ARTHUR STARLIGHT
"Today's lesson is about phoenixes," Miss Denoir said, pacing in front of the board. "They're one of the very few species capable of true transformation — meaning they can alter their entire biological identity into a perfect copy. Yes, even memories. Don't look so shocked."
Elanor leaned toward me and whispered, "You hear Processor Grey broke up with Miss Denoir?"
I snorted. "Processor Grey was never in love with Miss Denoir. He didn't even date her."
Elanor rolled her eyes. "Still. Miss Denoir is way better than that elf he's seeing now."
Before I could reply, Seraphel snapped her head toward us.
"You two shouldn't be discussing Miss Denoir's love life during class.
"Boring. Fine, sure," I muttered, finally sitting up straight and actually listening to Miss Denoir.
She tapped the board. "A phoenix can only hatch when another phoenix is nearby. And when it's born, it will immediately run toward the phoenix it recognizes."
My stomach dropped.
Shock. Disappointment.
Great.
I slowly pulled out the egg from my bag.
"Well… guess this lil guy ain't hatching anytime soon," I said, voice flat.
Seraphel leaned closer. "Who knows? Maybe it's not even a phoenix egg," she said, trying to comfort me.
"Don't get my hopes up," I sighed — then reached over and pinched Seraphel's cheek just to annoy her.
She puffed up instantly, wings twitching.
After a while, the class finally came to an end.
SERAPHEL MORNINGSTAR
"Oh—here. You should keep this for safekeeping," Arthur said, holding the egg out to me. I took it and slipped it into my bag. Then wave bye to them.
Once I was alone, I cut through the thick forest—wildlife scattering as I passed. The deeper I walked, the more the soil shifted beneath my feet, turning into brick inscribed with old runes. The path led straight into a cave swallowed by darkness.
I stepped inside.
My divine glow spilled out automatically, lighting the cavern like someone flipped a switch. Shadows ran from me. Stone softened under the radiance. It all felt familiar… and scripted.
At the far end stood the tablet.
One touch—gentle, reverent—and the runes surged with light. The connection opened instantly, and my voice carried through the link.
"Progress report," I said, keeping my tone operational despite the churn in my chest. "The vessel hasn't awakened yet. However… the phoenix egg has begun reacting despite there being no phoenixes anywhere nearby. That means the Progenitor is… influencing it somehow."
The words felt heavy, even dangerous, as they left my mouth.
The answering voice came calm… too calm—a corporate lie of a tone.
"Understood, Seraphel. Maintain oversight on the vessel."
But beneath the composure, under the formal cadence…
I sensed it clearly.
Fear.
He continued, voice steady but strained beneath the surface.
"Please, daughter… do not grow too close to him. He is Michael's vessel. When the time comes, we will need Michael to take control of him if we are to stand against the Leviathan."
My fingers tightened on the glowing tablet.
"Understood, Father," I replied.
The words came out smooth, disciplined—exactly how he expected me to speak.
But my chest ached the moment they left my lips.
Because the truth was simple.
And terrifying.
I had gotten close to him.
Closer than I should have.
And somewhere along the way…
I realized I might be falling in love with him.
My father cut into my thoughts, tone clipped and businesslike.
"Now—about Vanitar. My vessel. Is he progressing strongly enough for deployment?"
My mind froze.
"Wait—what? Vanitar is your vessel?"
My father didn't even blink.
"Yes. I assumed you'd already connected the dots. When he was a child, that realmbeast didn't 'implode' for nothing. He carries Death's blessing. That's why he's mine."
My wings twitched in frustration.
"I thought that was just a rumor! Why didn't you tell me something this important?"
I threw my hands up in irritation, my face spiking.
"Unbelievable. So Arthur's Michael's vessel, Vanitar's yours, they're basically brothers, and you and Michael are literally brothers— and you somehow forgot to tell me this minor, world-shaping detail? Seriously, Father?"
My father's voice softened in a way that didn't match anything he said before.
"Ok, fine. I'm sorry, Seraphel. So—how was your day, Seraphel?"
