-Alexia-
"Begin," Gideon commanded.
The word struck the chamber like a hammer. The fox in the cage let out a thin, terrified whine, its small body pressed against the iron bars. My heart lurched. I already knew what Gideon intended-he'd made that clear the moment they dragged the cage in-but knowing didn't stop the instinctive, frantic search for a way to save it.
Every breath I took tasted like cold metal and fear.
"Alexia," Gideon drawled as he sat back in his throne, settling himself as if this were a performance for his amusement, "there is no saving it. That is the lesson. You will stand here and watch the creature die. And my Scions"-he gestured lazily- "will demonstrate precisely what we are capable of."
A ripple of movement filled the room. One by one, the Scions rose from their seats. Shadows coiled at their feet, power gathering like a storm preparing to strike. Their eyes gleamed-hungry, anticipatory.
My pulse hammered, but my face stayed calm.
Think. Don't flare. Don't give them what they want.
The fox whimpered again, and something inside me cracked, hot and sharp. Not enough to break my suppression - but enough to remind me that I was not powerless. Not yet.
I forced myself to keep watching, cataloguing every motion, every symbol, every shift in the air. If I couldn't save the fox, I could at least learn what the Scions were about to reveal-and how to turn it against them.
The Scions began to chant. Latin. Old and jagged, scraping down my spine like broken glass.
"Obscuritas, viniculum, fractum-"
The shadows deepened. The ceiling itself seemed to pulse. The fox trembled so violently that the cage rattled; the ritual vortex formed above it like a funnel of darkness, hungry for something living.
My suppressed light spasmed in terror and fury.
And then -
The magic snapped.
Not loudly. Not dramatically.
Just wrong.
A single, sharp vibration shuddered down from the ceiling.
A metallic crack, thin but undeniable, echoed through the stone.
The chant faltered.
The vortex flickered.
The shadows recoiled as though struck.
Cassia's mist-like body flickered unnaturally. "What was that?" she hissed.
Another tremor pulsed downward - stronger this time - making dust rain from the vaulted ceiling.
My heart leapt. Heat flared through my bond: fire, speed, shadow, and wolf.
They were above me.
They weren't beneath the chamber.
They weren't lost in the labyrinth.
They had made it inside the fortress - and they were cutting it down.
But the Scions didn't understand that. Not yet.
Theron's skeletal fingers twitched. "The upper lattice is destabilizing," he rasped. "The ward anchors are collapsing."
"That's impossible," Cassia snapped, though fear laced her voice. "The wards regenerate instantly."
"Unless someone threaded them," murmured the scarred elemental Scion. "A subtle breach. Precisely targeted."
A thread.
A seam.
A surgical opening.
Jasper.
Another muted shockwave rolled through the ceiling - so close the torches flickered. Cracks spidered the stone overhead.
The Scions recoiled in unison.
Gideon stood abruptly, his cloak snapping behind him. "Reinforce the upper wards!" he barked. "Someone is breaching the outer shell."
Shadows spiraled upward as dozens of hands lifted at once, their formation shifting into a defensive circle. Dark magic rushed toward the ceiling, patching the cracks, sealing seams, repairing the damage-
But too slow.
Far too slow.
Something slammed into the ard from above - a precise, focused strike followed by a violent pulse of fire that rippled through the stones like a heartbeat.
Finn.
It had to be.
The ceiling groaned.
A second strike hit.
Shadows buckled.
Stone cracked.
The Scions staggered, their ritual unraveling.
I felt it in the bond - closer, closer, close-
My breath caught.
They were here—all of them.
Jasper. Finn. Soren. Asher. And even Zeus.
Not lost.
Not too late.
Not broken.
And Gideon and the Scions still had no idea what was coming.
This wasn't just an interruption.
This was the first fracture in Gideon's perfect, controlled world. And the cracks were spreading.