Just as Thorne brought the vial to his lips, a voice sliced through the thick silence.

  "Hold it right there."

  The air turned electric. Every muscle in the group went rigid, breaths held as if the wrong exhale might set something off. Their heads snapped toward the voice.

  Sentinel strode forward, his steps even, deliberate. The flickering lights carved sharp shadows across his face, but it was his eyes—cool, calculating—that pinned them in place. His gaze swept over them, taking in every detail, before locking onto the vial in Thorne's grip.

  "What are you all doing here?" His voice was low, even, yet a thread of irritation coiled beneath it. "Shouldn't you be strategizing?"

  Cassandra swallowed, straightening instinctively. Her usual easy confidence faltered just a fraction—her shoulders too stiff, her hands tightening behind her back. "Sir, actually," she began, voice respectful yet laced with the kind of nervous energy that made her shift on her feet, "Alice brewed this illusion potion today, and we're making sure it's ready for battle. Just a final test run."

  Beside her, Lyric's fingers curled into the hem of her sleeve, her jaw setting like she was bracing for a reprimand. Alice remained uncharacteristically quiet, her hands clenching at her sides.

  Elias, who had been lounging with an air of practiced ease moments before, suddenly looked like he wanted to melt into the shadows. His usual smirk twitched at the edges but didn't quite land—his fingers tapped against his leg in a restless rhythm.

  Aiden squared his shoulders, but the way his throat bobbed slightly as he swallowed betrayed him. His arms remained folded, but his fingers pressed just a bit too tightly against his sleeves.

  Sentinel's gaze flicked to the vial again, then to Thorne. His brow furrowed slightly. "You're going to inhale it?"

  Thorne exhaled through his nose, shifting his weight, clearly aware of the silent tension pressing in on them. "Yeah. Lucky me. Experimental volunteer of the day."

  For a moment, nothing.

  Then, to everyone's shock, Sentinel's lips twitched—just barely, the ghost of something almost resembling amusement.

  "Well, come on then," he said smoothly. "Inhale it."

  Silence.

  Thorne blinked. Cassandra's posture wavered just slightly, her eyes flicking toward Sentinel like she was second-guessing his response. Lyric's fingers stilled, her grip momentarily loosening before she forced her expression neutral. Alice hesitated, her brows knitting, lips parting as if she wanted to interject—but didn't.

  Elias let out a breath that was just a little too measured, his usual confidence momentarily shaken. He shot Aiden a quick glance, as if checking whether he was the only one thrown off by this.

  Aiden, for his part, tilted his head, observing Sentinel with a calculating look—but the slight crease in his brow suggested even he hadn't expected this response.

  No reprimand. No shutdown. Just... permission?

  Thorne let out a reluctant sigh, his finger hovering over the vial. He had never expected this response from Sentinel. He glanced at Alice, who nodded slightly, and with one last look at the others, he pressed the vial to his lips.

  A slow inhale. A tingling sensation curled at the back of his throat, then settled in his chest. For a breath, nothing changed.

  Then, the world shifted.

  Thorne blinked. The edges of his vision pulsed. The trees loomed taller, their shadows stretching unnaturally. His pulse thudded in his ears. Something moved—just beyond the dim light.

  He blinked again.

  The clearing wasn't empty anymore.

  His breath hitched. His fingers twitched at his sides. His stomach lurched.

  "Uh... guys?" His voice was barely a whisper.

  Cassandra's head tilted. "What is it, Thorne?"

  The question barely registered. Thorne's gaze locked onto something just over her shoulder. His chest rose and fell too fast. The blood drained from his face.

  He lifted a trembling hand, index finger stiff as he pointed past them. "Tell me you see that."

  Lyric frowned, following his gaze into the empty night. "See what?"

  The shadows twisted. Shifted. Legs—too many legs—skittered through the darkness. A hundred gleaming eyes blinked back at him.

  Thorne's breath came in sharp, panicked gasps, and before anyone could react, he stumbled backward, his arms flailing in front of him as if trying to ward off something unseen.