His voice carried that steady warmth he always had with me, the kind that made it hard to keep my guard up. I closed the connection before it could wrap around me. This adds this
I stepped out of the cave and made my way back to the academy. When I walked into class, Arthur and Elanor were already seated. I slid into the seat beside Arthur with a smile—close enough to make him jump in surprise.
"So where were you, Seraphel?" he asked, smiling that smile that made my chest pound way too hard.
"Uh… bathroom," I lied, and of course, Arthur trusted it without a second thought.
Then I looked at him—really looked at him.
His gold-and-white hair flowed like the rivers I used to visit in Heaven, his eyes held that serene, archangel glow, his face as calm as the stillness before dawn. He radiated warmth the way an archangel would, and his voice… gentle, soothing, like the lullaby my mother used to hum before I fell asleep.
ARTHUR STARLIGHT
"Forgotten timelines are branches of time that died out," Professor Ley explained, pacing as he spoke. "And you're probably wondering how we even know they existed. Simple. Remnants still linger — like this artifact."
He lifted an object that looked like carved ancient wood, runes etched deep into its surface.
"This artifact can— actually, how about I just show you," he said with a smirk.
He picked up an apple, activated the artifact, and the apple vanished in a blink.
"Teleportation," he said proudly. "The people from that forgotten timeline mastered it. We still have no idea how it works, which is exactly why you won't be seeing it used in everyday life anytime soon."
He chuckled, clearly delighted with himself.
I raised my hand. "May I ask a question?"
"Sure, go on," Professor Ley said.
"The artifact… could it be a technology that can copy a person with an evolvant? Something like that?"
He grinned. "Sharp. And yes — with another artifact like this one."
He pulled out a second device, similar to runes but with tighter, more intricate patterns.
"This artifact can scan someone's evolvant and create a duplicate artifact that holds the same ability. But there's a catch." His voice dipped, the room going quiet.
"The person whose evolvant gets copied… loses theirs. Completely."
A ripple of unease moved through the class.
"And once an evolvant is erased, the body crashes. They die within fifteen days. The body just can't adjust." He exhaled slowly. "That's why the Ten Kingdoms banned its use."
"So you're telling me the people from that forgotten timeline just… recklessly killed their own people to make life easier for themselves?" I asked, and the whole class shifted, quietly judging a civilization none of us had ever met.
"Yeah. Kinda messed up, right?" Professor Ley said. "But hey, good thing we live in a timeline where that doesn't happen. And remember, every artifact like this comes at a cost: someone's life. That's why we don't use it unless there's absolutely no other choice."
His voice stayed cheerful, but you could hear the sadness bleeding through. He always hated seeing anyone get hurt. It was his whole thing — protecting students, putting himself between danger and everyone else.
The bell rang.
"Oh well, time for you all to head to History. See you later," he said with a wave, carefully gathering the artifacts like they were made of glass, making sure not a single rune was scratched.
Seraphel, Elanor, and I walked to History class together. We took our seats just as the teacher, Miss Campbell, walked in.
"Is everyone having a nice day?" she asked, greeting the class with her usual soft smile.
"Today, we'll be learning about wars — more importantly, about a creature."
She reached into her bag and pulled out a feather that shifted colors constantly, like it couldn't decide what it wanted to be.
"This," she said, holding it up, "is a feather from one of the most dangerous creatures ever recorded. It belonged to a phoenix."
The whole class went quiet, jaws dropping.
"But Miss Campbell, I thought phoenix feathers are always golden, like the sun," Elanor asked.
"Yup. Normally, they are. But this isn't from an ordinary phoenix." She clasped her hands behind her back and began pacing. "As you know, there are three categories of species. First: Life — humans, animals, normal living things. Second: Beasts — realmbeasts, liquid monsters, all those bizarre, impossible creatures. And third: Mythicals — dragons, phoenixes, beings that blend traits of both life and beast. Right?"
"Right," we all answered.
"And each category has a progenitor," she continued. "Life traces back to Eve. Beasts trace back to the Leviathan. And Mythicals… their progenitor is named Reivan."
