P52 - Where The Darkness Spirals Upward

Location: Aura City - Rings' Grounds:

The courtyard was still. The team stood amidst the vanishing corpses of the wraiths, embers flickering across the ash-covered tiles.

Jira's hand tightened around his spear.

"No emblem. No crest. Nothing about these things makes sense," he muttered.

"They weren't human. Not anymore," Thess added. "Maybe not ever."

Vailen twirled one of his daggers and sheathed it with a soft click. "Yeah, yeah, scary stuff. But we're not gonna find answers just standing in a cemetery of ghosts, right-?"

Mirel exhaled hard. "We should burn this whole place."

"No," Jira cut in. "We report this. If Aurae is being targeted, the High Council will need to prepare. And we need to know why this sector was hit."

Thess lowered her bow. "There's a tower at the end of the Hollow Ring. Archive records list it as an old wind observatory. If there's anything left--"

"I'll go," Vailen interrupted. "Fast feet, fast fingers. You know how I do~"

"You'll die," Mirel snapped. "I'll come too."

Vailen smirked. "Aww, you do care."

"No," she grinned darkly. "I just wanna be the one who kills you if you screw it up."

The doors creaked open as wind howled through the broken spires. The air inside buzzed like static, and runes flickered along the stone floor.

"Feels... wrong," Vailen muttered, blades ready.

"It's a trap," Mirel growled. "But let's see who set it."

They moved swiftly, clearing the empty floors. At the top chamber, a massive orb spun slowly, powered by wind magic from centuries ago. Vailen stepped close.

A crack formed in the orb--then burst open.

From within, a voice echoed through the room.

"To the ones who survive the Voidwinds... You are invited."

Mirel stepped back, weapon up. "What the hell?"

"Prove your strength. The Arena awaits."

The voice faded. The orb shattered into dust.

Left behind, a sigil pulsed faintly on the floor: a winged symbol encircling the number 781.

Thess held the sigil in her hand. "So... we were watched."

Jira nodded slowly. "Again... Judged."

"They think we're ready for the Arena Games," Mirel added, tone unreadable.

Vailen glanced around at his squad--the loyal leader, the calculating sniper, the vengeful glaive-wielder.

And himself, the flirty twerp with a dagger and something to prove.

"Well-" he said, stretching his arms. "Guess the gods just can't resist a good show."

Thess raised an eyebrow. "Don't get cocky. We'll be fighting more than ghosts next time."

"I wouldn't have it any other way~"

Jira finally smiled, just a little. "Let's represent Aurae well. For those lost in the wind."

The four turned toward the floating skyline of their city, the Arena Games now looming just two months away.

And above them, storm clouds gathered--not from weather... but from fate.