The government-issued hab-block Nephis led me to stood on the ragged edge of the quarantine district.
High enough that the smog thinned into a gray haze.
Low enough that the distant rumble of cargo drones still shook the air as they hauled supplies along the outer walls.
The building looked like it had been stitched together from leftover concrete and blind optimism—gray panels patched with mismatched alloy plates, reinforced windows already spiderwebbed with stress fractures.
Floor 47. Apartment 4709.
Nephis swiped her newly issued Awakened ID chip across the door panel.
[HISS—CLICK]
The lock protested, slow and reluctant, like it hadn't expected to be used again.
Inside was bare.
One narrow bed.
A fold-out table.
A kitchenette barely capable of boiling water.
One window overlooking a skeletal skyline of towers and drones.
No decorations.
No personal touches.
Just utility.
She'd claimed it less than an hour after Awakening.
Efficient.
Ruthless.
She gestured toward the bed.
"Sit. You're bleeding through your shirt."
I looked down.
The shallow gash across my ribs—left by the chains in the Temple—had reopened during the walk. Dark blood soaked the cheap fabric.
I peeled the shirt off and dropped it to the floor.
The wound was already knitting—pink flesh crawling together faster than any hospital tech could manage.
Still burned like hell.
Nephis didn't flinch.
She retrieved a standard med-kit from beneath the sink: antiseptic patches, bandages, one stim shot.
"Hold still."
She worked in silence.
Her fingers were careful. Gentle.
Strange, considering she could turn cities to ash if she wanted to.
When she pressed the antiseptic pad against the cut—
[HISS—]
"Sorry," she murmured.
The first hint of softness I'd heard from her.
"Don't be," I said. "I've had worse."
She finished bandaging, then sat across from me on the lone chair.
The table between us felt like a battlefield.
"Now," she said calmly.
"Talk."
I exhaled slowly.
The bond thrummed—a quiet reminder that lies weren't an option.
Not real ones.
"I'm not from this world," I said. "Not exactly. Where I came from… your story already happened. Or was happening. I read it. Chapter by chapter."
Her expression didn't change.
But the flames behind her eyes brightened.
"You're saying you saw the future."
"No," I said. "I saw a story. A very long one. And I was stupid enough to get attached."
She leaned forward.
"Prove it."
I met her gaze.
"Changing Nephis. True name: Changing Star. Aspect: [Flame of Divinity]. Flaw: [Clear Conscience]—you can't stop until the Spell is destroyed. No matter the cost. You burned your cousin to ash because he stood in your way. You walked into the Crimson Spire smiling… and walked out carrying the weight of a massacre you ordered. You'll try to kill the Sovereigns."
I paused.
"And you might succeed. Or die trying."
[VENTILATION HUM—LOUD IN SILENCE]
Nephis didn't blink.
Then, quietly—
"Cassie told me someone would come. Someone who knew too much. She said his words would be sharp as glass… and twice as fragile."
My stomach tightened.
"She's already here."
Nephis nodded once.
"Three days ago. Her First Nightmare ended before mine. She was waiting when I left processing. Blind—but she saw me before I saw her."
Her gaze drifted slightly.
"She said: Don't trust the shadow beside the flame. But don't kill him either. He's part of the path."
I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.
"That's Cassie."
Nephis tilted her head.
"You know her too."
"Better than most," I said. "She saves a lot of people. And… she's the reason some die."
[KNOCK—SOFT]
Both of us tensed.
Nephis was on her feet instantly, hand moving toward a weapon that hadn't manifested yet.
The bond pulsed—alert, but not alarmed.
Another knock.
Then a voice.
Quiet. Fragile.
Unmistakable.
"It's me."
Nephis crossed the room and opened the door.
Cassie stood in the hallway.
Smaller than I'd imagined. Pale skin. White-blonde hair cut unevenly, like she'd done it herself with a blade. Her eyes were milky and unfocused—
Yet her head turned directly toward me the instant the door opened.
She wore government fatigues. A thin silver bracelet gleamed on her wrist.
Tracking chip.
She didn't smile.
"Hello, Levi."
My name sounded heavier coming from her.
Nephis stepped aside.
Cassie entered—slow, measured steps, one hand brushing the wall for balance she didn't truly need.
She stopped a meter away.
"You smell like ash and iron," she said. "And something older. Something that doesn't belong."
"Guilty."
She tilted her head, listening.
"The threads are tighter now. Yours. Hers. Mine. They're pulling toward a fourth."
My chest tightened.
"He's close. Too close."
Sunny.
Nephis shifted, watchful.
Cassie continued, voice soft and merciless.
"I saw you before you arrived. In the dark. You were holding a chain that wasn't a chain. It was a story. You tried to cut it. You couldn't."
She reached out.
Her fingers brushed my bandaged ribs—light as a whisper.
"So you wrapped it around your own wrist instead."
Cold crept through me.
"That's… accurate."
Her hand lingered.
"You're going to hurt her," she whispered. "Not on purpose. But you will."
The bond flared.
Nephis took a step forward.
Cassie turned to her.
"And you're going to hurt him. Because that's what fire does."
Silence fell—thick, heavy.
Then Cassie smiled.
Small. Sad. Almost kind.
"But if you don't hurt each other," she said softly, "the Spell wins anyway."
She stepped back.
"Tomorrow the government assigns cohorts. Training. Gates. They want us useful."
Nephis spoke, calm and final.
"We won't be."
Cassie's smile faded.
"No. You won't. But the fourth one… he might try to run. He's very good at running."
She turned to me.
"Find him before he finds you."
She moved to the door.
Paused.
"One more thing."
We waited.
"In the vision… there was a dragon. Not a creature. A shadow wearing dragon skin."
Her blind eyes lifted.
"It was wrapped around you like armor."
A breath.
"And it was crying."
She left.
[DOOR CLICK—FINAL]
Nephis and I stood in silence.
Finally—
"Tomorrow," she said.
I nodded.
"Tomorrow we start breaking fate. Or it breaks us."
Outside, the city lights flickered on beneath the darkening sky.
Somewhere out there, a boy named Sunny was cursing his luck—unaware that three threads were already reaching for him.
And deeper still—
In the dark between worlds—
A dragon-shaped shadow stirred.
Waiting.
Crying.
Ready to be claimed.
The bond between Nephis and me pulsed once.
Steady.
Warm.
Unbreakable.
We were bound.
Now we just had to decide—
What we were bound for.