Arin barely finished complaining when a sharp clang echoed through Haven Outpost. Warriors rushed past them, bell towers ringing. Smoke curled from deeper inside the walls. Lira muttered, “Perfect. Haven’s already collapsing.” Bram corrected, “Not collapsing. Just loud.”
The mask vibrated lightly. “Host sarcasm levels rising. Recommend deep breaths.”
Arin snapped, “Recommend shutting up.”
A scout stared, confused. Arin waved. “Long story.”
They were pulled toward a stone hall shaped like a broken crown. Inside, guards argued around maps marked with tearing rifts. At the center stood Captain Seris, stern and unreadable. She eyed Arin. “So you’re the one fused to the Artifact Core.”
Arin lifted a hand. “Not by choice—”
The door slammed open.
She walked in like a spark. Nyra Vale. Eighteen, dangerous, confident. Long dark braid, silver eyes, fitted jacket, tactical skirt, glowing knives strapped to her thighs. Half the room stared; the other half pretended not to. Arin forgot how to breathe.
The mask whispered, “Warning: Host stability dropping… reason: biological distraction.”
Arin hissed, “Stop narrating my life.”
Nyra smirked. “Cute. He talks to his mask.”
Seris sighed. “Nyra. Report.”
Nyra’s smirk faded into focus. “The Reaver wasn’t wandering. Something is directing them. Something hunting him.” She pointed straight at Arin. His stomach dropped. “Why me?”
Nyra shrugged. “Because you woke a Core. When one wakes, the world shakes.”
The mask hummed. “Host influence confirmed.”
Seris laid a hand on a glowing symbol on the wall—the same mark etched on Arin’s mask. “Long ago, four Cores existed. Four Guardians maintained balance. One awakening meant change was coming.”
Nyra leaned in close. “And guess what? You just triggered the next war.”
Arin groaned. The mask added, “Host humor detected. Ineffective remedy.”
Seris clapped once. “Training ring. Now. If the Core doesn’t kill you, ignorance might.”
Nyra stretched, cracking her knuckles. “I’ll train him. I’m bored.”
Arin blinked. “YOU?”
Nyra winked. “Don’t die. It’s ugly for a first lesson.”
On the way to the ring, Arin tried not to stare at her. The mask betrayed him. “Host visual fixation detected. Enable privacy mode?”
“No,” Arin whispered.
Nyra glanced back, smirking. “I don’t need the mask to know what you’re thinking.”
They reached the ring, torches burning in a circle. Nyra stepped in first, spinning a glowing knife between her fingers. “Lesson one,” she said, expression sharpening. “Power isn’t kind. It doesn’t wait. Use it before something else uses you.”
Arin swallowed. “Any chance we start with something simple?”
The mask pulsed. “Initiating courage protocol… error.”
Nyra laughed. “Relax. I’ll go easy on you. A little.”
She raised her knife.
“Welcome to Haven, Arin,” she said. “Where your real story finally begins.”
And above them, unseen by all but the mask, a thin ripple formed in the air—like a tear struggling to open. The mask registered it first. “New anomaly detected. Approaching fast.” Arin felt the ground shift, unaware that nothing would remain normal now ever.
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