The eyes within the fracture dilated slowly. They were neither crimson nor golden, nor did they possess any color that could be described. It was as though they were never created to be seen in the first place. Yet, despite that... no one could tear their gaze away from them.
A staggering weight swept over the perimeter. It was not a magical pressure, nor a murderous aura, but a realization closely resembling what a minuscule creature might feel upon suddenly comprehending the sheer scale of the sky above.
Some instructors stepped backward involuntarily. Others froze dead in their tracks. As for the enigmatic entity... it remained silent. For the very first time since its manifestation, it was absolutely, completely still.
Nir hoisted his head, looking directly into those eyes. He felt no fear, but he experienced something else—something he had not encountered since the awakening of his power.
A sensation... that someone was looking down upon him exactly as he used to look down upon others. As if he had suddenly become the weaker side of the equation.
Prolonged moments ticked by. Then, the eyes shifted, locking onto him alone. Upon him. Out of everyone present.
Only then did the voice echo once more.
> "So..."
>
An absolute stillness reigned.
> "You are the one who awakened the Vestige."
>
Lyra's eyes widened. As for the instructors, their faces turned deathly pale—because the voice did not emanate from the fracture. It manifested directly inside their minds, as though distance no longer held any meaning for its owner.
Nir finally countered:
"And who might you be?"
For a single second, it felt as if the entire world was holding its breath, awaiting the reply. Then came the response:
> "A small question."
> "For a small existence."
>
The words carried no contempt, and that was precisely what made them far more terrifying. It was absolute reality—a fact uttered entirely devoid of emotion.
Nir's eyes narrowed slightly. For the first time in a very long while, he felt a genuine desire to prove otherwise. But before he could speak, the enigmatic entity moved, interposing itself before him. It stood directly between Nir and the fracture, staring straight into the eyes.
"The time has not yet come," the entity said.
Silence ensued. Then, for the first time, the eyes shifted away from Nir and focused on the entity. Long seconds passed—seconds that stretched like agonizing years.
Then, the voice returned:
> "You..."
> "Still exist."
>
A faint, ghostly smile played upon the entity's face, though it harbored no joy whatsoever.
"And you are still watching."
At that moment, the fracture convulsed violently. The heavens themselves appeared to crack, and a colossal silhouette began to coalesce behind the darkness. It did not manifest in its entirety—only a minute fraction of it. Yet that fraction alone was grander than all the palaces, towers, and walls combined.
Lyra gasped. One of the instructors dropped to his knees.
Nir, however, stared in silence, for he had discerned something horrifying: what appeared before him was not the physical body, but merely a minute fragment. A shadow. A reflection. A mere vestige.
The original entity was still elsewhere—in a realm far beyond the reaches of imagination.
Then, the voice returned for the final time:
> "Continue to grow."
>
Silence fell.
> "And when you arrive..."
>
The words paused for a heartbeat, then concluded:
> "We shall meet."
>
The moment the sentence ended, the fracture snapped shut. The eyes vanished, the crushing pressure evaporated, and the sky returned to its original state.
Yet, no one moved. No one spoke. For everyone felt one undeniable truth: the world they knew was no longer the center of the story.
Nir was no longer approaching the apex of this world. Instead, he was nearing the gates of something far greater—something that knew no mercy, and cared nothing for who lived or who faded into oblivion.
In the heavy silence of the night, Nir raised his head toward the heavens. And deep within his soul, a new question was born—a question far more dangerous than anything that had preceded it:
*If this was merely a vestige... what does the original look like?*