Lumina stood on the balcony of a long-abandoned temple. The evening breeze gently blew through her hair. But it wasn't the wind that made her tremble—it was the words she had just heard.
She hadn't heard them with her ears, but through the spiritual link she could never shut off. She heard her mother's voice say, "She should never have been born." She heard her father remain silent. And her uncles agreed.
The Hellseer Council, once a distant shadow, had now fused into a painful reality.
"Lumina."
Enver's voice was calm, but sharp—like a blade peeling open an old wound.
She turned slowly. Their eyes met. Enver didn't hug her, didn't step closer. He simply stood a few steps behind.
"What do you want to do now… and from here on?" he asked.
Lumina looked down, trying to hold back the tears welling in her eyes.
"I don't know," she whispered. "But I do know one thing… I won't run anymore."
Enver nodded. He said nothing. He didn't need to. Her answer was enough.
Far away, in a place hidden even from human eyes—and from most Hellseers—three figures sat around an ancient stone table.
Kavdrin, his black and red robe frayed by time, opened the meeting with a heavy voice.
Miredan, whose face was always unreadable, simply stared blankly at the wall.
Alvron, Lumina's uncle, gazed at them with red-rimmed eyes, as if he hadn't slept for days.
"We've failed again and again," Alvron muttered. "Why bring me here just to talk about our failures?"
"We must decide now," said Kavdrin. "Lumina… her life essence is unstable. If left unchecked, she could become a bridge between dimensions even Maxcen never imagined."
Miredan finally spoke, his voice as faint as a cold wind.
"Or… she could become the key to restoring the dimension we ourselves shattered."
Alvron clenched his fists. "That child should never have existed. We all know it. Especially her own parents."
Kavdrin fell silent. A memory stirred—one he had never shared.
An old note, handwritten by Lumina's mother—a dream she recorded before giving birth.
"If she truly lives… protect her. Even if I must one day face her. For her life is not a mistake—but born of ours."
Kavdrin still kept it. Hidden from the Council, from Lumina's family, from everything.
Miredan turned to him as if he knew—but said nothing.
"We must act," Alvron continued. "We can't let that child become a nightmare worse than Maxcen."
Kavdrin stood. "But nightmares aren't just born from who she is… sometimes, they're born from who we are."
Alvron stared sharply. "You're growing weak."
"Not weak," said Kavdrin quietly. "Just… starting to ask questions."
Elsewhere, Lumina sat alone, staring at the night sky. She could feel the pressure growing inside her. A power slowly awakening… something not of this world.
And she knew… the time was near.
Whether to become a savior—
or to be erased by the very hands of her own family.