She lifted the feather again.
"And this feather came from Reivan — the progenitor of all mythical beings."
The room erupted with gasps. Everyone was stunned… except Seraphel.
"Wait— the progenitor of the Mythicals is a phoenix?" Elanor asked, face full of shock.
"Yep," Miss Campbell said casually. "That's right."
"But how is this related to wars?" I asked Miss Campbell.
"Well, you're asking all the right questions, Arthur," she said with a pleased grin.
"Because this feather shows up in every war that completely shifts the world — the kind that starts a new era or wipes out entire populations. That's why people started calling the progenitor of the Mythicals the Feather of Wars. If you see this thing on a battlefield, you know that war is about to become massive."
She paced slowly, feather in hand.
"And you might be wondering why it appears in every war that triggers a world-changing shift. Simple: rebirth. The birth of a new era. Humans, elves, every intelligent species — whenever this feather shows up, history is about to reset itself. A new rebirth."
After a while of Miss Campbell teaching, the class finally ended.
We walked out, exhausted.
"So what's next?" Elanor asked, dragging her feet.
"Evolvant awakening training," Seraphel said plainly. "I'll be watching you guys from the spectator area. See you later." She headed off without another word.
We entered the arena and immediately spotted Vanitar and Nyriel.
"Oh my gods, Nyriel, you don't know how tired I am— and now we have this? Ughhh," Elanor groaned, flopping down beside her.
"So, how were your classes, Vanitar?" I asked.
"Great. Not sure about Nyriel," he said, completely deadpan.
SERAPHEL MORNINGSTAR
I sat down on the spectator bench overlooking the training grounds. The arena below was visible through the reinforced glass — layers of protection stacked by Evolvanters with defensive abilities. They'd fortified it so heavily that even a Class C+ beast wouldn't be able to break it.
Then the speakers blared.
"Attention to all non-awakened students. We will be releasing a C+ class realmbeast. Good luck."
My eyes widened for a moment — just a moment — and the entire spectator area erupted in shock.
A nobleman suddenly stood up, voice cracking with fury.
"Are you insane?! A C+ class realmbeast?! My son is in there!"
The announcer didn't bother hiding the cruelty in his voice.
"This is an awakening trial, not a safe zone for the weak. Awakening must be forced. You either break through… or you don't. Good luck."
The nobleman collapsed back into his seat, defeated.
And honestly, he wasn't wrong to panic.
Releasing a C+ class realmbeast was madness.
Even a baby C-class realmbeast could reduce a city to rubble.
But a C+?
A C+ could turn a mountain the size of a country into flattened rubble with zero effort.
And Arthur was in there.
From the spectator bench, I watched Arthur gearing up. He wore lightweight armor — a smart choice for dodging a realmbeast's swings — and took up a light longsword, perfect for quick, precise strikes. Efficient. Practical. Very Arthur.
Elanor had the same lightweight armor but carried a bow. She'd probably hide in the trees and pepper the realmbeast from cover. Honestly? Solid tactic. If I had nothing but basic equipment, I'd run the same play.
Vanitar went with a dual dagger — classic hit-and-weave loadout — then grabbed a shortsword. Good range extension without sacrificing speed. Typical Vanitar: quiet, fast, and efficient.
And then… There was Nyriel.
Lightweight armor — fine.
Weapon choice? One spear. And an entire pile of bombs.
I stared.
Okay. Sure. Bombs can work for trapping a beast.
But she didn't even bring trap tools. No wires, no anchors, nothing.
She was actually planning to just—
What?
Tie a bomb cluster to the spear and chuck it at the realmbeast?
Amazing. Truly groundbreaking levels of chaos.
I don't think I've ever met a dumbass like Nyriel. It's probably all the fantasy novels she binge-reads. She must genuinely believe "throwing bombs at the problem" is a valid tactical philosophy.
More students were getting ready inside the arena. Some strapped on heavy armor, some lighter sets, everyone scrambling for whatever gear they thought would keep them alive.