  "Spiders," Thorne managed to choke out. His eyes darted in every direction, a panicked gleam in them. "Giant, giant spiders—oh hell no!"

  Aiden stepped forward, barely able to hide the twitch at the corner of his lips. "Thorne, what exactly are you seeing?"

  Thorne's hands flew to his arms, slapping at invisible creatures crawling over him. His head whipped from side to side. "They're everywhere. Oh, hell no. They're in the trees—on the ground—" He lurched sideways, nearly tripping over his own feet. "Get them off me!"

  Sentinel remained still, arms crossed, observing with the patience of a man who had seen far worse. A slow, deliberate blink. Then, a single brow lifted.

  "Giant spiders, you say?"

  The tiniest shift at the corner of his mouth—a breath away from amusement. "I thought you were made of sterner stuff, Thorne."

  His voice was maddeningly calm. "Focus. They're not real."

  But Thorne wasn't listening. His pupils were blown wide, his chest heaving. He clawed at his sleeves, his entire body tensed as though preparing to bolt. "They're on me! Get them off!"

  His voice cracked with raw panic.

  Elias stood among them, arms crossed, a slow, knowing grin stretching across his face. "Fascinating. So the potion manifests your worst fears... and projects them into your reality."

  Lyric cocked an eyebrow, lips twitching. "So if I took it, I'd probably see... a giant empty dessert plate?"

  Cassandra shot her a sharp look, but her attention quickly swung back to Thorne. Her brow knitted together. "Alright, Thorne. You're fine. Remember, none of it is real. Just focus."

  Thorne's breath hitched, his entire frame wound tight like a bowstring. His eyes, wide and unblinking, darted from one unseen horror to another. He staggered back, his chest heaving as his fingers twitched at his sides. "Tell them that!" he choked out.

  A choked-off laugh escaped Alice before she clamped a hand over her mouth, shoulders shaking. "Okay, okay. Maybe we should figure out how long this lasts..."

  Lyric nudged Cassandra with a sly grin, voice hushed. "Or we could just watch for a little longer."

  Cassandra's lips twitched before she sighed. "Tempting."

  Thorne thrashed wildly, his frantic movements growing more erratic. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple, his eyes wide and unfocused. His hands clenched into fists, nails biting into his palms as he swatted at things only he could see.

  Sentinel, however, wasn't amused. His voice cut through the moment like a blade. "Thorne. Enough. Focus. The longer you let the fear control you, the more real it becomes."

  Thorne barely seemed to register the words. A shudder wracked his frame, his breathing shallow and uneven. His limbs jerked with each flinch, his body fighting against shadows only he could see. Then—

  He froze.

  His whole body went rigid, his breath coming in jagged, broken gasps. A strangled sound crawled up his throat.

  The swarm pulsed and shifted, an undulating mass of skittering limbs and gleaming eyes. Shadows twisted unnaturally, stretching and writhing as if they were alive. The chittering grew deafening, a cacophony of clicking mandibles and scraping legs, drilling into his skull like a chorus of nightmares.

  The weight of them pressed down on him—suffocating, endless. Legs tangled around his arms, coiling like living chains, their cold, chitinous bodies slithering against his skin. His lungs locked. His vision tunneled. The world narrowed to the swarm, to the suffocating press of movement, to the overwhelming, inescapable terror closing in.

  "No… They're on me… I can feel them," he rasped, voice raw.

  A violent tremor ran through him. His stomach twisted, nausea clawing up his throat. His hands slapped at his skin, fingers clawing desperately, but there was nothing there.

  Alice stepped forward, cautious. "Thorne, listen to me. It's not real."

  His head snapped to her, but his gaze didn't land—didn't see. His stormy-gray eyes were wide, wild, darting between threats only he could perceive. His breath hitched. "I—I know that! But they're real to me."

  His body jerked as if dodging something lunging at him. His boots scraped the dirt, sending up a small cloud of dust. He stumbled, another violent shudder tearing through him.

