Night returned to the valley with an unnatural stillness.
Kalem had gone to prepare the wards around the shrine, leaving Lukas alone by the sacred pool behind the temple. Moonlight shimmered on the water's surface, illuminating the agimat mark faintly glowing beneath his skin—right above his heart.
He traced it with his fingers. It pulsed gently, in rhythm with his breath.
Since entering the shrine, Lukas had stopped hearing only his own thoughts. Now, sometimes, something else stirred—like a second voice sleeping deep within him. Watching. Waiting.
He closed his eyes and dipped his fingers into the water.
Suddenly, the pool flared gold.
And he fell inward.
---
He stood on an endless sea of clouds, bathed in starlight.
All around him were whispers—not words, but impressions. Fire. Rage. Creation. Loss.
Then, from the mist, a figure emerged.
Not a man. Not a monster.
A god.
Bathala.
He wore no crown, no armor—only robes of burning light and eyes like molten suns. His form shifted constantly, as if made of galaxies and storms.
"You are the flame that remembers," the voice said—not from his mouth, but from the very air. "And the world will try to extinguish you."
Lukas stepped forward. "Why me?"
"Because you dared to question. You saw the serpent in your dreams before you ever knew its name."
"The Bakunawa?"
Bathala nodded. "The Devourer of Moons. My greatest failure. My lost child."
Lukas stiffened. "What?"
"She was once light," Bathala said, sorrow in his voice. "A guardian of tides. Until she turned from harmony and fed on the skies. I cast her down. But now she rises again, fueled by human fear… and the awakening of my fire."
Lukas's voice shook. "Can I stop her?"
The god looked at him—not with judgment, but deep mourning.
"Only if you embrace all that you are. Even the parts that terrify you."
The clouds below cracked with thunder.
"You are not just my heir," Bathala said. "You are my choice."
The vision shattered—
---
Lukas gasped and stumbled back from the pool, soaked in sweat and breathless.
Kalem was there in seconds. "What happened?"
"She spoke to me," Lukas said. "The serpent. I heard her whispering."
Kalem's eyes darkened. "That means she's stirring. It's faster than we thought."
"There's more," Lukas said, standing. "She's not just a monster. She's... broken. Twisted. And she's not alone."
Kalem was quiet for a long time.
Finally, he said, "Then we need allies."
He drew a weathered map from his robes and unfolded it on the temple stone.
"These marks—" he pointed to seven locations scattered across the archipelago, from the peaks of Ifugao to the underwater ruins of Panay. "Each one hides an agimat. And maybe… an heir."
Lukas stared at the map, his hands trembling slightly.
"They don't even know they're part of this."
"Neither did you, until the stone chose you."
Lukas clenched his fists.
"Then let's find them. All of them. Before the Aswang or worse do."
---
Far below the mountain shrine, in the shadow of a dead tree, something ancient uncurled its spine.
Its eyes opened—seven of them.
It had felt the flame awaken.
And it smiled.
The heir had begun his journey.
But it had already started its hunt.