Then the realmbeast was released.
The final chain ruptured, and the realmbeast rose with a scream that fractured the air. Gravity convulsed around it in violent waves, yanking students skyward before driving them into the ground with lethal precision.
The same nobleman appeared again, grabbing his son in a frantic hug.
"Oh gods—my son!"
The boy just threw a tantrum because he got eliminated first. They were both escorted out.
I forced my attention back to the battlefield.
Nyriel was throwing bombs—exactly as expected. But then she tossed one into an empty spot. The explosion pulled the beast's attention away.
A distraction.
Actually… not terrible.
Arthur appeared behind the beast in that brief opening, driving his sword straight into its back.
A rain of arrows followed, hammering the beast's eyes and face. It roared, body twisting, and then—
It transformed.
The creature ballooned into a larger, more vicious form. Its tail whipped out in a blur, knocking dozens of students across the field. One scream after another echoed before each student blinked out of existence and appeared in the spectator room to be escorted away.
Only then did I notice the bracelets on their wrists—devices that teleported them to safety once they were critically injured.
A failsafe.
The battle raged on. Gravity bent again, violently. More students were flung across the arena until only Arthur, Elanor, Vanitar, and Nyriel were left standing.
Then I saw it.
Blood.
Their bracelets were cracked—nonfunctional.
The announcer's voice suddenly shouted through the speakers:
"Shit! Their retrieval bracelets aren't working! Someone get in the arena before the students die!"
Panic stabbed through my chest.
Why aren't they getting in?
Then the announcer again—pure panic this time:
"What do you mean the door won't open?!"
The bag I was carrying — the one Arthur begged me to hide his egg in — suddenly started glowing.
I froze.
Then I pulled the egg out.
It was cracking.
Golden, radiant light poured from the fissures, bright enough to wash out the entire spectator room. The shell split open, and a phoenix burst free, its glow blinding, its cry shaking the air.
And then—
My body started glowing, too.
Then searing heat traced across my forearm — carving a symbol into my skin like molten light.
Omega 5.
The mark pulsed once, alive, before settling.
Not angelic light.
Not divine authority.
This wasn't an angel's awakening.
This was a real awakening.
An evolvant awakening.
Information flooded into my mind so fast it felt like my skull would split.
Golden Order.
That was the evolvant's name.
Level 1: Commandment of the Made Object.
The power to control man-made objects.
Level 1 was just the beginning.
If this evolvant ever reached Level 4…
It could command anything in the world.
I gasped — and then saw Arthur, Elanor, Vanitar, and Nyriel start glowing too.
They were awakening. All of them.
The realmbeast lunged toward Arthur's unresponsive body, ready to tear him apart.
But Arthur's arm moved on instinct — and a barrier erupted across his forearm, stopping the beast's strike cold.
Then a boot materialized out of thin air — Arthur's boot, the one with the lightning-bolt pattern along the side.
A split second later, Arthur's whole body snapped into existence around it, suspended in mid-air as if reality had just decided he belonged there. He didn't hesitate. His kick connected with the realmbeast's jaw, launching the monster across the entire arena like it weighed nothing.
The phoenix shrieked, blazing with power, and burst through the reinforced glass as if it were water. It seized me gently in its talons, lifting me skyward, and transformed into a larger form mid-flight, giving me room to sit on its back.
We soared toward the realmbeast. I reached out toward Arthur—
But before I could call his name, Arthur extended his hand toward me without even looking.
Like he already knew I was there.
He climbed onto the phoenix's back behind me, perfectly balanced.
He closed his golden eyes.
"Duck."
I dropped instantly, and the realmbeast's attack tore through the air where my head had been.
That wasn't instinct.
It felt like he could see the future.
We flew toward Nyriel and Elanor, swooping low enough to grab both of them and pull them onto the phoenix's back.
"Okay, where's Vanitar?" I asked, heart tightening with worry.
"He's right there." Arthur pointed toward a distant corner of the arena — so far that Vanitar looked like nothing more than a speck.