  Cassandra's gaze flicked to Alice and Lyric, voice tight. "This is bad. If the illusion's getting stronger, then the potion might be amplifying his fear."

  Lyric's smirk faded. "Which means?"

  Elias exhaled sharply. "It means if we don't stop this soon, his mind might not recognize the difference between reality and illusion anymore."

  Aiden stepped closer, measured but firm. "Thorne. You need to fight it. Focus on our voices. Look at us."

  But Thorne wasn't hearing them anymore. His breath rattled in his chest, uneven. His whole body burned, too hot, too tight, like something inside was pushing, clawing, desperate to break free.

  Then it happened.

  A sound ripped from his throat—low, guttural, primal.

  I can't hold it back much longer... Thorne, it's too much—let me out! Let me free!

  The air shifted.

  Every muscle in Thorne's body went taut. His hands shot up, gripping his head as if trying to keep something from breaking loose. A flicker of red flashed in his irises—brief, dim, then—

  Light flared.

  Brilliant, searing red swallowed the stormy gray of his eyes, glowing like embers in a raging inferno. Heat pulsed outward, thick and charged, sending a ripple of tension through the air. The energy pouring off him wasn't just power—it was raw, untamed, unrelenting.

  They're coming, Thorne! The spiders... they're closing in! We need to fight them! Let me shift, let me burn them to the ground!

  Cassandra inhaled sharply. "His dragon."

  Alice stiffened, fingers tightening around Lyric's arm. "No way... He's never shifted into Pyrix before. Ever."

  Even Elias, for once, looked stunned. "This... This isn't just the potion. It's triggering something deep inside him."

  Thorne groaned, dropping to his knees, his fingers digging into the dirt as though anchoring himself. Heat radiated from his skin, his breath coming in uneven bursts. He could feel it—Pyrix, his dragon, pushing, tearing at the barriers he'd never realized were there.

  I AM NOT WEAK, THORNE! LET ME OUT!

  And the spiders—those monstrous, chittering abominations—remained. They skittered closer, their many eyes gleaming, venom dripping from jagged fangs.

  One giant spider lunged.

  Thorne recoiled, instincts slamming into overdrive. His vision blurred. Panic slammed into his chest like a hammer. His heart pounded so loudly he could barely hear anything else—

  Except the voice.

  Calm. Steady. Unwavering.

  "Thorne, if you shift now, you won't be able to come back," Sentinel warned. "The illusion is feeding your instincts. If Pyrix takes over, it will be nearly impossible to pull you out."

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  Thorne's hands trembled. His breath hitched. The crimson glow in his eyes wavered—fighting, resisting, hesitating.

  Internally, he gritted his teeth, fighting with everything he had.

  Pyrix... I know you're there. I feel you pushing. I get it. You want to break free. But I can't... I can't let go.

  We are one, Thorne! You don't need to hold back. You can control it, just give in! Pyrix's voice roared in his mind, full of fire and desperation.

  No. Not yet. I can't let you take over. If I do, there's no coming back. Thorne's internal voice shook, strained under the pressure. You'll burn everything. I won't let you destroy this.

  You don't understand! You're weak, Thorne! Weak to resist!

  Sentinel's voice sliced through the fog, calm yet firm. "Breathe. Feel the ground beneath you. You are not lost in this. You are Thorne. You are in control."

  Thorne clenched his fists, closing his eyes for a moment as he took a deep breath, grounding himself. I know... I can do this. I'm in control.

  You are not in control! You're suffocating—let me out! Pyrix's voice twisted with frustration and anger.

  Sentinel's voice came again, cutting like a blade. "They have no power over you. They are shadows. You are real."

  Thorne's breath shuddered, his grip on himself weakening. No... I'm not giving in. Not yet, Pyrix. Just—just listen to me! We can fight this together, but not like this.

  Pyrix growled in his mind, the feeling of fire, of uncontrolled rage, swirling. This is your chance. Fight or be consumed. Choose, Thorne!

  Thorne fought the panic surging inside him. I choose to be in control. We have to stay focused.

  He clenched his fists, forcing his body to stillness, his breath to even out. We'll do this together, but on my terms. Not yours.

