Across the other Six Citadels | Confidential Transmission Halls, War Rooms, and Silent Vaults
A high-priority signal pulsed through the underground nexus connecting the world's most impenetrable strongholds.
Message Origin: ASHREIGNCITADEL
Classification: Omega Clearance
Content: [ALERT] The Blackthorn Bastions have returned.
Status: CONFIRMED.
The world's pulse stopped for a beat.
Valemire Citadel – High North | The Frosted Throne Room
Elaris Chevalier , Head of Valemire, froze mid-step as her comm-sphere glowed white.
She read the words once, then again. The ancient sigil of Batch-23 glowed faintly beneath the message.
Elaris (softly):
"They were erased. Eradicated. And yet…"
Her breath formed mist in the freezing air.
Elaris:
"If the Bastions live... what else does Ashreign hide?"
Drakhal Citadel – East Volcanic Plains | Chamber of Fireglass
JorahKaelvind, fire-forged warrior and blunt strategist, slammed his fist onto the molten-glass table.
Jorah:
"Impossible. They died. They had to."
An advisor trembled.
Advisor:
"The signal is authenticated… They're back, Commander."
Jorah exhaled sharply.
Jorah:
"Then Virellan's foundations are about to shake."
Swenmere Citadel – South Forested Realm | Garden of Truth
SerinyaAvalen, young and brilliant, traced her fingers across the air-fed hologram.
Serinya:
"The Blackthorn Bastions, reborn…"
She smirked, eyes glinting.
Serinya:
"This chessboard just got interesting."
Auralhym Citadel – Cliffside Spire by the West Sea | Tower of Tempests
CassiraVeyne, Warden of Storms, watched lightning fork across the sea.
Her eyes narrowed as the words glowed against her vision lens.
Cassira:
"I've waited my whole life to hear this echo again."
She closed the message and spoke to no one:
Cassira:
"Kaelus... your silence has cost us dearly."
Veydris Citadel – Core of the World | The Veiled Bastion
In a dark room where knowledge slept in chains, DazekIvenor, veiled and ancient, read the message through ancient tech fused with memory-magic.
Dazek (whispering):
"So the Blackthorns awaken... and Virellan's cursed memory begins to stir."
He turned toward a locked vault—its seal glowing for the first time in decades.
Zephyros Citadel – Desert Expanse of Solkarin | The Obsidian Sanctum
In a palace carved from black stone and irradiated sand, CommanderTharekFernsby the Iron Strategist of Zephyros, received the encrypted transmission.
The sharp clink of metal echoed as he paused mid-training with his elite guards. The room stilled.
A golden projection flared to life in the air:
"BLACKTHORN BASTIONS: STATUS – RETURNED | LOCATION – ASHREIGN CITADEL."
Tharek's jaw tightened.
Tharek:
"They weren't supposed to exist anymore."
One of his captains stepped forward, confused.
Captain:
"But Commander… if they live, then the old codes—"
Tharek (cutting him off):
"—Then the game has already changed."
He turned to the map of the Citadels behind him, his finger dragging across the ancient seven-star formation.
Tharek:
"And we're behind."
It had been three days. Mackiah hadn't slept properly. He sat in the dim corner of his small dorm office, papers scattered, files opened, his phone kept buzzing beside him-it was Alric. His eyes were bloodshot, fixated on a half-erased map of Sector 17. The Dome still remained a mystery.
The silence was pierced only by the echo of a memory — his recent conversation with Professor Lysander.
Lysander: "You said your father told you stories... about Virellan, the clans, the great fall and rise of power. Then let me tell you something, Mackiah — he wasn't lying. Most believe it's legend, but I've spent a lifetime chasing truths hidden in dust."
Mackiah: "But the Dome... it exists, doesn't it? Sector 17's sealed archives, the ones even top officers can't access—"
Lysander: "I've never seen it myself. Only heard whispers. The Dome is not just a vault — it's a memory core of Virellan. Buried. Guarded. Forgotten intentionally, I believe. Besides it, Virellan's got it's our strong connections with our world."
Mackiah: "Then who built it? The clans?"
Lysander: "No. That's where your father's tale missed the real heart of Virellan. The Dome... and the Citadels... weren't built for the clans. They were built in spite of them. Seven Citadels — each a sentinel born to protect Virellan from its own shadows. If the clans ever turned greedy, the Citadels were meant to revolt."
Mackiah listened, stunned. The professor leaned closer, lowering his voice.
Lysander (voice quiet but sharp): "But there's more, something even the clans fear. Two names, buried deeper than history itself. Feared by Virellan and the outerworld.
Lucifer and Leviathan — the shadows behind the Silver Serpents."
