollow, and stepping into view with all the subtlety of a storm was Cedric Vaughn. Behind him, five other students—his usual lackeys—wore sneers and the kind of swagger that only cowards wore when numbers were on their side.
Gary stepped forward, voice sharp. "You're not supposed to be here."
Cedric's chuckle was deep and mock-sweet. "Neither are you, technically. Funny how rules bend when no one's watching."
"Leave," Ingrid said, stepping beside Gary.
Cedric ignored her. His eyes were on the glowing entrance to the Hollow. He couldn't understand what was happening inside, but he knew enough.
Something important was happening.
And if he could ruin it, maybe he could claw back a shred of relevance.
Gary knew what that look meant. He widened his stance and cracked his knuckles. He'd never properly wielded his Celestial potential—he hadn't been trained to—but he wasn't helpless. Far from it.
Cedric tilted his head, eyes glinting. "Going to stop me, Amberson? Alone?"
"Not alone," Ingrid said.
But Cedric's group was already moving.
Gary moved first, his foot sweeping out in a tight arc, catching the closest boy off balance. His elbow snapped backward, catching another in the stomach, and he pivoted to put his back to Ingrid's. She was already moving away and bringing out a slingshot, one given to her by Dawn.
They worked in unison. Gary fought like a tactician, targeting knees and ribs, using his opponents' weight against them. But they had numbers. And after his third counter, someone landed a punch that blurred his vision. Then a boot caught his ribs.
He grunted, dropping to one knee.
"Still standing?" Cedric asked, stepping forward, fists clenched. "You nobles fall hard, don't you?"
Gary spat blood, chest heaving. "I may fall. But you're still beneath me."
Cedric scowled, then drove a heavy punch into Gary's side. The noble crumpled with a groan.
Ingrid screamed, a pebble sent flying by the slingshot towards one of the attackers, causing him to lump backwards in pain. But she too was tired. Slingshots can only shoot so many at once. A heavy grip caught her wrist, twisted her around, and slammed her against the cave wall. Pain danced up her spine.
Cedric loomed over them both, chest heaving. His eyes flicked to the glowing entrance of the Hollow.
He didn't know what Dawn was doing. But it looked important.
And fragile.
"Let's see how focused your precious friend stays if I toss something big into his little bubble," he muttered.
He grabbed a nearby rock—jagged and half his size—and began dragging it toward the entrance.
Ingrid whimpered. Gary reached out, fingers barely able to move. "Don't—"
"Shut it," Cedric snarled.
He hoisted the rock over his head.
From the shadows beyond, a figure had been watching. A cloaked silhouette, presence masked, hands folded in their sleeves. Instructor Valeris. His eyes narrowed. He had been ready to intervene. To stop this madness. He took one step forward—
And then he paused.
Because something shifted.
A presence. A pressure.
Not an aura, not magic.
Intent.
It sliced through the clearing like a blade made of pure instinct.
Cedric froze mid-throw.
The rock slipped from his grasp, thudding harmlessly beside him.
And then Dawn stepped from the light.
His body pulsed with the afterglow of the luminous frame. His eyes, usually calm, now blazed with something raw. Not wrath, but something colder. More focused.
His gaze fell on Gary—bruised, bloodied, slumped.
Then Ingrid—panting, holding her ribs.
Dawn's hands clenched. The air around him wavered, the light refracting oddly.
Cedric stumbled back a step, unsure. "You—You're done already?"
Dawn didn't answer.
He walked forward, one step at a time, the dust beneath him parting. The fractured stilled light clung to his frame, outlining his skeleton in faint gleam.
The luminous frame was still fresh. Still delicate.
But Dawn had already made it his.
Cedric raised a hand, half a threat, half a defense. "Don't try anything. You're outnumbered."
Dawn looked at him as if he were already gone.
Valeris remained in the shadows, watching, unreadable.
The boy who had entered the Hollow was not the one who had stepped out.
And for the first time since this petty war began, Cedric felt something he had never associated with Dawn.
Terror
And soon that terror will become a horror none ever anticipated.
---
To be continued