"How can you even see him? He's like… an ant," Elanor said, baffled.
"Ask later. Survive first," I snapped.
Then the realmbeast appeared in front of Vanitar — massive, towering over him — but Vanitar didn't move. He didn't even flinch.
"What—how?" Arthur breathed.
Vanitar raised his hand, placed it against the beast's incoming leg… and the entire limb disintegrated.
Not sliced.
Not cut.
Turned to dust — like centuries of aging hit it in a single second.
The beast roared, teleporting away in panic. It tried regenerating the destroyed limb, but the new flesh immediately crumbled into dust again.
Another limb began forming underneath the erased one, desperate and unstable.
Then Arthur jumped off the phoenix.
Wings burst from his back — golden, sharp, brilliant — and he shot through the air toward Vanitar. He grabbed him mid-flight and threw him onto the phoenix's back with us before landing smoothly behind me in a single beat of his wings.
"Okay, we need a plan," Arthur said, tone firm and commanding. "Nyriel — what powers do you have?"
Nyriel straightened. "I can create domains. Inside them, I can set a time checkpoint. If any of us die, we can rewind to that point. Everyone forgets the loop… except those I choose to keep their memories."
Arthur blinked. "That's—actually incredible."
Elanor squinted. "I swear I've read about a power like that in some novel before. Déjà vu or something."
Arthur ignored her and turned to Elanor. "Great. What about you?"
Elanor tapped her bow. "I can transform matter into golems. Size depends on the mass I convert — a small rock equals a small golem, a big object equals a big golem."
"Okay… now you, Arthur. How do you even have wings, see the future, and summon things?" I asked.
Arthur exhaled. "Alright. First — my eyes. They're like a blessing. But they only work when I activate my evolvant. My red eye lets me see a shadow of the future. And the golden one lets me pull information about anything or anyone."
He glanced at me. "Like you — your weakness is holy oil. It weakens you."
My chest tightened at how casually he said it.
Arthur continued, "And my evolvant itself is all about fiction. It lets me bring anything fictional into reality — basically, a lie becoming true."
"Damn, why does he always get the good stuff?" Nyriel muttered, shocked.
"My power is the ability to command things — specifically, man-made objects," I said.
Arthur nodded. "Alright. Vanitar, what about you?"
Vanitar stared blankly at the realmbeast. "To absorb the essence of existence."
We all turned to him.
"So… you just absorb things and erase them? Damn," Elanor said, eyebrows raised as she looked at him.
"Alright, here is the plan: Seraphel, you will retrieve the broken chain capable of restraining the beast and attempt to capture it. I will fly with Vanitar and throw him at the beast so he can absorb its essence. Elanor will assist you in restraining the beast for the final blow. Nyriel, your power is more defensive, so you will observe and be ready to support if needed."
We all nodded as Nyriel conjured her domain, a shimmering field spreading across the entire arena.
"Set the checkpoint here," Arthur said.
I jumped off the phoenix, my wings snapping open as I carried Elanor with me. We landed near a massive boulder, and Elanor immediately ran toward it, touching the surface. The stone shifted and twisted in seconds, transforming into a towering golem.
I flew straight to the arena's chain pillars. Controlling them with my evolvant alone felt… sluggish. So I let a bit of my angelic power slip through. It made the command easier — smoother — and the colossal chains lifted off the ground and obeyed my movement.
I sent them lashing toward the realmbeast, wrapping around its limbs and torso. Elanor's rock golem charged in right after, grabbing the beast and forcing it down.
"Nyriel — checkpoint now," Arthur ordered.
Nyriel's domain pulsed brightly, then dimmed. "There. Done."
A split second later, the beast sprouted a new tail and impaled Elanor through the chest.
Time rewound.
The scene snapped back — and this time I grabbed Elanor before the tail could reach her.
Arthur conjured an obsidian sword — the same one I remembered from five years ago — and dove at the beast. His blade slashed across its chest, cracking it open.
Vanitar didn't hesitate. He walked straight into the beast's exposed body, touched its core, and erased it — destroying its ability to control space and gravity.
