Light streamed through the infirmary window, filtered by fluttering curtains as a gentle breeze carried the scent of lavender from the garden below. Grim Arclight stirred beneath crisp white sheets, his eyelids fluttering open. For a moment, the world was quiet. Just the soft rhythm of his heartbeat and the distant hum—like the sigh of stars echoing in a hollow sky.
Then the memories came.
The summoning circle.
The Bakunawa.
The voice.
He jolted upright.
A warm hand pressed against his chest, firm yet gentle.
"Easy," said a familiar voice.
Liya.
She sat beside him, fingers still resting against his sternum, her eyes rimmed with worry and fatigue. Her healer's uniform was wrinkled, the cuffs stained with faint traces of glowing ointment. "You've been out for nearly a day. You scared us."
Grim's gaze swept the room. White walls pulsed faintly with magical wards—golden glyphs etched like ancient veins. Marcus snored softly in a nearby chair, a half-eaten apple resting in his lap. A small music orb played a soft lullaby from a nearby shelf.
"What... happened after I collapsed?" Grim asked, his throat dry.
Liya withdrew a small bottle from her pouch, uncorked it, and helped him drink. Cool, minty liquid slid down his throat.
She nodded toward a satchel on the table. "The book you carried—it started glowing. Ms. Karina nearly summoned the whole faculty. They couldn't get near it."
Grim's gaze lingered on the satchel, then drifted to the window. His fingers brushed his temple.
He could still hear it.
The whisper.
Faint. Melodic. Like a dream sung by a forgotten sky.
**—Endure. And I shall wait.**
---
Later that evening, Grim found a letter slipped beneath his dorm door. The seal bore the emblem of the Sword Saint.
The Dean was calling.
The central tower of Philippine Hunter University rose like a spine of steel and stone, ancient glyphs embedded between modern glass. The elevator creaked as it ascended to the top floor, where the air thinned with magic and history.
When the doors opened, Grim stepped into a grand chamber. Obsidian pillars reached toward a domed ceiling etched with constellations. Behind a wide desk, Dean Jack Rizalde, the Sword Saint himself, stood reading an old document.
"Grim Arclight," he said without turning. "Sit."
Grim obeyed.
Rizalde finally looked up, his sharp eyes full of quiet storm.
"What you awakened in that dungeon was not supposed to exist. Not anymore."
"You knew about the summoning circle?" Grim asked.
Rizalde nodded. "It predates the Cataclysm—older than any modern dungeon classification. It was sealed, hidden. We believed it collapsed. But you activated it. And more importantly… it responded to you."
Grim swallowed. "What does that mean?"
The Dean opened a drawer and placed something on the desk—a shard of silver that shimmered like moonlight on still water.
"This was recovered after your collapse. A Lunar Shard. It resonates only with the bloodline of summoners chosen by deities."
Grim stared at it. The shard pulsed faintly, syncing with the rhythm of his heart.
"So I'm… chosen?"
Rizalde chuckled humorlessly. "No. You're marked. Summoners like you were feared, hunted, and eventually erased from history. You are a thread from a tapestry we thought burned."
He leaned forward. "You are Celestial-Bound."
The words hung heavy in the air.
Grim's hands trembled. "Why me?"
"I don't know," Rizalde admitted. "But I know this—you must grow. Quietly. If word spreads, others will come. Not to guide you. To kill you."
Grim nodded slowly.
The Dean's voice softened. "Do you know what happened to the last Celestial-Bound?"
Grim shook his head.
"Neither do I. Their stories were erased… not forgotten. *Erased.*"
---
Later that night, Grim returned to his dorm to find someone leaning against his door.
Elyse.
She wore her pristine student council uniform, gravity aura faint like the hush before a storm. Her arms were crossed, but her expression was unreadable.
"I heard what happened," she said. "Zeke and Krisha wouldn't tell me much. I wanted to see for myself."
Grim unlocked his door, gesturing for her to follow. "I'm fine. Just… tired."
Inside, the room smelled of ink, leather, and ozone.
Elyse's eyes scanned the room, then settled on him. "You're hiding something. I study celestial mechanics. When you collapsed… the moon dipped. I felt it."
He met her gaze. "Something's waking up inside me. I don't fully understand it yet. But I don't think I can ignore it any longer."
She stepped closer. "Then let me help."
A pause.
Grim nodded once.
---
Classes resumed. Ms. Karina didn't mention the incident, but her eyes lingered on Grim often. Marcus and Liya stayed close, never asking questions he didn't want to answer.
During nights, Grim searched the archives. Elyse, using her clearance as president, helped him bypass restrictions. They sat for hours among glowing tomes, their whispers blending with the rustle of ancient pages.
It was during one of these nights that Grim found it—a leather-bound book titled *"Celestial Pacts and Divine Beasts."*
The moment he opened it, the text shimmered, rearranging into modern script.
*"The Celestial Pact is forged not through power alone, but sacrifice, understanding, and purpose. Only those who look inward can command the stars."*
The pages turned on their own.
A phrase glowed:
**"Reclaim the Moon that was swallowed."**
A chill raced down his spine.
Outside, the clouds parted. The moon glowed bloodsilver.
---
A week later, another summons came—this time to the underground coliseum.
The arena was empty.
At its center: a summoning circle, ancient and jagged, pulsing silver. Five floating lunar fragments hovered above it, spinning like tiny moons.
The whispers returned.
**—Face your own eclipse.—**
The circle roared. A creature emerged—not the Bakunawa, but a Lunar Wraith, all shadow and moonlight. Its form twisted, rippling like smoke wrapped in armor.
Grim raised his hand. "Minokawa."
The summon burst from above, light splitting the darkness. Golden feathers scattered like fire. The mythical eagle shrieked, its cry shaking the walls.
The Wraith charged.
Minokawa intercepted mid-air. They clashed in a storm of light and shade. Gravity warped. Lunar winds howled.
Grim staggered as a beam of moonlight slashed Minokawa's wing. Pain echoed through his body.
He could feel it.
Their bond was deeper than command. They moved as one.
Another blow. Minokawa faltered.
Grim dropped to his knees, blood trailing from his lips. The Wraith split into three.
He heard her.
**"Endure. Offer purpose. Show me your heart."**
Grim stood, his hand over his heart.
"I'm not summoning for power," he whispered. "I want to protect. I want to fight for those who can't. Even if I hide in shadows… I'll become a beacon."
The Lunar Shard on his chest pulsed. Light burst from his chest.
The Wraith froze.
And bowed.
The fragments returned to the sky.
Trial complete.
---
Dean Rizalde stepped into the arena, slow applause echoing across stone.
"You passed."
Grim swayed. "What now?"
The Dean approached, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Now," he said, "you begin training not just as a summoner—but as a future celestial guardian."
Above them, the moon pulsed gently.
Watching.
Waiting.