As night fully descended upon Somnium, the kingdom's many faces turned toward slumber and secrets. In High Veil, the White Throne stood empty, its occupant now conferring with advisors about the troubling reports from the Empire's northern front. In the sprawling neighborhoods of Low Noctis, merchants counted the day's earnings while the Night Lotus Caravan's agents traded in information more valuable than gold. Beyond the capital, in towns like Greenfield, weary travelers found rest in modest inns, unaware of the currents of power flowing around them.

Yet beneath this veneer of ordinary life, ancient forces stirred. In the mountains far to the north, a single fragment of Luna Minora—the smaller half of Erath's broken moon—broke free and plummeted toward the world below. Those who witnessed its fiery descent across the night sky clutched at their Embrace amulets and whispered prayers, for falling moon-shards had long been omens of upheaval.

The fragment struck the earth miles from any settlement, its impact felt only by the creatures of the wild and a solitary figure who had been watching the skies with unusual interest. This observer, wrapped in a cloak that concealed all but a pair of mismatched eyes—one hazel, one faintly glowing blue—approached the impact site with purpose rather than fear.

And far beyond Somnium's borders, across the endless crimson fields of the Empire, the Hel Portal pulsed with an intensity not seen in a century. Within its swirling depths, shapes moved with increasing agitation, as if responding to some silent call. The Rift Watchers at Fort Dauntless doubled their patrols, their uneasy glances betraying what their reports did not: something was changing.

The pieces were moving into place, the players taking their positions. Six years of relative peace had lulled many into complacency, but the currents of destiny waited for no one—not for kings in their floating palaces, not for priests in their grand churches, not for seekers pursuing their humble quests. The red daemon's appearance was but the first note in a symphony of chaos that would soon engulf them all.

In Somnium, the mana lights flickered briefly throughout the kingdom, as if responding to an unseen hand. Few noticed, and fewer still understood what it might portend. But for those with eyes to see and hearts to feel, the message was clear:

The War in Heaven had never truly ended. It had merely been waiting to begin again.