Mackiah: "The Silver Serpents? Wasn't it just a misconception of the story?"
Lysander: "So did everyone else thought— until some of us started noticing... traces. Ghosts moving in wars, patterns that never matched. If the Serpents still exist, they serve only one — him."
Mackiah: "Him?"
Lysander: "Lucifer. The shadow of Aetherion Kronos. Zeus's greatest power. And Leviathan — his blade, his ghost, his shield."
Mackiah (quietly): "I've never heard about them."
Lysander: "Because no one dares. But there's something else. Something extremely powerful created by the Citadels-The Blackthorn Bastions. But even they feared Lucifer."
Mackiah: "That name… I've only heard it in passing. No files. No faces."
Lysander: "That's the point. The Blackthorn Bastions were the elite force of Ashreign. Cadets who never officially existed. They were Batch-23 — an experimental generation that vanished. Erased. But they were said to be… unmatched. If they've returned, Mackiah..."
Mackiah: "Then something terrible is coming."
Lysander: "Or has already begun."
As the memory faded, Mackiah's eyes flickered wide open. A thought clicked in his head.
Mackiah (present): "Outerworld connection... Professor said their strongest link..."
He grabbed his phone, heart racing, scanning Alric's missed calls.
Mackiah (whispers): "No way... It all connects back to Halovex."
Late evening. The city glowed dimly outside Alric's sleek, high-rise office — a sharp contrast to the storm brewing inside. Files were scattered on the table. A half-empty cup of coffee steamed beside a holographic screen still glowing with the Halovex logo. Mackiah walked in, shoulders tense, eyes sharp.
Alric (without looking up):"You finally called back. Took you long enough."
Mackiah (dryly):"Been a little busy trying to solve the unsolvable."
Alric (turns, studying him): "I figured. You look like hell."
Mackiah: "Feel worse. But I think we're onto something." He tossed a folded page on the desk.
"You were right. Halovex is dirtier than we thought."
Alric (raises a brow, opening the page): "What changed?"
Mackiah: "Professor Lysander. He doesn't know much, but he confirmed the stories my dad told me were true. About Virellan. The seven citadels. The clans. And something even deeper... he mentioned a company — one with the strongest outerworld connection to Virellan. I bet it's Halovex."
Alric (eyes narrowing): "I've called you to tell you about that. There's one report I almost missed. I found it tucked under some old contracts no one flagged."
Alric pulled up a digital report on the holo-screen.
The header glowed: "Dreadfin Fang Authorization – Maritime Trade Logistics (HALX-73 Port Codes)."
Mackiah (reading quickly): "Wait... All Halovex's ocean trade had to be cleared through Dreadfin Fang?"
Alric: "Exactly. Every sea shipment. No clearance from Dreadfin Fang? No transport, no port access. And this isn't just cargo. Some of these shipments are flagged under Sector 17 authorization."
Mackiah (stunned): "Which means... some of it came here."
Alric (quietly):"To the armory. Sector 17."
Mackiah (eyes narrowing): "Give me a sec."
He pulled out his phone and dialed.
"Eron? I need you to pull records on all weapons shipments that entered the Sector 17 armory in the last three months. Specifically: manufacturers and intermediaries. Mark anything under the Halovex or Virellan tags."
A few moments passed. Eron sent back encrypted files. Mackiah downloaded and scanned the data.
Mackiah (voice low):"There. Dracoryn Vanta — tagged on the origin of the blades and specialized firearms. And this... Vahnera Claws. The explosives."
Alric: "That's three clans. What about Aetherion Kronos?"
Mackiah (pauses, jaw clenched): "No trace. Yet."
Alric: "But this isn't coincidence. Dreadfin Fang, Vahnera Claws, Dracoryn Vanta — all involved with Halovex. Supplying Sector 17. Someone's funding something massive."
Mackiah (firmly):"Or covering something up."
Alric walked toward the window, arms crossed, eyes on the far-off skyline.
Alric: "My company is clean, Mackiah. Avenar was built to expose these very systems. But if Halovex is already in this deep…"
Mackiah: "Then we've only seen the tip of what Virellan's buried."
He turned toward the exit, then stopped."I need your help."
Alric (turning):"Name it."
Mackiah: "Help me trace the Dome. I'll find the route. You crack the encryption."
Alric (grinning slightly):"You sure you're ready for what you'll find?"
Mackiah (grimly):"No. But I need to know."
A Shadowed Room in the Outerworld | Unknown Location
Joker, reclines in a plush leather chair, watched the flurry unfold through a glass screen of encrypted Citadel signals. His grin widened.
He typed a message with slow, deliberate keystrokes. The encryption sigil was laced with old Aetherion code — enough to bypass any Citadel block.
