The morning before the festival, the Academy sky was crimson.
An omen.
Students whispered of explosions near the northern tower.
The security wards flickered for the first time in centuries.
Kael stood on the balcony, staring at his trembling hands.
The memories he didn't own were flooding in again—
flashes of battles, of Yukino crying, of a thousand deaths that weren't his.
> "Make it stop," he whispered.
Yukino ran up the stairs, breathless.
> "Kael! The Academy's under attack!"
He turned—eyes no longer golden, but red, flickering with chaotic mana.
> "Stay away, Yukino. Please… before I become him again."
The sky split open.
From within the clouds descended Kael II, cloaked in black, sword burning with violet flame.
The cycle had begun again.