  The crimson light in his eyes flickered, then steadied.

  The chittering of the spiders began to fade.

  The clicking of fangs dulled.

  The monstrous shapes blurred at the edges.

  A guttural roar ripped from his chest—a sound of defiance, of raw power, of breaking free.

  I... I can feel you, Thorne. I'm with you. We are one.

  And just like that—

  The spiders vanished.

  Silence.

  Cassandra took a slow step forward. "You okay?"

  Thorne swallowed hard, blinking rapidly. His voice, hoarse but steady, was barely above a whisper.

  "I felt a connection with Pyrix like I never have before."

  Silence stretched for a beat.

  Then Aiden exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair. "Well... that escalated."

  Elias let out a low whistle, his gaze flickering between Thorne and the others. "So, uh... turns out your illusion potion might be a little too effective."

  Alice barely heard him. Her pulse thundered in her ears as she stared at Thorne, who was hunched over, his breath ragged. His hands clenched the dirt, fingers digging in like he needed something solid to hold onto.

  "But... it did more than just mask his appearance," she murmured, her voice tight.

  Cassandra exhaled sharply, watching the way Thorne's muscles trembled, his body caught between something human and something more. "It broke something inside him. A barrier."

  Lyric's grin was immediate, bright with realization. "Which means..." His eyes gleamed with excitement. "Thorne might finally be able to shift."

  Thorne groaned, dragging a shaking hand down his face. A faint shimmer ghosted over his skin, the lingering remnants of the magic still pulsing beneath. "So, let me get this straight. We tested a potion, nearly stopped my heart, and—oh yeah—triggered my dragon form?"

  Aiden smirked. "That's what friends are for."

  Thorne shot him a glare, but the effect was ruined by the way his body still trembled, energy rolling off him in waves. "I hate you all."

  Lyric clapped him on the back, the force of it jostling him where he lay. "Yeah, yeah, but you love us too."

  Despite himself, Thorne let out a tired chuckle, the tension in his shoulders easing—just a little. "You're all the worst."

  Cassandra crossed her arms, arching a brow. "And yet, you wouldn't trade us for anything."

  Thorne sighed, shaking his head. "...Damn it. She's right."

  A ripple of shared excitement passed through the group, unspoken but tangible. The potion had done more than they'd expected.

  It had changed everything.

  And for Thorne, it was the first step toward something he never thought possible.

  His destiny.

  Sentinel, having silently observed from the edge of the group, stepped forward now, his usual stoic expression unreadable. But beneath the hardened exterior, something else lingered—something unspoken in the way his gaze settled on Thorne. A flicker of understanding.

  "Thorne." His voice cut through the lingering tension, calm but firm.

  Thorne looked up, his breath sharp and uneven, muscles locked as if his body no longer felt like his own. The crimson glow in his irises flickered, unsteady, like embers caught in an unseen wind. His fingers dug into the dirt. "I... I don't know how to control it."

  Sentinel's gaze held steady. "Then don't control it." A pause. "Command it."

  The glow in Thorne’s eyes flared.

  Inside him, the presence shifted. Pyrix. His dragon. His other half.

  I did not mean to push too hard… The voice in his mind softened, uncertain. I did not understand. A pause, then almost hesitant—Are you afraid?

  Thorne exhaled shakily. Was he?

  "You are not just a man, Thorne." Sentinel’s voice cut through the haze. "You are Dragonborn. The fire inside you is not a curse—it’s your birthright."

  Pyrix stilled at that, no longer pressing, but listening.

  "But power without control is destruction," Sentinel continued, stepping back. "And you are not ready yet."

  The voice inside him hummed low, contemplative.

  Then... I will wait, Pyrix murmured. Until you are ready.

  The warmth in his chest faded as Pyrix withdrew, retreating into silence.

  Thorne's breath steadied. His body was his own again.

  Sentinel watched him carefully, then gave a small nod. "Remember that."

  One day, the shift would come.

  And when it did, Thorne wouldn't be alone.

