The forest was quieter here.
Beyond the ridge, past the ruins and cracked plains, the world fell into an unnatural stillness. No birds. No insects. Just mist, clinging low to the earth, like breath held too long.
In the heart of that mist, two figures stood facing one another.
One wrapped in a long gray cloak, her corrupted Mark pulsing faintly beneath her sleeve.
The other cloaked not by fabric, but by the shifting folds of shadow that never seemed to leave him, Rhazir.
Luma tilted her head slightly, the faintest smile playing on her lips.
"You called for me," she said, voice barely louder than the whispering mist.
"I did," Rhazir replied, stepping forward. His hands were folded behind his back, casual, almost relaxed.
"I sent you to test him."
He let the words hang, heavy between them.
"So why didn't you?"
Luma's smile left her face.
"I could have," she said lightly. "But it wouldn't have ended well."
Rhazir's gaze sharpened, studying her.
"Because of his strength."
"Because of his resonance stage," she corrected. "He's further along than we anticipated. A direct confrontation would've been... costly."
Rhazir paused, then gave a slight nod of acknowledgment.
"Wise," he murmured.
"For now."
Rhazir's gaze drifted toward the distant horizon. "But you are right, he's stronger and his resonance stage is further along than your 'Friend', the Ember girl."
He turned back to her, studying her with the same dispassionate calculation he applied to everyone.
"But, he's not invincible."
Luma's smile widened slightly. "You're talking about Zuberi."
"No, I'm talking about Mr. Volt boy down there" he said sarcastically. "Yes, I'm referring to Zuberi!"
He paced a slow circle around her, the mist curling around his boots. He studied her for a long moment, then nodded once, then turned away, glancing toward the far-off crackle of unseen resonance deep in the land.
"Let them have him," he said. "For now. He will serve his purpose better standing at their side, until the time comes."
"And what time would that be?" Luma asked.
"When they start believing they can win," Rhazir murmured. "That's when you cut deepest."
The mist thickened as the wind shifted.
For a moment, it seemed the world itself held its breath.
Then Rhazir spoke again, voice lower, colder.
"But our focus shifts now… Zuberi isn't the priority anymore."
Luma raised an eyebrow. "Then who?"
"The Mystic Line bearer," Rhazir said simply.
Luma's expression sharpened, the playful curve of her lips hardening into something more focused.
"You think one of them has awakened?"
Rhazir nodded slowly.
"Somewhere north of here. The Mystic Line resonance is subtle, quiet and hidden. You won't feel it until you're already inside its reach."
"And what do you want me to do when I find them?"
He turned fully toward her now, his eyes gleaming faintly with shadow.
"Win them over."
Luma said nothing, waiting.
"If they can be persuaded," Rhazir continued, "they could fracture the foundation the bearers cling to. Divide their unity. Sow distrust."
"And if they refuse?" Luma asked.
Rhazir smiled thinly.
"Then you break them and take them by force."
A branch snapped far off in the mist near them, serving as a reminder that the world was not entirely empty.
Neither of them flinched when it happened.
Luma folded her arms across her chest, considering what Rhazir had just told her.
"The Mystic Line," she said thoughtfully. "They have mental based resonance. So they can Influence you and alter you're memory. What does that do for us?"
"That means control," Rhazir stated.
He stepped closer, voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper.
"With a Mystic Line bearer on our side, we don't need to destroy the others."
"We let them destroy themselves."
Luma tilted her head back, inhaling the damp air, letting the thought sink in.
A slow grin spread across her face.
"I'll find them," she said.
"And I'll bring them to their knees."
Rhazir's smile was sharper than knives.
"See that you do."
Luma turned to leave, but a thought stopped her mid-step.
Rhazir was supposed to be from the Eclipse Line, wasn't he?
If so, didn't that mean the foundation of the Eight was already fractured... with him standing here as a traitor?
She turned back to question him.
But what she saw next froze her words in her throat.
Rhazir's Mark, the one that should have been a calm, dark sigil of the Eclipse Line, shimmered briefly.
In that flicker, it changed.
The pattern warped into something twisted, corrupted, glowing a bright, sickly violet.
The corruption didn't just stain his arm, it raced up across his torso, laced his neck, crept toward his face.
And then, just as suddenly, mist coiled up his body.
When it cleared, the Mark looked normal again. His calm and controlled Eclipse Mark returned.
Luma's heart pounded once in her chest.
"Was his Mark forced onto him?" she wondered.
Or worse, had he forced it on himself?
She turned away at last, the question burning behind her eyes.
This time, as she moved into the mist, it wasn't only her mission that weighed heavy on her mind.
For the first time since her fall, Luma felt the gnaw of something deeper:
Doubt.
Doubt about Rhazir.
Doubt about herself.
Doubt about what her Mark had truly made her become.
The mist thickened again, swallowing them whole.
And when it cleared, they were both gone, two predators moving toward the future in different directions.
The trap has been set and is in full motion.
All that remains is for the prey to walk into it.