To: Zayden Drevarin
From: x‿x
Subject: To the Devil Reborn
"You always had a flair for the dramatic, my old friend."
"Impressed by your swift moves at Ashreign. You still know how to set the stage."
"The world saw the Blackthorn Bastions vanish. Now they'll watch as the seven Citadels unite again — but this time... not to protect Virellan."
"This time, we take it back. All of it."
"Let the phoenix burn."
He hit send, his grin curling cruelly.
Sylvenia- Sector 17 Hidden Corridors
The restricted archive wing of Sector 17. Hidden behind layers of biometric locks and ancient doors long untouched. Dust clinged to the air. Silence breathed like a ghost through steel corridors.
Eron (whispering):
"You're insane, you know that?"
Mackiah (half-smirking):
"You keep saying that. Yet here you are."
They stopped at a rusted panel embedded into the wall. Eron keyed in a code. A small pulse of energy responded — a shimmer — before the panel slided away, revealing a scanner.
Eron:
"Put your hand here. You're still in the system."
Mackiah (pressing his hand):
"Let's hope they haven't wiped me yet."
A soft click. The vault hissed open. Inside — shadows, shelves, relics of old reports, memory chips, crumbling scrolls. A place where the past was sent to be forgotten.
Eron (uneasy):
"This place hasn't been touched in years."
Mackiah:
"Exactly why we're here."
They began searching — dragging old terminals online, flipping through stacks of sealed records, chasing any trace of the Dome, the Citadels, Virellan's secrets.
Nothing.
Eron (frustrated):
"There's nothing here, Mack. Nothing on the Dome. Nothing on Leviathan. Not even a damn footnote on Lucifer."
Mackiah (rubbing his temples):
"No... No, there has to be something. Professor Lysander mentioned them — the Seven Citadels, the Blackthorn Bastions… it's real."
He leaned against a shelf. It creaked dangerously. Eron moved forward to help—
CRASH!
A domino of shelves collapseed in the back row. Mackiah stumbled backward — and as the dust cleared — one shelf revealed a hidden recess built into the wall, sealed and untouched.
Eron (wide-eyed):
"You've got to be kidding me."
Mackiah (slowly reaching):
"Or I just got lucky."
Inside sat a thick, ancient book. Its cover was darkened leather etched with a faded gold sigil — seven spires surrounding a crown of flame.
Title: "The Legend of Virellan"
Mackiah (softly):
"This is it…"
He flipped through the pages. It detailed the history of the four great clans: AetherionKronos, Vahnera Claws, Dreadfin Fang, and Dracoryn Vanta. Their rise. Their leaders. The wars. The uneasy peace.
But there's nothing — not a word — on Lucifer. On Leviathan. No Silver Serpents. No Citadels. No Batch-23. No BlackthornBastions.
Mackiah (frowning):
"Why would Lysander mention names that don't exist in this? This book predates the clans' official rise. It should have everything."
Eron (quietly):
"Or maybe it was rewritten. Erased."
Mackiah:
"Someone wanted them gone. From memory. From history."
He flipped to the last chapter. A torn page. A single surviving line at the bottom.
"When even the clans forget who forged the flame, the citadels shall remember. And when chaos walks again, the Bastions shall rise."
Mackiah (under his breath):
"Bastions... They were real."
Mackiah clutched the book, eyes burning with determination — just as distant alarms echo faintly through the lower halls.
Inner Fortress, Aetherion Kronos Stronghold | Midnight | Virellan]
The skies above AetherionKronos crackled with silent tension, a veil of stars blinking behind fast-moving clouds. The citadel's obsidian towers, laced with shimmering silver veins, gleamed like a sleeping dragon's scales under moonlight.
But tonight, the silence shattered.
A low, rumbling boom echoed across the valley as explosions erupted near the fortress gates. Guards rushed to respond, but it was already too late — the intruders had breached the first line.
[Zeus's War Chamber]
KaelusVelzareth Valkherion, known to the underworld as Zeus, stood calmly before a grand map of Virellan, his eyes narrowed. The flames from the nearby brazier flickered in his golden irises.
A Knight stormed in, wounded.
"My Lord—They're inside! The outer guard has fallen!"
Kaelus didn't flinch. He turned slowly, eyes sharp.
Kaelus (Zeus):
"Let them come."
[Courtyard – Aetherion Fort]
A group of enemies, cloaked in dark tech-armor and wielding advanced plasma weapons, stormed deeper into the citadel. With deadly precision, they tore through Aetherion's guards, inching closer to the throne chamber.
Suddenly—
A piercing whistle echoed through the wind.
The air grew cold.
