The tear above the cloaked figure widened another inch.
Violet light bled into the chamber, thin at first, then brighter, as if something immense pressed its weight against the other side. The glyphs lining the walls flared white in response, struggling to contain pressure that did not belong inside the capital.
The Prince's beast crouched low, scales grinding against stone.
"Ren," the Prince said sharply, "do not reach again."
The cloaked figure tilted their head, almost amused.
"He will," the voice said calmly. "It is what he does."
Ren's chest burned.
The third bond pulsed painfully beneath his ribs. Fang's flame licked higher along his spine. Vale's wind spiraled erratically overhead. The stone-being behind him stepped forward, silver veins glowing brighter as if anticipating another anchor.
He felt it.
That presence beyond the veil.
Cold.
Waiting.
Aware.
If he reached, it would answer.
If he pulled, it would come.
And this chamber would not survive it.
The Princess moved closer to him, wind tightening around her like an invisible mantle.
"Look at me," she said.
Ren forced his gaze away from the fracture.
Her eyes were steady, clear, unafraid.
"You do not need to answer every provocation with power," she continued. "That is what they want."
The cloaked figure's presence intensified, compressing the air until breathing felt heavy.
"Let us test that," the figure murmured.
The tear stretched wider.
Through the violet slit, something vast shifted. Not fully visible, but enough to suggest scale far beyond the chamber's walls.
Stone cracked beneath Ren's boots.
The Prince raised his hand and his summoned beast lunged, crimson eyes blazing. It slammed into the cloaked figure—
And passed through like wind through smoke.
The figure did not move.
It simply watched Ren.
"You feel them," the voice said. "They feel you. The more you hesitate, the more the veil thins."
Ren clenched his fists.
He did feel them.
Multiple presences now, faint but stirring.
If he pulled again, he would not simply bind one more beast.
He would prove the breach could widen safely around him.
And that was exactly what the Renegades wanted.
The Princess raised both hands.
Wind erupted upward, spiraling into the fracture like a tightening vortex. The tear trembled as her element pressed against it, forcing the edges to strain inward.
Sweat beaded along her brow, though her expression remained composed.
"Help her," Tarin shouted.
Mira stepped forward without hesitation, water surging from the air itself, forming a shimmering arc that reinforced the glyph ring beneath the tear.
Ren stood frozen.
His instincts screamed at him to reach.
To seize control before something worse forced its way through.
But instinct was not always wisdom.
The cloaked figure's gaze sharpened.
"Do you think restraint will save them?"
The fracture pulsed violently.
A jagged spike of violet energy tore downward, striking the chamber floor and splitting stone in a wide line. Guards outside cried out as the shockwave rippled through the tower.
The Prince moved instantly, slamming his palm against the central glyph array. Light surged upward, weaving into the Princess's wind spiral.
"Ren!" the Prince barked. "Anchor what you already have. Do not expand it."
Anchor.
Ren closed his eyes.
Instead of reaching outward, he turned inward.
He focused on Fang's steady flame.
On Vale's circulating current.
On the stone-being's grounding weight.
He pressed down on the third bond, not to call more, but to stabilize it.
The stone-being responded first.
It stepped fully before him and planted one heavy foot against the cracked floor.
Silver lines flared along its form.
The ground shuddered—then steadied.
The fracture's downward spike halted inches from Ren's chest.
The cloaked figure's posture shifted slightly.
Interest.
"You choose to close rather than open," the voice observed.
Ren forced himself to breathe evenly.
The presences beyond the veil stirred restlessly, but without his reach, they could not lock onto him.
The Princess pushed harder.
Wind screamed through the chamber, compressing the tear's edges inward. Mira's water reinforced the glowing glyphs, cooling overheated lines before they shattered.
The Prince's beast lunged again, this time not at the cloaked figure, but at the fracture itself, jaws clamping around the widening seam. Crimson light flared along its fangs.
The tear shrank by a fraction.
The cloaked figure raised one hand lazily.
Pressure intensified again.
The chamber groaned.
"You cannot hold every fracture," the voice said softly. "They are not all his doing."
That sentence landed harder than the assault.
Ren's eyes snapped open.
"What do you mean?" he demanded.
The figure's hood tilted slightly.
"You are not the origin."
The Princess stiffened.
The Prince's jaw tightened.
The cloaked figure took one slow step backward.
The tear pulsed once more—
Then began to collapse.
Not because of the Renegade's will.
But because Ren had refused to widen it.
The wind spiral tightened into a narrow column.
The Prince's beast released its grip and retreated.
Mira's water hissed as it evaporated against overheated glyphs.
With a final sharp tremor, the violet slit sealed.
Silence rushed in.
The cloaked figure remained standing in the ruined doorway.
Dust drifted through the chamber air.
Guards staggered outside, injured but alive.
The Princess lowered her hands slowly.
She looked tired now, though she tried not to show it.
"You resisted," she said quietly to Ren.
The cloaked figure chuckled.
"For now."
The air around the figure began to thin, edges blurring like smoke caught in a breeze.
Before fading completely, the voice spoke once more.
"You were never the first."
The words lingered long after the figure dissolved.
Ren stood motionless.
The Prince dismissed his beast, eyes hard.
"What does that mean?" Tarin demanded.
The Princess did not answer immediately.
She turned toward the open ceiling, where the sky beyond remained unsettled, clouds spiraling faintly as if disturbed by something distant.
"Seal the tower," the Prince ordered sharply. "No one enters or leaves without clearance."
Guards scrambled to obey.
Ren felt something colder than fear settle in his chest.
Not the threat of a fourth pull.
Not the strain of the third bond.
But the implication of that statement.
You were never the first.
He looked at the Princess.
She met his gaze, and for the first time since his arrival, uncertainty flickered across her face.
"There are records," she said slowly. "Old ones. Fragmented. They speak of gates opening before. Of anchors forming where none should."
"Then why hasn't the world already collapsed?" Mira asked.
"Perhaps it almost did," the Prince replied grimly.
A runner burst into the chamber, breath ragged.
"Your Highness," he gasped, bowing quickly. "A fracture has opened beyond the western border."
The chamber went still again.
Ren felt the third bond pulse faintly in response.
The runner continued, "It did not begin here."
The Princess closed her eyes briefly.
"When?" she asked.
"Moments ago."
The Prince looked at Ren.
Not accusing.
Assessing.
"You did not cause that one."
Ren shook his head slowly.
"No."
The Princess exhaled quietly.
"Then the Renegades were telling the truth about one thing."
The sky beyond the chamber darkened slightly as wind currents shifted unnaturally above the capital.
Ren felt it again.
Not a single presence waiting.
Multiple.
Not focused solely on him.
Focused on the world.
The Princess stepped closer.
"You are no longer just a curiosity," she said.
The Prince's voice followed, steady and cold.
"You are now part of a pattern."
Far beyond the capital walls, another violet pulse streaked across the horizon.
Not from this city.
From somewhere else entirely.
Ren looked toward the western sky.
And for the first time, he understood something far more dangerous than his own power.
The fractures were spreading.
With or without him.