  Sentinel let out a slow breath, his gaze sweeping over the group before settling on Thorne. His expression remained unreadable, but something in his stance eased—a barely perceptible shift.

  "Let's go. It's time for dinner." His brow lifted slightly as he added, "Which you, especially, must need."

  Thorne hesitated, momentarily thrown, before scoffing. "Subtle."

  Cassandra smirked. "You did nearly pass out. Sir's right—food first, existential crisis later."

  A low chuckle rippled through the group, tension unwinding just a little. Thorne rolled his eyes but didn't argue. His limbs felt heavy, the last remnants of strain clinging to him like embers refusing to die out. Maybe Sentinel had a point.

  As they stepped into the dining hall, the rich scent of seared meat and freshly baked bread coiled through the air, a silent invitation to indulge. They took their seats, the rhythmic chime of cutlery against porcelain threading through the hush. Hands moved out of habit, stacking plates with abundance, yet the familiar hum of chatter—once effortless and unrestrained—remained curiously muted, as if swallowed by an unseen force. Everyone spoke in half-formed sentences, words barely breaking the stillness, as though they were all waiting for something. Watching.

  Elias finally set his fork down, his gaze sweeping over each face, lingering just a moment too long before he broke the silence. "I think we've made a lot of progress this week."

  He leaned forward, his voice lowering. "Shouldn't we shift to the arena now? We need to improve our other abilities, right?"

  Aiden's voice was a bit too loud, a spark of energy breaking through the quiet. "Yeah! If we can handle each other, the arena should be a breeze!"

  Alice, sitting beside Elias, gave a small nod, her fingers tracing the edge of her plate. "We've learned so much together. I think we're ready for the next challenge."

  Sentinel's expression darkened, the shift in his posture subtle but firm as he leaned forward, arms crossed. "You're not ready for the arena." His voice was calm, but the words hung in the air like a heavy stone.

  "What do you mean?" Elias shot back, his confusion giving way to frustration. "We've been training hard. We can handle it!"

  Cassandra, watching the rising tension, stepped in softly. "Sir, maybe they could manage some basic training there," she suggested, trying to ease the strain in Elias's voice.

  Sentinel shook his head slowly, eyes sharp. "You've made strides, but you're still learning to work as a team. The arena will only expose your weaknesses. And from what I've seen, you're not ready for that kind of pressure."

  Aiden scoffed, arms folding across his chest. "We're not weak! We've improved!"

  "Improvement isn't enough," Sentinel countered, his voice unwavering, a steady current beneath Aiden's defiance. "You need to trust each other completely. And from what I've seen, that trust is still shaky."

  Alice's voice cut in, her tone calm but insistent. "We can build that trust, but we need the arena to push us. It's part of our growth."

  Before the conversation could escalate, Elias's frustration flared, his words coming out in a rush. "We can figure it out! We need the challenge to grow."

  Thorne, sensing the growing tension, gave a crooked grin. "Maybe if we keep working together, we'll prove we're ready."

  Aiden pushed back his chair, rising smoothly to his feet. A spark of challenge flickered in his eyes as he took a deliberate step forward. "Prove it? How about we show what we’ve learned right now?"

  Thorne's grin widened. "Are you suggesting a sparring match?" he asked, a mischievous edge to his voice. "I'm in!"

  Lyric's eyes flicked between the two, exasperated. "You two are ridiculous. This isn't the time for showboating."

  "Just admit you're scared, Lyric," Aiden taunted, his voice laced with challenge.

  "Scared? Hardly. Let's see what you've got!" she shot back, her stance shifting into one of readiness.

  Cassandra sighed, then gestured toward an open area at the far end of the hall, away from the tables. "If you're going to do this, at least move somewhere with space."

  The group shifted, some hesitant, others eager. Sentinel remained seated, his gaze cold and critical as he watched them.

  Alice crossed her arms, her brow furrowing in amusement and concern. "Maybe this is a bad idea..." she murmured, watching the trio begin to circle each other.