Above us, the phoenix blazed brighter than ever, its light flooding the arena. It dove, wings burning with golden fire.
Arthur swung his obsidian blade at the exact moment the phoenix's flames washed over it.
The sword ignited — empowered.
He struck clean through the beast's neck.
One perfect cut.
The realmbeast collapsed in on itself, its massive body folding like it was being crushed from every direction. We all hit the ground afterward, exhausted and barely standing.
The phoenix shrank midair, its brilliant flames vanishing until only a small white mouse remained. It squeaked, scampered straight to Arthur, and sat on his lap like he was its parent.
That's when the guards stormed in.
Cold metal clasped around my wrists.
"Hey—HEY! What did we even do? You bastards, let go!" Nyriel yelled, fighting them until she was cuffed too.
They dragged us out of the arena. Eventually, we were split up, and two guards shoved me alone into an interrogation room.
I slammed my cuffs on the table.
"What did we even do?! We almost died out there, and you throw us in a cell? Are you insane?"
The guard leaned forward.
"Then explain why a phoenix hatched and flew straight to your group. Phoenixes don't hatch unless there's another phoenix nearby."
"What? Why would you think we're phoenixes?" I shot back.
"True Transformation," he said with a sneer. "We're not stupid. I didn't think a phoenix was that dumb to kidnap the king's son and transform into him? But here we are,"
He mocked me without even blinking.
"Anyway," he said, standing, "a paladin will be here soon."
Hours passed.
Finally, two people walked in.
The speed maniac.
And the powersource.
The woman sat at the table like she owned the place. Her noble clothes did nothing to soften the aura she had.
"Hello, Seraphel, right? I'm Althea." She looked me over. "You seem… surprisingly stable. Arthur and the others got hit by a ton of backlash. But you? None. Impressive."
The male paladin waved a hand. "You can go."
I blinked. "What? I thought you people can't tell if someone's a phoenix when they transform."
He laughed. "Nah. Don't worry. We're pretty sure why the phoenix hatched and went to Arthur."
He tapped his chest. "You can call me Kael."
Then he smirked.
"Besides, why would we lock an angel in jail? I'm not trying to go to Hell."
My breath caught.
"What—how did you know?"
Althea grabbed my arm and flopped it around. "Aetherborn have flexible bones. Your arm moves like a normal person's. You look more angel than aetherborn. And, well… you hid your wings."
Fantastic. They were observant.
"So what now?" I said dryly. "You gonna force me to tell you how to get to Heaven?"
Kael grinned. "Not a bad idea—"
Althea smacked him so hard he nearly fell.
"Sorry if that dumbass scared you," she said. "But I do need you to contact Heaven. We need all the help we can get. The Leviathan will appear when Arthur turns twenty."
My stomach tightened.
"And how do you even know I can contact Heaven?"
Althea crossed her arms.
"Oh, please. You didn't think we noticed you sneaking into that cave to report something to the angels? Arthur's clearly important. If Heaven lost him, they'd be furious."
Then Kael stepped forward, eyes sharp.
"Tell us how important Arthur is. And if you lie, I'll kill you right here."
"Fine! Fine!" I blurted out. Panic tightened my throat. "He's the vessel for Michael—the archangel."
"Huh?" Kael and Althea said at the same time.
"You mean Michael–Michael, the one with the flaming sword?"
Again, perfectly in sync.
They stared at each other, then looked away like it irritated them.
"So the person you were talking to in the cave… that was Michael? And you called him father?" Kael asked, eyes wide.
"Uh… actually, it was Lucifer," I said, nervous as hell.
Both of their eyes blew open.
Kael whispered, "Did we just capture the child of the literal Devil?"
Althea took a breath. "Okay… that's a surprise. So, what—Lucifer is trying to stop Michael from getting his vessel?"
"Actually, it's the opposite," I said.
Both of them stared at me like I'd spoken in another language.
"The fuck? They're mortal enemies," Kael said. "Isn't that what the Bible says?"
"Yeah, well… it's a long story."
