The last Eclipse Beast fell with a ground-shaking thud, its obsidian hide splitting apart like charred paper. Kael Ardent stood victorious atop its corpse, his chest heaving, the hilt of his Chrono-Blade slick in his grip. The battlefield around him was a graveyard of monsters and men alike, the air thick with the stench of blood and burning ozone.  

*Finally. It's over.*  

A sharp, sudden pain erupted between his ribs.  

Kael's breath hitched. He looked down. The tip of a blade—thin, precise, *familiar*—protruded from his chest, glistening red.  

Behind him, a voice he knew too well.  

*"Sorry, Kael."*  

Rylan.  

Kael staggered forward, the sword sliding free from his back with a wet *shlick*. He turned, his vision swimming, and saw them—*all* of them—standing in a half-circle around him. Rylan, adjusting his spectacles, his usual nervous smile replaced by something colder. Seraphina, her golden bow still humming with residual light. Dain, his chains of lunar energy slithering back into his sleeves. And Liora—*Liora*, the girl he'd pulled from the ruins of her village, the one he'd called *sister*—holding a bloodstained dagger with steady hands.  

The realization struck like a second blade.  

*They planned this.*  

Seraphina stepped forward, her voice soft, almost regretful. *"You were too strong, Kael. Too unpredictable. The guild couldn't risk you."*  

Kael coughed, blood spattering his chin. His fingers twitched toward the hilt of his Chrono-Blade, but his limbs felt like lead. His Eclipse Core—the source of his power—was drained, its energy spent on killing the very beasts he'd been sent to slay.  

*"You... betrayed me?"* His voice was raw, disbelief curdling into fury.  

Liora met his gaze, her eyes hollow. *"Your Core is worth more than your loyalty."*  

The last thing Kael saw was the glint of her dagger before it plunged into his heart.  

Darkness swallowed him.  

And then—  

---

**PAIN.**  

Kael jolted upright, gasping, his hands flying to his chest. No wound. No blood. Just the thin fabric of his sleep tunic, damp with sweat.  

Sunlight streamed through the cracks in the wooden shutters, painting stripes of gold across the dusty floor of his attic room. The *Blackforge Tavern*—his home since he was eight.  

*What the hell?*  

His heart hammered against his ribs. He could still *feel* the dagger in his chest, the cold certainty of death. But here he was, alive, in a room he hadn't seen in...  

*Ten years.*  

A fist pounded on the door. *"Kael! You planning to sleep through the Awakening Ceremony or what?"*  

Old Man Harkin's voice. Gruff, impatient.  

Kael's blood turned to ice.  

*The Awakening Ceremony.*  

The day his Eclipse Core manifested.  

The day his old life began.  

And now—  

*The day I rewrite it all.*  

---

The Grand Astral Temple loomed before him, its marble spires gleaming under the twin suns. Hundreds of fifteen-year-olds crowded the courtyard, their voices a buzzing hive of excitement and fear. Kael moved through them like a ghost, his gaze sharp, scanning.  

There.  

*Rylan*, hunched over a book, his glasses sliding down his nose. *Liora*, small and quiet, clutching the hem of her robe. None of them knew him. Not yet.  

*But I know them.*  

The priest's voice boomed across the courtyard. *"Step forward, and the heavens shall judge your destiny!"*  

Last time, Kael had prayed for a Solar Core—the mark of a warrior, a protector.  

This time?  

He clenched his fists.  

*"Give me the power to break fate itself."*  

He stepped into the beam of light.  

Agony.  

It ripped through him, white-hot, like his bones were being melted and reforged. The crowd's murmurs turned to shouts. The light around him *warped*, darkening, twisting in on itself. Shadows lashed out like living things, swallowing the glow of the temple's orbs.  

The priest stumbled back, his face ashen. *"A Void Core...?"*  

But Kael knew better.  

This wasn't just any Void Core.  

It was the *Chrono-Void Core*—the same power that had once made him a legend.  

And this time, he wouldn't waste it on mercy.  

---

Garron, the son of some minor noble, blocked his path outside the temple, his meaty face twisted in a sneer. *"Look at the freak. The Church'll have your head before sundown."*  

Last time, Kael had swallowed the insult.  

This time?  

He *moved.*  

Time slowed. The world sharpened. Garron's smirk stretched like melting wax as Kael's fist connected with his jaw.  

*Crack.*  

The noble boy hit the ground like a sack of grain, blood spraying from his mouth. The crowd gasped, scrambling back.  

Kael leaned down, his voice low. *"Tell the Church I'm coming for them too."*  

As he walked away, the whispers followed him like a tide.  

But one presence stood apart.  

A hooded figure, watching from the shadows of an alley.  

*"Interesting,"* the stranger murmured. *"He's awakened it earlier this time."*  

Then they were gone—leaving only a single black feather drifting to the ground.