From the shadows atop the western rampart, a single knight stepped forward. Clad in armor of blackened silver, etched with an emblem few remembered — a phoenix engulfed in falling stars — the knight drew a long-bladed weapon glowing with a faint blue hue.
No name. No warning. Just death.
In a blur, the knight descended upon the intruders.
Five enemies fell in five seconds.
The rest hesitated, confusion spreading.
A second whistle.
This time, not one, but seven more knights emerged — silent, swift, and deadly. They weren't just soldiers. They were specters of war.
What followed was a massacre.
By the time the smoke cleared, not a single enemy remained standing.
[Interior – Throne Antechamber]
The first knight approached the throne chamber. Another knight jogged up behind him, removing their helmet — it was a young soldier, face bloodied but eyes burning with awe.
Knight:
"All clear, Captain. Not a trace left. But… these weren't from any known clan. Their tech was different. Experimental. Do you think it was one of the three?"
Knight Captain (voice deep, calm):
"No. Not them."
"This wasn't a warning from the clans. This was something else."
A long silence.
Then the knight looked at the grand doors behind which Zeus stood, untouched.
Knight Captain (softly):
"And something tells me… it won't be the last."
[Location: Ashreign Citadel – Grand Courtyard | Early Morning Mist]
Ashreign stirred restlessly beneath a grey, brooding sky. The once chaotic training grounds now buzzed with speculation, fear, and barely contained awe.
For three days, the cadets had whispered legends.
"They're real…"
"The Blackthorn Bastions…"
"But they were erased—how are they here?"
The names that once felt like bedtime stories now passed between trembling lips. Tales of monsters in human skin, of cadets who vanished with entire squads, of legends shaped in fire and erased in silence.
And now — they were walking these halls.
Still, Zayden and Darian kept low profiles. Aside from the unmasking during the siege, their presence was kept under wraps. Only the citadel's command, the other six citadels, and a few high-ranking names knew the truth.
The others? They were told nothing.
[Training Grounds – Dawn]
The cadets gathered under SergeantCalvin's glare. But even his iron presence couldn't silence the tension.
Suddenly, the alert horn blared. A crisp, sharp blast that wasn't routine.
Everyone turned toward the skybridge.
A line of glistening figures marched into the citadel.
Their armor shimmered with opalescent steel. Black-plated pauldrons bore the emblem of the Phoenix Crown — the mark of AetherionKnights.
Gasps broke out. Whispers turned into stunned silence.
"No way—"
"The Aetherion Knights? At our citadel?"
"They serve Zeus himself…!"
At the front strode a knight cloaked in a long mantle of night-blue, trimmed in gold. The sheer command in her stride made even Calvin's posture shift.
Calvin whispered:
"…That's not just any knight."
The lead knight halted at the center of the courtyard. Her voice rang out.
"I seek the Blackthorn Bastions."
The cadets froze.
No one moved. Until two familiar figures walked out from the shadows of the eastern hallway.
Zayden and Darian, no longer pretending. Their presence shifted the air.
The cadets stared in disbelief as the lead knight stepped forward… and removed her helmet.
Purple curls fell in waves. Her piercing violet eyes burned like wildfire.
Evanora Watkins. The Grand Sovereign Knight of Aetherion.
A living legend cloaked in silver-black armor and unyielding grace. Towering in both presence and skill, she commanded the AetherionKnights—the most elite force in all of Virellan—with unwavering authority and a chilling calm. Beneath her regal helm lied a mind as sharp as her blade and a past veiled in sacrifice and loyalty.
The dream of the battlefield. The storm of a thousand blades. Stoic yet fiercely protective, her rare appearance at AshreignCitadel sent ripples of awe and fear alike—especially among the cadets who grew up hearing tales of her brilliance and brutality. Her presence signals one thing: when Evanora walks into a room, war is never far behind.
--
She smiled.
Evanora:
"You look worse than I remember, Zay."
Zayden smirked faintly, rolling his eyes.
Zayden:
"And you still make dramatic entrances."
Darian grinned.
"I thought we told you to retire from crashing institutions."
The cadets looked on, dumbfounded. The banter, the familiarity—was real.
Evanora:
"This isn't a social call. We were attacked last night at the Aetherion Base. They were after Kaelus."
Her smile vanished, replaced by a hardened steel gaze.
Evanora:
"We need reinforcements. And we need your Citadel's support."
Calvin stepped forward, still stunned.
"You… You want Ashreign's cadets to fight for the Aetherion Knights?"
Evanora nodded.
"Not all. Just the best. The threat is growing. It's no longer just political or personal—it's existential."
She turned to Zayden and Darian.
Evanora:
"You're not just legends anymore. You're needed."
Zayden exchanged a glance with Darian.
And then — he nodded.