  Aiden lunged first, his fist slicing through the air. Lyric ducked just in time, his knuckles grazing the space where her head had been. She pivoted, sweeping her foot low to force him back. Across from them, Thorne's muscles coiled before he sprang forward, his movements precise, controlled—too controlled for Aiden's liking.

  "Come on, Thorne, hit me like you mean it!" Aiden taunted, a cocky grin flashing before he dodged another blow. His breath came faster now, sweat beading at his temple.

  Thorne didn't rise to the bait. He simply moved—quiet, calculated. No wasted energy. When his fist finally shot forward, it was a steady force, and Aiden barely managed to deflect it.

  A sharp voice cut through their clash. "Focus, you two! This isn't just a game!" Lyric twisted out of reach, her expression sharp as she swatted Aiden's arm aside and countered with a palm strike.

  Aiden scoffed, shaking out his stinging wrist. "Maybe if you weren't so slow, you'd actually land a real hit!"

  Before Lyric could retort, Thorne capitalized on the distraction, sweeping Aiden's legs out from under him. Aiden hit the ground with a grunt, air rushing from his lungs.

  A loud sigh came from the kitchen doorway. "For the love of all that is holy, if you're going to break bones, do it outside. I don't need blood on my floors."

  Maris stood there, her sharp eyes landing on the sparring trio. Aiden moved with cocky speed, Thorne with quiet precision, and Lyric with exasperated efficiency as she tried to keep them both in check.

  Alice turned at the sound of her voice, relief flickering across her face. "They're just—"

  "Being idiots?" Maris finished, arching a brow.

  Lyric muttered, "Nice one," as she stepped back to catch her breath.

  Aiden shoved himself up, fire flashing in his eyes. "Alright, you wanna play like that?" He feinted left before charging at Thorne again, their movements growing sharper, more forceful.

  Alice's brows knitted together as she watched them spiral. "Guys, stop! We're supposed to be working together!"

  Neither Aiden nor Thorne broke stride. Fists struck, dodges tightened, footfalls scuffed the floor in a messy rhythm.

  Alice clenched her jaw. "If we can't trust each other here, how the hell are we supposed to survive the arena?"

  Maris snorted. "Now there's a good question." She leaned against the doorway, arms folded.

  "Though if you keep this up, I'll be spending more time patching you up than actually cooking. And trust me, you don't want to be eating my emergency rations."

  "Enough!" Sentinel's voice boomed, cutting through the chaos. He stood, arms crossed, his gaze piercing. "Look at you. This is exactly what I'm talking about. You can't work as a team if you're too busy trying to one-up each other."

  The words hit like a punch to the gut. Aiden froze mid-motion, Thorne's fist inches from his ribs. Lyric exhaled, arms dropping to her sides.

  Silence stretched between them, heavier than any blow they had exchanged.

  Cassandra's gaze flickered between the fighters before settling on Sentinel, her expression thoughtful.

  Sentinel regarded Cassandra briefly before turning his steely gaze to Elias, his expression unreadable yet heavy with meaning. His voice, cold and precise, sliced through the tense air.

  "Now tell me," he said, each word deliberate, "are you still so eager for the arena? Because if this is how you treat one another, you won’t need enemies—you’ll end up killing each other with its weapons, its tools, and the very abilities you’ve yet to master."

  The room fell silent, the weight of his words sinking in. The group exchanged glances, realization dawning upon them. They weren't ready—not yet.

  "I... I see your point," Elias finally admitted, his voice soft. "We have a lot more to learn."

  Lyric nodded, her competitive spirit subdued. "We need to trust each other first."

  Aiden crossed his arms, frustration flickering in his eyes, but he knew they couldn't deny the truth. "Fine. We'll work on it."

  Alice, trying to lighten the mood, added with a half-smile, "Maybe we should focus on dinner instead of throwing punches. I think I'd rather eat than get knocked out."

  Sentinel studied them for a moment, then relaxed slightly, sensing a shift in their dynamic. "Good. Tomorrow, we'll focus on teamwork and communication. That's where your true strength lies."

