Students gathered in the dueling arena carved into a natural amphitheater of stone and crystal. The sky shimmered above, enchanted to reflect the swirling stars of the upper layers of the Cosmic Infinite.
Aeon Virelios stood quietly at the center, his school uniform perfectly in place, his expression unreadable.
Across from him, Tavin Grynth—a tall, sharp-eyed elite student—twirled his ethersteel spear with a smug grin. “Let’s see if the new ‘Virelios’ can actually stand,” he jeered. “Or if you’re just riding your family’s name.”
The crowd murmured. Some are curious. Others are skeptical.
Aeon sighed. Not from fear, but from the sheer boredom of pretense.
“Begin!”
Tavin moved instantly, glyphs glowing along his arms. His spear shattered the ground as it surged toward Aeon—blazing with conjured fire.
But Aeon simply stepped aside.
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To the audience, it looked like luck.
To Tavin, it felt like his body missed his command.
He lunged again. Aeon’s eyes flickered.
“Predictable,” he whispered.
With a single movement, Aeon raised his hand—not glowing, not flaring—and tapped Tavin’s chest with two fingers.
Tavin flew backward as if struck by a thunder god’s judgment, crashing into the barrier wall.
Silence.
Gasps followed.
The judge, stunned, finally declared, “Victor: Aeon Virelios!”
Elian and Darion exchanged wide-eyed looks.
“That… wasn’t even magic,” Elian whispered.
Lucen smirked. “He’s hiding something. And I like it.”
At the far end, Lysira Caelwyn watched, arms folded, unreadable. Her crimson eyes shimmered with curiosity.
Meanwhile, high above in the spire tower, Vael Virelios watched through a prism shard, his smile curving darkly.
“So… you’re starting to blink, brother.”
Beneath the Academy
Far below, in the sealed crypt-chambers of the academy, Zelphira Dyvra knelt before a glyph-etched sarcophagus. Dark light pulsed from its core.
“The resonance has begun,” she whispered. “His soul awakens… and so must ours.”
From the shadows stepped Myris Velstra, her voice silk and venom. “We must accelerate the ritual. Before he remembers everything.”
Post-Duel Recovery
That night, Aeon sat alone under the academy’s starlight grove. His fingertips traced a fading sigil in the air.
He was quiet. But within… echoes stirred.
“Why did you block even that technique?” a voice echoed inside him.
He didn’t reply. He didn’t need to.
The fragment within him… was watching too.
And soon, it would act.