“Wait… Miss Lian?” Kyle blinked fast, the name settling like a jolt down his spine. “Isn’t she the—”

  “Another Legend?” Levi cut in, not looking away from the fire. “Yeah, not really the time to geek out.”

  Kyle gave a half-scoff, half-laugh and tossed a twig into the flames. “Tch. Fair.”

  “But isn't it kinda weird though?” Violet’s voice was soft, as her eyes darting between the currently frozen Reinhart and the flame in front of them.

  "Mr. Garrion… Miss Lian… One could be a coincidence, sure, but two high-ranking Sentinels teaching the same grade?”

  She let the sentence hang, the question burning itself into the silence.

  “Yeah. That’s… strange.” Levi nodded slowly, “Those kinds of people would usually be expected to be placed in top-tier classes. Like… university level, not—us.”

  “Well right now, that strange occurrence is working well for us, so let's question it later,” Kyle said, his voice a bit lighter “Could be coincidence, but… it’s a god damn nice one.”

  Just then, Reinhart’s eyes narrowed slightly.

  “Listen carefully, Reinhart…” Lian’s voice came again—this time, none of the students could hear it. Her tone was tight, words fast, as though something a trap was closing in on her.

  Kyle, Levi, and Violet exchanged glances. They could feel it. Her voice no longer echoed in the air. It was like someone had drawn a curtain around Reinhart’s mind.

  He stood up slowly, taking a few steps back from the trio, with his gaze fixed on nothing in particular.

  "Right now, there’s a barrier in place and it seems to be a complex one. Like it was set up by an S-class..." Lian’s voice continued in his head. "It’s invisible. It disrupts perception—sight, sound, even mana tracking. That's why you can't sense us, or the barrier itself"

  Her voice went low for a heartbeat, laced with fatigue, then returned.

  "I’m currently with Layla and a few others. We landed with some students too, so I’m guessing you’re in a similar situation."

  There was a static, like a cracking radio.

  "Our priority is regrouping. I can’t hold this much longer, so I’m sending you some of my memories." There was another pause, longer this time.

  "Reinhart… please. Get here fast." And then Lian’s voice faded.

  Almost immediately, images began to rapidly flow into Reinhart's head like a video playing too fast to follow.

  The world around him blurred, the sounds of the rustling leaves and creatures far away fading under pressure of the information flooding his mind.

  He was beginning to see the Island's terrain. Some parts were clear, Others were vague outlines of light, moving and pulsing like specters in his mind’s eye.

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  Lian was feeding him her memories—an entire 48-hour archive compressed into seconds. Since the moment she had arrived here, she'd been working nonstop, tracing, mapping, and searching. She didn’t rest. She didn’t sleep. Her determination bled into every image Reinhart now saw.

  In just a single day, she had found Layla and secured a portion of the students. A feat even Garrion struggled with. Not for lack of strength, but because this wasn’t a challenge of brute force.

  Lian wasn’t built for raw combat. Her physical prowess placed her comfortably around the level of a Grade 2, B-ranked Sentinel. But where her body failed, her mind thrived. In terms of control, clarity, and technique, she was an elite amongst elite.

  Sensory tracking. Telepathic threading. Recovery channels. Support and detection. That was Lian’s battlefield, and she had dominated it silently.

  Her gifts were what allowed them this sliver of direction. Her efforts cracked open the fog choking their situation.

  Then, everything stopped. The images faded like mist.

  Reinhart blinked hard, his mind began to register the sounds and atmosphere around him again. The quiet crackle of the fire, the warmth of the flames on his face, and the dampness of the night air.

  “This really is an ordeal” he muttered, rubbing the side of his head as though clearing the static cracks he heard earlier.

  When he turned, the firelight caught the three pairs of eyes staring at him—Levi, Kyle, and Violet—each expression different, yet bound by the same quiet plea.

  "What now?"

  He didn’t offer a lengthy explanation.

  “Wake the others,” Reinhart said simply, his voice low but firm. “Apparently… time isn’t on our side.”

  ***

  The glowing blue balls hovering above illuminated the conference room. The light bounced of rectangular table that sat at its center. Four figures sat around it.. Two men and two women.

  Close to the entrance at the opposite end of the room sat Eldric, a gentle looking man with silver hair that stood out against the navy blue robes he wore.

  On his left and right sat two other individuals, Valthor, with his rigid posture and Elara, composed and graceful, with her hands folded neatly in front of her.

  And next to Elara, Rowena sat, cloaked in deep crimson coat, her sharp eyes and impatient frown already showing her usually fiery temperament.

  The large twin doors slid open, slowly, giving way for Zenon to step in. He carried his usual quiet yet commanding demeanor. He was dressed in a white uniform, lined with black this time and his long black hair was tied into a ponytail.

  As he got closer to the table, he dropped to one knee, bowing his head toward the table.

  “Permission to join you, Elders?”

  Eldric let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Still so formal, Head Captain. Some things never change. You’re fine—take a seat.”

  “I just think respect should go where it’s earned, Elder Eldric.” Zenon gave a small smile as he rose. "Head captain or not, I dare not disrespect the very pillars holding Astrovia together, do I?"

  Eldric couldn't help but let out a short burst of laughter as he heard Zenon's comment.

  Zenon made his way to the empty chair near the door and sat down.

  “I'll assume you already know why we called you here?” Elara asked, her tone gentle but leaving no room for one to feel fully at ease.

  Zenon’s brows furrowed slightly as he leaned back in his seat. “I have some few guesses, yeah,” he said. “But I just think hearing it straight from you would be better.”

  “Zenon,” Rowena started, her voice cutting through the fragile light atmosphere in the room, “we still haven’t gotten an answer from you. About the proposal we discussed a few weeks ago—what’s the plan?”

  “Or,” Elara followed up, her tone firmer than earlier “have you changed your mind?”

  Zenon leaned forward, elbows on the table, fingers loosely interlocked. “The transfer’s doable,” he said, “I’ve confirmed that much. But… there’s a risk. A big one. Going through with it could kill the current vessel.”

  The elders exchanged glances

  "And?" Valthor finally spoke, his deep voice making the table vibrate. “Zenon, please tell me you haven’t forgotten what’s at stake here.

  "You’re the same man who once said the vessel could be discarded, if it meant saving the world. A single misstep could mean disaster for us all.”

  “I haven’t forgotten,” Zenon replied. “But I’ve looked at it again, and I’m not so sure anymore. The current celestial vessel... He has a real shot at mastering it. Maybe even better than I could.”

  “Then what proof do you have that they’re ready? Or that they will be in time?" Rowena's retort came instantly. "The catastrophe could hit without warning, and ‘taking responsibility’ won’t be enough to stop it.”

  “Let’s be honest,” Elara said, gently interjecting before the tension spiked, “there are maybe—what? A handful of people in the universe who can match your strength?"

  "And that's just me being humble on your behalf..." She shook her head.

  "Even if you can’t fully unlock its power, just holding that celestial force would put you leagues above the rest. We trust you. That’s why we wanted you to take it in the first place.”

  "Come on, Zenon..."

  The room fell quiet again

  For years, they’d trusted Zenon’s judgment without question. But now… the hesitation in his created a small crack. Small but enough to let doubt slip in.