Althea crossed her arms. "We've got time."
I exhaled. "Fine. First—everything we said earlier isn't being recorded, right?"
"Nope," Kael said. "No one's outside. No one's listening."
"Good. Then listen. When I was born, my mother hid me by masking Lucifer's grace in me so no one could detect I was his daughter. But a few years later, Michael was doing his usual Heaven patrol. My mom's concealment spell wasn't strong enough for an archangel of Michael's level. You can't hide Lucifer's grace from him. So my mother was executed for treason."
Althea's expression softened a little.
"And they didn't kill me because Lucifer's grace made me too powerful. Instead, they sent me on missions. Dangerous ones."
I took another breath.
"Then the Leviathan appeared five years ago in Heaven. Declared war. Heaven panicked. They called Lucifer for help because he and Michael are the strongest angels left—except Gabriel, who got the most grace from God. Gabriel's raw power is higher, but Michael and Lucifer are more skilled, faster, and stronger physically. But without Gabriel, Heaven was in trouble."
Kael raised a hand. "Wait—why wasn't Gabriel in the battle?"
"He disappeared when Michael and my father fought," I said. "No one's seen him since."
"Continue," Althea said.
"Lucifer refused to join the war. Said it was Heaven's problem. So Michael threatened to kill me. That forced my father to cooperate. He found me a vessel strong enough to contain me, then sent me to locate and protect the two vessels that actually mattered."
I looked at them.
"Arthur is Michael's vessel.
Vanitar is my father's."
"What—Vanitar too?" Althea said, stunned.
"Yeah. Remember the rumor? When he was a baby, a realmbeast suddenly killed itself. That wasn't a rumor. He was blessed by the Angel of Death."
Kael blinked. "But Michael and Lucifer can't just take control, right?"
"Correct. They need Arthur's and Vanitar's permission. God placed that restriction on every archangel because He didn't want them using humans to wipe out the world."
I leaned back.
"And right now? Arthur and Vanitar aren't strong enough. Their bodies can't handle an archangel yet. They have to reach the age of twenty to withstand the takeover."
Althea paced, thinking fast. "We can't just let the king's son get taken over. And Vanitar? His father's a high-status noble—someone even the king respects."
"Yeah, I know," Kael said. "And it lines up with something uglier. This feels like a coordinated strike from the Progenitor of Calamity."
He paused. Then: "When did the Leviathan attack Heaven?"
"In seven years from now," I answered.
Kael's jaw locked. "Yup. That confirms it. This was a planned move. He was trying to force Arthur into becoming Michael's vessel early."
"Why would the Leviathan want that?" I asked.
"No clue," Kael said, worry creeping in. "But the Leviathan also declared war on the Ten Kingdoms."
"What—WHAT?!" Panic hit me hard. "A coordinated attack on the Ten Kingdoms and Heaven?! Why—why would the Leviathan go after both?!"
"Calm down," Althea said, placing a steady hand on my shoulder. "We don't have all the variables yet. What matters is that we inform the king immediately. And don't worry—this stays internal. You set up a meeting with Heaven, and we'll make damn sure no one finds out you're not an Aetherborn."
Her tone was firm enough to steady my breathing.
I stepped out of the interrogation wing and headed for the dorms. When I pushed the door open, Arthur, Elanor, Vanitar, and Nyriel were sprawled around the room, looking way too relaxed for people who had almost died.
"How'd it go?" Arthur asked.
"Fine," I said, forcing a smile that probably looked more convincing than it felt.
Elanor leaned forward. "Be honest—don't you think Lady Althea and Sir Kael are perfect for each other?"
I let out a small laugh. "Yeah. They even talk in sync. It's kind of ridiculous."
They kept chatting—light, stupid, normal stuff. But behind the smile, my thoughts twisted.
Why would the Leviathan move against Heaven and the Ten Kingdoms?
Why force Arthur's awakening?
Why now?
I pushed the worry down, shook my head, and sat beside Arthur. His presence steadied me more than I liked to admit.
For a moment, at least, the chaos felt far away.