The barrier didn't explode.
It failed.
A soundless fracture rippled through the sky above BloodBorn Academy, like invisible glass cracking in slow motion. Then the pressure hit—an overwhelming presence pressing down on every ward, every sigil, every living thing inside the grounds.
Students screamed as classrooms locked down automatically. Steel shutters slammed over windows. Emergency glyphs ignited across the halls, bathing the academy in pulsing red light.
Containment Level: BLACK.
Ashen felt it before anyone said a word.
Not fear.
Recognition.
Something out there knew him.
The principal turned sharply to the officers. "Evacuate non-combatants. Activate inner sanctum protocols. Now."
One officer hesitated. "And the boy?"
The principal didn't look away from Ashen.
"He stays with me."
That alone sent a ripple of unease through the room.
The floor shuddered.
A distant impact echoed through the academy—deep, resonant, like a fist striking the bones of the building itself.
Ashen staggered, catching himself on the edge of the interrogation chair.
"What is attacking us?" he asked.
The deputy swallowed. "Not what," he said quietly. "Who."
The wall sigils flared, forming a three-dimensional projection of the academy grounds. At the outer perimeter, the defensive wards were collapsing one by one—not being forced, but unraveled, as if someone was gently pulling the right threads.
"That's surgical," the principal muttered. "They know our systems."
Another impact.
Closer.
Ashen's head snapped up.
A sharp pain lanced behind his eyes, and the world tilted.
For a split second, he saw it through someone else's vision—
A figure standing calmly outside the broken barrier. Cloaked in shadow and silver fire. Eyes burning a familiar crimson.
Blood like his.
Ashen gasped, clutching his head.
"They're here for me," he said hoarsely.
The room went dead silent.
The principal turned slowly.
"You're sure."
Ashen nodded. He didn't know how he knew—but the certainty was absolute.
"Yes."
The deputy cursed under his breath. "Sir… if that's true, then this isn't a raid."
Another impact rocked the building, closer still.
"It's a retrieval."
The door to the interrogation chamber screamed as something struck it from the other side. Obsidian glass spiderwebbed with glowing cracks but held—for now.
Containment officers rushed into formation, weapons raised.
Ashen's heart hammered, but beneath the fear was something else—an unnatural calm settling into his bones. The same calm he'd felt in the classroom. In the visions.
Like standing on the edge of something inevitable.
"Ashen," the principal said sharply, stepping closer. "Listen to me very carefully. Whatever you're feeling—do not let it take control."
Ashen laughed weakly.
"I don't feel like I'm losing control," he said.
The sigils flickered.
"I feel like I'm remembering it."
The door buckled inward.
A hand punched through the obsidian glass—pale, unmarked, dripping silver-red blood that hissed where it touched the floor sigils.
Every rune in the chamber flared in panic.
Then went dark.
The hand withdrew.
Silence.
Ashen's breath came slow and steady.
A voice echoed through the chamber, smooth and amused, vibrating directly in his chest rather than the air.
"Little heir," it said. "Did you really think they could hide you forever?"
The containment officers opened fire.
The door ceased to exist.
Not shattered—erased.
The figure stepped through the empty space left behind, cloak rippling as if caught in a wind no one else could feel. His eyes locked onto Ashen immediately.
And softened.
"There you are," the intruder said gently. "You've grown."
The principal moved instantly, placing himself between Ashen and the intruder, power flaring around him.
"You will not take him," the principal said, voice like iron. "Not again."
The intruder tilted his head.
"Take?" he repeated. "No."
His gaze slid back to Ashen.
"I've come to wake him up."
The air screamed.
Power surged through the room—wild, ancient, uncontrollable.
Ashen cried out as something inside him tore free of its restraints.
Crimson light burst from his chest, flooding the chamber, cracking walls, shattering sigils that had stood for centuries.
The intruder smiled—wide and satisfied.
"Yes," he whispered. "There it is."
The academy shook violently.
And Ashen Rowan realized—too late—that the cage hadn't been built to keep monsters out.
It had been built to keep him asleep.