Dawn broke over Amaranth in hues of rust and gold. The rain had passed, but its ghost lingered — every leaf dripping, every stone slick with light. The valley shimmered faintly, and for the first time since the battle, the Rift's hum could be felt beneath the soles of their boots, like a heartbeat pulsing under the world.
Kairo stood at the northern ridge again. From there, he could see the faint trails of Riftlight threading through the soil — not random, not chaotic. They were growing, spreading outward like veins beneath the skin of a sleeping giant.
Reika joined him, brushing damp hair from her eyes. "They weren't there yesterday," she said.
"I know." Kairo's tone was distant, cold. "The Rift is expanding again — but not from the sky this time. It's rising from below."
Taro approached behind them, his usual grin replaced by unease. "So, what, the ground's gonna start bleeding light now? That's… comforting."
Kairo didn't answer. His eyes traced the faint glow as it crept toward the horizon. "It's not just Rift energy. It's something deeper — the remnants of the old power we sealed away."
Reika frowned. "You mean your power."
Kairo didn't deny it.
By noon, the village was in motion. Mira and her team had begun tracing the veins, following them through the fields where the grass had turned pale and hot to the touch. Animals avoided the lines entirely; even the wind seemed reluctant to cross them.
Lyra knelt beside one, her crimson runes flaring faintly. "It's not just Rift residue," she said. "It's alive."
Renn looked uneasy. "Alive?"
"Like roots," Lyra said softly. "Like something's growing underneath."
Mira's gaze hardened. "Then we dig."
They followed the lines for nearly an hour until they reached a hollow — a shallow pit filled with blackened soil and faint, rhythmic light. When Renn's hammer struck the earth, the ground sang — a sound of crystal breaking.
And then, the light erupted.
Kairo and Reika arrived seconds later. The clearing was a whirlpool of flame and light — Riftfire bursting from the soil, tendrils of golden smoke wrapping around Mira and her team. Noel stood at the centre, his eyes wide, his power answering the call instinctively.
The earth split open beneath him. From the rifted ground, molten stone began to rise — not lava, but crystallised ash, pulsing like a heart. The same kind of formation Kairo had once used to forge his throne.
Kairo's voice cut through the chaos. "Noel! Stop!"
"I'm not doing this!" the boy shouted, his voice trembling. "It's you! It's your flame!"
Kairo stepped forward, his aura igniting — faint embers dancing along his hands, not out of anger but fear. "It's both of us," he whispered.
The Riftlight reached toward him like tendrils, drawn to the shared essence between them. The cycle — the inheritance — was no longer bound to a soul. It had become part of the land itself.
Reika dragged Mira and the others back as the ground solidified, sealing the pit in a burst of heat and smoke. When it cleared, a shape stood in the centre — a crystalline growth, smooth and black, with faint golden veins running through it.
It pulsed once. Then again.
A heartbeat.
Later, as dusk fell, the villagers gathered around the new formation. No one dared to approach it. It stood silent, cold, and beautiful — like a monument to everything they feared.
Taro broke the silence. "So… anyone wanna tell me why the earth just gave birth to a demon heart?"
Mira didn't answer. Her eyes were fixed on Kairo, who knelt before the structure, palm pressed to its surface. The glow of his aura matched the veins perfectly.
Reika watched him, her expression tight. "It's resonating with you."
Kairo nodded slowly. "Because it's not just a Rift scar anymore."
"Then what is it?"
He looked up, eyes burning faintly in the dim light.
"A seed," he said. "Planted centuries ago — by me."
The others stared in silence. Kairo rose, his hand trembling as he turned away.
"When I died the first time," he said quietly, "the Tyrant King's body was destroyed — but his power wasn't. It sank into the roots of Amaranth itself. And now that power is waking again — not through a man, but through the world."
Reika stepped closer. "Then that means—"
Kairo finished the thought for her. "This time, we're not fighting a king." He looked toward the black heart pulsing in the twilight. "We're fighting a world reborn in his image."
The heart pulsed again — and somewhere deep beneath Dawnspire, something ancient answered its call.