The storm over Empire High had not broken. If anything, it had thickened, a bruise stretching across the the sky. The wards groaned in protest, their golden sigils dimming at the edges like candlelight in a gale.
From the outside, students whispered of strange cracks splitting the eastern walls, of statues that wept water instead of shadow, of books in the library whose pages turned on their own to warnings no one could read.
Inside the Umbra Tower, the Circle of Five gathered, raw and fractured from their battle in the Sanctum of Illusion, carrying the taste of smoke and grief on their tongues.
Seraphina stood at the head of the chamber, her arms glowing faintly in the candlelight, the map beneath her skin shifting restless as though it too had been unsettled by what they had endured. She gripped the shard of crystal they had pulled from the Sanctum, its pulse steady against her palm, and for the first time she wondered if she was the one trembling—or if it was the shard itself, vibrating with the Vault's heartbeat.
No one spoke at first.
The silence between them was thick, punctured only by Tobias's uneven breathing as he leaned against the wall, sweat plastering his curls to his forehead. Kaelina sat curled in one of the stone chairs, arms wrapped around herself, her gaze fixed on nothing. Riv stood stiff as a blade beside her, her silver braid swinging with sharp movements every time her jaw clenched.
Mei knelt at the floor, drawing sigils into the stone with chalk that glowed faintly, her hands steady though her shoulders shook.
And Elijah.
Elijah stood at Seraphina's side like a shadow that refused to leave, his presence taut, every line of him wound in control too sharp to be real. His hand brushed near hers once, almost by accident, before he folded it back behind his cloak, as though reminding himself of the restraint he never seemed to break.
The silence weighed heavier with every heartbeat until finally, Tobias let out a bitter laugh.
"So that's it, huh? That's what we're fighting? A Vault that doesn't just throw demons or curses at us but digs inside our heads and plays us like violins?"
His grin was stretched too thin, teeth clenched as though holding himself together by mockery alone. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I don't like having my deepest screwups used as entertainment for some ancient magical parasite."
"It wasn't entertainment," Mei said coldly, rising to her feet and brushing chalk dust from her hands. Her face was composed now, but her eyes were sharp enough to cut. "It was calculation. The Vault doesn't waste effort. It tested us because it needed to know where we break."
"Oh, wonderful," Kaelina muttered from her seat, her voice hoarse. "So it knows I'll crawl after ghosts if it dangles my brother in front of me. Perfect. Maybe next time it'll just snap my neck and save us all the drama."
"Stop it," Riv snapped, though her own voice trembled. "That's exactly what it wants. You think I didn't want to give in too? You think I didn't—"
She broke off, teeth grinding, before she slammed a fist against the stone wall hard enough to leave blood behind.
Seraphina closed her eyes for a moment, breathing through the ache that rose in her chest. Every one of them had faced illusions crueler than steel, and every one of them bore new fractures in their armor.
She knew what it had shown her. Her parents alive. A life free from fire and shadow. Elijah at her side not as a weapon, but as a man.
And she had wanted it. Gods, she had wanted it so badly that for a moment she had believed it. If Elijah hadn't pulled her back—
No. She forced the thought away. She couldn't let herself unravel. Not now.
"We survived," she said finally, her voice steady, though the words scraped her throat raw. "That matters. The Sanctum is sealed, the shard is ours, and the Vault can't undo that."
"Survived," Tobias echoed, shaking his head. "Barely."
His gaze flicked toward her, uncharacteristically serious. "Tell me, Sera, how many more of these can we survive before one of us doesn't come back?"
Her silence was answer enough.
Elijah's voice cut through before the tension could snap. "It doesn't matter how many more. We finish it. All of it. No one stops until the Vault is closed."
His tone brooked no argument, but Seraphina felt the weight of his words all the same. He was holding them together with sheer willpower. The same way he held himself.
"We're not unbreakable," she said quietly.
Elijah's eyes flicked to hers, sharp as ever, but softer at the edges in a way no one else could see.
"Then we learn how to bend."
The Circle dissolved not long after. Kaelina vanished into the east halls without a word, her footsteps too quick, too desperate. Riv followed her, muttering about keeping watch. Tobias muttered something about strong drinks and slipped into the stairwell before anyone could stop him.
Only Mei lingered, her face carved in stone as she bent over the chalk lines again.
Seraphina started to ask what she was doing, but Elijah caught her arm.
"Let her," he murmured. "She needs the control."
So they left together, descending the spiraling staircases of Umbra Tower until the halls grew quiet, until the only sound was the faint hum of the wards outside and the soft echo of their boots against stone.
They didn't speak, not at first. The silence between them was no longer heavy, but taut, strung like a bowstring. Every step made Seraphina more aware of how close he was, how his presence wrapped around her like a shield she hadn't asked for but had begun to crave.
When they reached the balcony overlooking the storm, Seraphina stopped. The sky tore itself open in flashes of gold and black lightning, thunder shaking the very stones. She gripped the railing, her fingers white against the cold iron.
"It doesn't stop," she whispered. "Every time we think we've bought ourselves a moment, the Vault pushes harder. It's like it's alive. Like it knows we're not ready."
Elijah stepped beside her, close enough that his shoulder brushed hers. He didn't move away.
"Then we get ready faster."
She laughed, but it broke in the middle, sharp and bitter. "You make it sound so simple."
His gaze didn't waver. "It is simple. Not easy. But simple. We don't stop until it's done."
Her hands trembled, but she forced them still. "And if we can't? If one of us falls? If I fall?"
Elijah turned to her then, truly turned, his face carved with shadows and fire.
"Then I'll drag you back," he said, voice low, fierce. "Kicking and screaming, if I have to. Because you don't get to fall, Seraphina. Not while I still stand."
The words hit her harder than any blow. She looked up into his eyes and saw it—everything he refused to say aloud, everything he kept buried beneath command and restraint. The tether between them pulled tighter, burning, almost unbearable.
Her chest ached with the force of it. She wanted to close the distance. She wanted to break the "not yet" he had whispered in the Sanctum and shatter the restraint that was killing them both.
But she didn't.
Not yet.
Instead, she whispered, "What happens when you fall?"
His jaw flexed. "Then you drag me back."
For a moment, the storm outside was nothing compared to the storm inside her.
Then the wards flared, a sudden ripple of light skittering across the sky. Both of them stiffened.
The shard in her hand burned hot, searing against her palm. She opened her arms, and the map beneath her skin shifted violently, lines rearranging, symbols flaring. A new point glowed bright and dangerous.
Deep beneath Empire High, under layers of sealed wards and forgotten chambers.
"The Vault isn't finished with us," she whispered.
Elijah's hand brushed hers as they stared at the glowing lines together. This time, he didn't pull away.
The storm raged above, the ground trembled below, and Seraphina knew with bone-deep certainty that the next Sanctum would not just test them. It would break them.
Unless they found a way to break it first.
She closed her fist around the shard, feeling Elijah's shadow steady her like a second heartbeat.
And for the first time since the Oath of Five, she allowed herself to think it.
Not just not yet. But maybe—just maybe—soon.