Rielun's POV:
The Haven was dying.
The guardians felt it at the same time — a shudder through the floor, a dimming of the runes, a pulse that skipped like a failing heartbeat. The air thinned. The walls flickered. Black sap dripped from cracks that hadn't been there moments before.
Aeris was the first to react, wind curling around his ankles in a nervous spiral. "The pressure's changing. The Haven's… breathing wrong."
Elias traced a sigil in the air, the lines trembling. "It's not breathing. It's collapsing."
Sylas pressed a hand to the floor. Vines curled from his fingertips, then wilted instantly. His breath caught. "The Haven's heart is weakening."
Noctis's wings snapped open, shadows curling protectively around Rielun's legs. "Then we move. Now."
But Rowan stepped forward, staff glowing faintly. "We need to understand what the First Guardian meant."
The words hung in the air like a spark in dry grass.
The phrase echoed between them.
Aeris scoffed, wind flicking his hair. "It's a trap. He's manipulating Rielun."
Elias shook his head sharply. "No. The phrasing was wrong. He didn't say my heart. He said the heart."
Sylas's vines curled tighter around his wrist. "The Haven has a heart. The Hollow has a heart. One of them is missing."
Noctis's shadows flared. "I don't care whose heart it is. Rielun isn't going near him again."
Rowan's jaw tightened. "We don't have a choice."
Rielun stood in the center of them, silent, overwhelmed, the echoes of the memory still clinging to him like frost.
The group wasn't fighting.
Not yet.
But the fractures were showing.
A tremor ripped through the chamber.
The floor split.
The runes dimmed.
The ceiling groaned.
Aeris blink‑stepped forward, wind cushioning falling debris. "It's getting worse!"
Elias slammed a ward into the ground, a circle of light stabilizing the floor beneath them. "This won't hold long!"
Sylas's vines shot outward, reinforcing the ward with living roots. "The Hollow is pushing through."
Noctis stepped closer to Rielun, wings curving around him. "Stay behind me."
Rowan planted his staff, light flaring. "Everyone brace!"
The Haven screamed.
A crack tore open in the far wall.
Black sap poured through.
And a voice seeped into the chamber.
"Found you"
The Hollow.
Aeris's wind surged, forming a barrier of slicing gusts.
Elias's sigils flared, burning away the sap that touched the floor.
Sylas's vines wrapped around Rielun's arms, grounding him.
Noctis's shadows curled like claws, ready to strike.
Rowan stepped in front of all of them, staff blazing with protective light.
For a moment — a single, fragile moment — they moved in perfect unison.
A circle.
A shield.
A family forged in fear and devotion.
The Hollow pressed harder.
The Haven trembled.
And then—
A doorway flickered into existence behind them.
Unstable.
Glitching.
Half‑formed.
Aeris felt it first. "There's a trial forming."
Elias's eyes widened. "It's incomplete. It's forcing itself open."
Sylas's vines recoiled. "It's tied to the heart."
Rowan's grip tightened on his staff. "We have to go."
Noctis hissed softly. "Not all of us."
The doorway pulsed.
A voice — not the Hollow, not the Haven — whispered through the chamber.
"Choose who enters with you."
The guardians froze.
The Haven flickered.
The Hollow pressed closer.
And Rielun realized:
The next trial would only allow two guardians to enter.