  As they returned to their seats, the earlier tension faded, replaced by a sense of resolve. They had a long journey ahead, but together, they would face whatever challenges awaited them.

  After finishing their meal, Elias, Lyric, Thorne, Aiden, and Alice left the dining hall, their quiet footsteps fading down the corridor. However, Cassandra remained seated, her fingers idly tracing the rim of her cup as she watched Sentinel, her expression thoughtful.

  "You're hard on them," Maris remarked, breaking the silence.

  Sentinel leaned back slightly, his sharp gaze resting on her. "They need it. They're not ready."

  Cassandra sighed, shaking her head. "No one is ever ready when they're thrown into something like this. But they're learning. I can see it."

  Sentinel exhaled, crossing his arms. "Learning isn't enough. The world won't give them time to figure things out. If they can't work together now, they won't survive what's coming."

  Maris tilted her head, studying him. "You don't trust them yet."

  "I trust the Eclipse Heart's choice," Sentinel corrected. "But trust alone doesn't win battles. Strength, strategy, and unity do. And right now, they lack all three."

  A small smile touched Cassandra's lips. "And yet, isn't that what makes them different? They weren't born into leadership like the elders of their clans. They fight because they have something to prove—not just to the world, but to themselves."

  Maris studied him, then let out a small chuckle. "You know, Sentinel, for all your doom and gloom, I think you actually care about them."

  Sentinel shot her a flat look. "Don't start."

  Maris grinned. "Too late."

  A low growl rumbled deep inside Sentinel, not from his mouth, but from the dragon within. Vaelthar stirred restlessly in the recesses of his mind. "You can fool others, but not me," the dragon's voice echoed, rich with centuries of wisdom and power, "You care for them. Far more than you’re willing to admit."

  Sentinel clenched his fists, feeling the pressure of Vaelthar's presence like a weight on his chest. He was used to the dragon's constant watchfulness, but at moments like these, it was hard to ignore the connection.

  "Not the same," Sentinel replied mentally, his voice taut with the effort to stay detached. "They are not my team."

  Vaelthar chuckled, a sound like rolling thunder in the distance. "They might not be your team, but they are something more."

  His voice softened, like a crackling fire. "You know it as well as I do. They have potential. You sense it. They're not yet a unit, but they could be."

  Sentinel exhaled sharply, trying to push the dragon's influence aside. But Vaelthar wasn't finished. "Your heart still echoes with their struggles. Don't pretend you're blind to it, Sentinel."

  His dragon's words weighed heavily on him, but he refused to let them shift his focus. He remained silent for a moment before Cassandra spoke, her voice quieter this time.

  "When will we know who their leader is?"

  Sentinel's gaze darkened slightly, his thoughts drifting back—a thousand years ago, when he stood among his own team of Protectors. Back then, there had been no doubt. His team had trusted him, followed him without question, because he had earned it through battle.

  But these five... their leadership would not be decided by trust alone. The Eclipse Heart would choose, not them. It would decide in the heat of battle when their true natures were revealed. That was the way it had always been.

  A deep, rumbling chuckle echoed in his mind, the voice of Vaelthar slithering through his thoughts like molten steel. "And yet you wonder, don't you? If any of them will be worthy."

  Sentinel exhaled sharply, ignoring the dragon's knowing tone.

  Vaelthar pressed on, his voice curling around Sentinel's resolve like smoke. "You fear they will not accept the choice. That they will fracture before they unite. Or is it that you fear the leader chosen will not be strong enough?"

  Sentinel's fingers tapped against the table before he finally answered aloud, "When the time comes, you'll know. And so will they."

  Cassandra studied him for a moment, sensing the unspoken worry beneath his words. Silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken thoughts.

  Vaelthar hummed in satisfaction. "You do not trust them yet."

  Sentinel clenched his jaw. "Trust is earned."

  "So is leadership," Vaelthar murmured, a dark amusement lacing his voice. "Let's see if they earn it before it's too late."

  The Eclipse Heart would choose. But whether the others would accept that choice... that remained to be seen.