The Spire had not seen an attack like that in a century.
The tournament coliseum, once filled with cheering spectators and the excitement of academic warfare, now stood bruised and broken. Crews moved in shifts to repair shattered walls, extinguish smoldering fires, and tend to injured guests and students. But no matter how quickly the stone was patched, the damage to morale ran deeper.
Inside the infirmary, Luma sat upright on a cot, a bandage across her shoulder. Her gauntlet lay on the table beside her, flickering weakly, the core slightly scorched from overuse.
Ion sat beside her, arms folded.
"You did well," he said after a long silence. "Not perfectly. But you kept your head—and applied every law you knew."
Luma looked down. "Not enough to stop them."
"No. But enough to survive." His eyes narrowed. "And enough to make them hesitate."
Kira entered quietly with a roll of diagrams. "I analyzed the gauntlet," she said, spreading the parchment across the table. "The way you used gravitational inversion during the fall was…impressive."
"It wasn't all planned," Luma admitted.
"Even better," Kira replied. "Instinct built on physics. That's what makes a true Spire adept."
She pointed to the inner core. "But you need to adjust your discharge sync. The charge-to-mass ratio can't exceed 0.85 or it starts to destabilize—hence the sparks."
"Too much potential energy," Luma murmured. "Converted too quickly to kinetic."
"Exactly."
Meanwhile, in a hidden observatory atop the Spire, Ion and the Grandmaster convened in private.
"They were after something," Ion said. "Not just chaos."
The Grandmaster nodded. "They accessed the Obsidian Archives. The gate matrix was tampered with—but nothing was stolen."
"Or so we think," Ion muttered.
---
Across the campus, Valen nursed a bruised rib in the shadows. Miles leaned casually on the wall beside him.
"They're on edge now," Miles said, tone unreadable.
"And Luma?" Valen asked.
"She's stronger than they thought. She'll be a problem soon."
"Good." Valen smiled. "That's when we strike again."
---
Two days later, Luma, Nico, and Kira were summoned to a special chamber—one that opened only during Spire emergencies. The chamber overlooked a grand staircase leading to a shimmering arched construct: the Bridge of Laws, its glowing runes pulsing with blue light.
The Grandmaster faced them, robes flowing like currents of gravity. "This," he said, "is where true understanding begins."
He placed a palm on the gate embedded in the wall. "Every action you've taken—every decision, every failure—is tested here."
Luma's eyes widened. "Is this… the Gate of Praxis?"
Ion nodded. "The final challenge. But only when you are ready."
"But it's here already…" Luma whispered.
"It was always here," said the Grandmaster. "But now… we are at war. And the gate will open sooner than we hoped."
As night fell over the Spire, three figures stood on a distant ridge watching its lights flicker.
Kaelen crossed his arms, hood down, revealing sharp features and a scowl. "They got lucky."
Saren, expression calm and cold, watched the tower. "No. They got a taste."
Behind them, a fourth figure stepped forward—cloaked in robes darker than night, wearing a circlet of silver entropy.
"They will need more than laws to stop us," the voice said. "The age of certainty ends soon."
The storm was just beginning.