The echoes of the failed summoning clung to Grim like shadows beneath his skin. For the first time since arriving at Philippine Hunter University, doubt had taken root in his heart. The ancient book—the *Book of the Bakunawa*—rested on his desk, closed but faintly vibrating, as if breathing with a will of its own. Its silver-lined pages no longer radiated with energy. The summoning circle he'd tried to complete in the underground guild had vanished the moment his attempt failed.
**What was he missing?**
He couldn't stop replaying the moment—the way the book had opened by itself, revealing the coiled Eclipse Serpent swimming through a void of stars. He had felt something then: a force greater than any monster, any human, any blessing he'd ever known. It had called to him.
And just as he answered, it had slipped through his fingers like mist.
Since then, sleep had abandoned him. When he closed his eyes, he saw **lunar waves crashing over broken islands**, a sea swallowing moonlight, and above it all, **a serpent's glowing eyes**—watching from the dark. Not with menace. With **judgment**.
---
His friends noticed the change.
"Dude, you look like you got hit by a truck," Marcus muttered one afternoon, flopping into the seat beside Grim during a tactical lecture. "Did you even eat today?"
"I'm fine," Grim mumbled, eyes glazed, staring at the projected battle formations on the screen.
Liya leaned in, concern plain in her voice. "You're not. You haven't smiled in days. That's not like you."
He gave a hollow shrug. "Just tired."
But beneath the desk, his hand was trembling slightly. The weight of expectations—of power unclaimed—pressed heavier with each passing day. Somewhere deep inside, a part of him whispered: *What if you're not meant to summon it?*
---
That night, the book stirred.
Grim sat alone in his dorm, bathed in the moonlight that filtered through his window. The book's cover glowed faintly, and the pages fluttered open on their own, stirred by windless force. A new passage revealed itself—etched in a language he had never studied, yet somehow **understood**:
*"When the moon wanes and the sea rises, the serpent shall listen."*
The words throbbed with ancient power, and something warm tugged at his core—as if the book reached for his very soul.
"Why can't I summon you?" Grim whispered, voice barely audible over the silence.
In answer, an image formed—of himself, standing at a cliff's edge, arms outstretched toward a stormy sea. Thunder rolled. The ocean churned.
Then, nothing.
---
The next morning, the summons came.
A B-rank dungeon had opened in the Sierra Madre range. But the readings were erratic—pulsing dangerously close to A-rank. The Hunter Association quickly coordinated with PHU, dispatching a team of elite students under faculty supervision.
Dean Rizalde approached Grim after class, his presence cutting through the air like a drawn blade.
"You're joining the excursion," he said.
Grim blinked. "But—"
"It's not a request. Ms. Karina insisted. I agree with her."
Grim didn't argue. He couldn't. Maybe the dungeon held answers.
---
The team assembled swiftly: Grim, Marcus, and Liya, joined by two formidable third-years—**Zeke**, a martial artist whose Iron Body could shatter steel, and **Krisha**, a mysterious girl who manipulated living shadows. **Ms. Karina**, PHU's combat arts professor, led them.
From the moment they stepped into the rift, Grim felt it—**something ancient**, watching from just beyond the mist.
The air shimmered with **lunar particles**, the dungeon walls inlaid with glowing runes shaped like tidal spirals and phases of the moon. Even Ms. Karina narrowed her eyes.
"This isn't a random gate," she said. "It's... designed."
Celestial beasts prowled the corridors—**Moonfang Direwolves** with fur like starlight, and **light-bleeding leeches** that hissed when struck. Zeke tore through them with his bare fists, each blow cracking the earth. Krisha's shadows danced around her, silent and swift, devouring threats before they reached the others.
But as they descended deeper, the dungeon changed. The stone underfoot became polished like temple floors. Walls bore murals depicting celestial events—**eclipses, tides, and serpents coiling around moons**.
Grim's heart pounded.
---
At the dungeon's heart lay a vast stone chamber, silent and untouched by time. In its center rested a cracked **summoning circle**, old and weathered, but humming with dormant power. The walls pulsed in rhythm with Grim's heartbeat.
As he stepped forward, the book in his satchel **vibrated violently**, searing with warmth.
He fell to one knee as the world around him vanished.
---
He stood beneath a sky **without stars**, atop a sea that stretched to eternity. The waters churned, lightning dancing along the horizon. And from the depths, it rose:
**The Bakunawa.**
Its form was colossal—**obsidian coils dusted with silver**, its eyes twin full moons blazing in the dark. Every breath stirred the ocean. Every movement bent reality.
"You returned," the serpent rumbled, its voice echoing through the void.
Grim took a trembling step forward. "I want to summon you."
"You are not ready," the Bakunawa said, gazing into him with eyes that saw beyond time.
"Why? What am I missing?"
The serpent's coils turned the sea to foam. "The bond must be more than power. To wield me, you must offer purpose. Not just strength... but heart."
Grim's lips parted—but no answer came. He saw flashes of his doubt, his fears, his envy of others more in control of their blessings.
The Bakunawa began to fade, its final words thundering through the void:
**"Endure. And I shall wait."**
The heavens cracked.
And Grim fell.
---
In the real world, Marcus caught him just before he hit the stone.
"Grim!" Liya's voice rang with panic, her hands already glowing with healing light.
Krisha stood still, shadows curling around her like curious vines. "That circle reacted to him."
Zeke frowned, arms crossed. "That wasn't just a reaction. That was... an answer."
Ms. Karina approached the now-glowing summoning circle, then glanced at the **book** that had spilled from Grim's satchel—its cover etched with a new symbol, **a serpent coiled around a moon**.
"Take him back," she said firmly. "Now."
As they carried Grim out, the summoning circle glowed ever brighter—its cracked lines now whole.
And beneath the chamber, hidden from all eyes, **a mirrored symbol** lit up on Grim's arm—pulsing softly beneath his skin.
The dungeon was silent.
But it was not done.