The ruin froze.
Steel rang, torches hissed, boots scraped across broken stone, but all sound seemed to hollow out when Leo's eyes snapped open. They glowed faintly, not like flame but like the dying embers of a forge, smoldering yet alive, a pulse coiling through the chamber in time with his breath. Each heartbeat sent a ripple across the fractured floor, and the glyphs etched in stone flickered in deference, veins of molten light tracing the cracks like living fire.
The raider captain staggered back, a hand hovering over her hilt, her face pale beneath braids and soot. "Gods… what is he?" Her voice cracked, betraying both fear and fascination.
Sofia did not answer. Her sword remained raised, scar blazing red under the dim glow, each line of her face taut with controlled disbelief. For a fraction of a second, awe betrayed her otherwise unshakable resolve.
Evelyn gasped, pressing trembling fingers to her lips, eyes wide. Relief and terror collided in her chest. "Leo…?"
The boy clutched Leo's wrist like a lifeline, unyielding. "I told you he'd wake," he whispered, voice tight with certainty.
Owen's hand faltered, charcoal dropping from his fingers as his gaze drank in the scene. "He… he touched the fragment, and lived. Not only that, the resonance didn't consume him. No, it answered. Saints preserve us, it answered!" His words tumbled out, breathless and frantic, as if he feared the ruin would swallow them if he paused.
Leo's body trembled as he pushed himself upright, sweat streaking his soot-stained face. Trembling, yes, but not from weakness. The shard's pulse had settled into him, weaving its rhythm into his own heartbeat. He felt it in bone and muscle, a raw, untamed energy that neither begged nor demanded, it waited.
The whispers lingered faintly at the edge of thought, coiling like smoke, yet they no longer drowned him. Now, they listened. Patient, curious, respectful.
He surveyed those around him: Sofia, sword still raised but unwavering; Evelyn, kneeling at his side, hands poised as though to steady him; Owen, eyes wild with both fear and awe; the boy, small but immovable, clutching his wrist with stubborn certainty. Beyond them, the raiders lingered, circling like wolves, their fear colliding with the instinct for conquest, eyes sharp and calculating.
The captain bared her teeth, forcing her voice into steel. "He's cursed. No man survives a ruin's heart. He's nothing but a vessel now."
Leo's hand flexed. A faint tremor ran through the ruin as he rose fully to his feet. Dust spiraled around him, dust that seemed to hum against his skin. Cracks in the stone flared softly, glowing faintly under his gaze, as if the ruin itself held its breath. The subtle pulse of power pressed against every chest, enough to make blades hover, paused mid swing.
"I'm not a vessel," Leo said, hoarse but resolute, voice stronger than he expected. His words carried weight, bending the air in their wake. "I'm still me."
The hum thickened, flowing through the chamber like water through stone. The glyphs beneath their boots pulsed, veins of light dancing in rhythm with Leo's heartbeat. A raider cursed, dropping his torch, stumbling back in shock as the stone seemed to rise beneath his feet. Even the captain faltered, knuckles white on her hilt, a flicker of doubt in her sharp gaze.
Sofia's lips curved, half a grimace, half a smile, tempered steel in a human expression. "Looks like you'll have to test him to find out."
And then the silence broke.
The raiders surged forward.
The first lunged at Leo, dagger gleaming, teeth bared. Yet his body moved before thought, each motion guided by the shard's pulse. He raised a hand, and the chamber seemed to answer, shards of stone quivered, cracks snapping upward, tripping the raider mid-charge. He fell sprawling, a curse and scream spilling from his lips.
Leo staggered back, breath harsh, heart hammering, amber glow flickering like a lantern in the wind. Power burned in him, raw and unsteady, every movement scraping against ribs, sinews, and spirit. Yet for the first time, he was not only running. He was standing.
The shard throbbed in resonance with him, not as a voice, but as a rhythm, a pulse, a call. It neither commanded nor whispered. It recognized.
The boy tugged at his sleeve, eyes wide. "See? I told you. You're still you. And you can fight."
And Leo, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, raised his hands, not to flee, not to hide, but to claim what was his.
The ruin watched. The raiders paused. The air itself held its breath.
And the boy who had once trembled behind Leo now witnessed him rise.
Not as a vessel. Not as a shadow. Not as a fragment of someone else's power.
But as Leo.
Alive. Burning. Whole.