The week following the Combat Trials settled over Philippine Hunter University like a strange fog. The usual vibrant energy in the halls quieted, conversations turned into hushed murmurs, and the name Grim Arclight passed from student to student like wildfire. Professors lingered in doorways as he walked by, analyzing him with a mixture of curiosity and concern. Upperclassmen who once ignored him now gave slight nods of respect. Even the first-years treated him like a myth walking among them.
Grim, however, didn't quite know how to respond.
"I didn't even do anything *that* insane," he muttered one afternoon, lounging beneath the wide shade of a narra tree near the eastern garden.
Marcus stared. "You summoned a divine eagle that looked ready to eat the moon."
"It was the *mini* version," Grim said, offering a smirk as he leaned back on his elbows.
Liya huffed. "Mini or not, it screamed like a banshee and nearly shattered the gym windows. Professor Callan almost tripped over his own cane."
Despite their banter, Grim could feel something had shifted. It wasn't just about the Minokawa anymore. Since the summoning, he'd been haunted by an unfamiliar presence—an ancient rhythm in his bloodstream. It pulsed quietly, like the steady beat of a war drum heard through layers of earth.
It wasn't fear. It wasn't anxiety.
It was a call.
A summons.
He didn't understand what it meant—until the letter arrived.
---
It appeared in his locker with no trace of who had delivered it. The envelope was sealed with silver wax, imprinted with the crescent moon wrapped in a coiled serpent—an emblem he didn't recognize. When he picked it up, the parchment shimmered with faint mana.
**"If you wish to understand your path, come to the Forgotten Archives. Midnight. Alone."**
Grim considered ignoring it. Maybe it was a prank. Maybe it was bait. But the pull in his chest grew stronger, an invisible thread tugging at something deep inside him. A part that had been waiting.
That night, beneath the shroud of rainfall and with the academy locked down for curfew, Grim ventured past the outer dorm halls and toward the oldest, dust-laden wings of PHU. He crept beyond forgotten doors and beneath weathered murals, past empty classrooms untouched by time. His summoner glyphs glowed faintly, reacting to dormant wards and lingering echoes in the walls.
He found the hidden passage behind a portrait of PHU's first Headmistress. With a gentle press against the frame, it creaked open, revealing a stairwell descending into silence.
---
The air thickened as he descended into the depths. The passage opened into a cavernous chamber—lit not by torches, but by floating crystals suspended in air, glowing with preserved mana. Dust swirled in the air, disturbed by his presence. Every breath tasted ancient, like the place hadn't been touched in centuries.
And he wasn't alone.
A dozen cloaked figures stood in silence, robes adorned with archaic runes that shimmered faintly. Their faces were concealed by hoods, but their very presence radiated age, power, and authority.
One stepped forward, the gravity of his voice cutting through the stillness.
"Welcome, Grim Arclight. The Summoner's Guild has awaited your coming."
Grim's gaze narrowed. "You know me?"
"We know *of* you," a second figure said—a woman, her voice melodic and threaded with ancient resonance. It felt like a song from the stars.
"You carry the blessing of Summoning," she continued. "But not like others. Yours is not a contract. It is resonance. Your summons answer not command—but connection."
The chamber tingled with power.
"This vault was once the heart of all summoners," the first man explained. "Before PHU, before the Fall of the Seven Gates, before the gods withdrew from the world. We safeguarded this sanctum in secrecy. And now, it stirs for you."
They led him deeper into the vault, past glass cases of enchanted relics, rows of scrolls sealed with divine wards, and mana-infused tablets. At the heart of the sanctum stood a raised altar, and upon it—a grimoire.
It looked unassuming. Worn. Silent.
But it radiated a quiet gravity that made Grim's blood thrum.
"This book has been asleep for centuries," the woman said. "It has never opened for any living soul in the last hundred years. But you… you carry the echo. The old world stirs in your blood."
Grim stepped closer. His summoning glyphs pulsed with silvery fire. The moment his fingers brushed the leather cover, the vault responded.
A low hum.
Then a thrum, like a heartbeat shared by the world itself.
Mana burst from the book like a wave. Scrolls vibrated, relics shimmered. The grimoire flipped open on its own, pages fluttering until it stopped.
An illustration revealed itself: a massive serpent coiled through a starless void, its scales gleaming like moonsilver, its eyes twin orbs of cosmic light.
**Bakunawa, the Eclipse Serpent.**
Visions surged into Grim's mind.
Tides surging. Moons swallowed. A celestial guardian mistaken for a monster. A creature so vast it blanketed the sky—but beneath its power was sorrow, duty, and sacrifice.
Then words formed in his mind:
**"Bakunawa, the Eclipse Serpent. Born of lunar essence and celestial silence, this guardian slumbers in the depths of the Philippine seas. Its scales reflect the night sky. Its roar silences magic. It devours light not for destruction—but to balance fate.**
**Abilities: Lunar Devour, Celestial Pulse, Tidefall Wrath.**
**The Bakunawa does not obey. It chooses."**
Grim gasped, his knees buckling. The chamber swam before his eyes.
But something inside him urged him on.
He placed a hand on the page and whispered, "Bakunawa, I call you."
The summoning circle erupted beneath him, larger and more intricate than any before. Glyphs spiraled outward like waves, radiating moonlight. The chamber darkened.
Then—an eye opened.
Massive. Ancient. A gaze that saw through time.
A voice pierced the air—not through ears, but the soul.
**"You are not yet ready."**
The summoning shattered.
Grim collapsed, breath stolen.
The cloaked figures remained still, solemn.
"That was no summoning," the woman said. "That was judgment."
She knelt beside him. Her tone was gentle now. "The Bakunawa is a guardian of balance. It answers not strength, but harmony. You wield power, Grim Arclight. But your spirit remains untempered."
Grim clenched his fists. "Then what do I lack?"
"Yourself," she said simply. "You must understand who you are before commanding a being that eclipses fate."
---
Later that night, Grim emerged from the vault, drenched in rain and haunted by the experience. Lightning traced the horizon. Thunder murmured in the distance.
He had glimpsed something vast. Something real.
The power was there—but he wasn't ready.
Not yet.
He looked at his hands. The glyphs flickered softly, pulsing with residual lunar energy.
What he needed now wasn't a monster to summon.
He needed purpose.
---
High above, in the tallest tower of the Student Council quarters, Elyse stood alone on her balcony. The storm had passed, but a strange chill lingered.
The moon, veiled by clouds, pulsed faintly.
Kana appeared beside her, holding two mugs. She hesitated, then offered one.
"You felt it too," Kana whispered.
Elyse nodded, her gaze still locked on the sky. "A summoning attempt. But… ancient. More than just magic. It was like the world blinked."
"The moon dimmed for a second," Kana added.
Elyse closed her eyes. In her mind, she saw a serpent. Not vile—but regal. A celestial guardian wrapping around the heavens.
"Grim…" she murmured.
Kana tilted her head. "You think it was him?"
Elyse's hand brushed her pendant. "I *know* it was."
And deep within her heart, she sensed something awakening in tandem with Grim's growth. Something inevitable.
The celestial tide had turned.