Rain fell in heavy sheets over Arcanis, turning its labyrinth of cobblestone streets into a network of slick, treacherous paths. Lyric darted between alleys, his hood pulled low to shield his face, though it did little to keep the cold rain from seeping through his clothes.

Every step sent pain shooting through his ribs, but he ignored it. The encounter with Kaelen still burned fresh in his mind—their precise movements, their overwhelming power. They had crushed him without breaking a sweat, and the worst part? They’d let him live.

Kaelen’s words rang in his ears, louder than the storm around him: “Your existence has set forces in motion that you can’t control.”

Lyric grit his teeth, ducking into a shadowed alcove to catch his breath. His body ached, his mind raced, and his heart pounded a rhythm of desperation. He wasn’t ready. Not for Kaelen, not for whatever forces were closing in around him.

But if he ran, he’d be giving them exactly what they wanted—a weak, frightened target.

Lyric’s hand brushed against the satchel at his side, where the cube vibrated faintly, almost as if mocking him. He hadn’t asked for this, hadn’t wanted to become the center of a game he didn’t understand. Yet here he was, bloodied and hunted, with only a half-formed plan to rely on.

He needed answers. He needed strength. But more than that, he needed time.

With a sharp breath, Lyric pushed off the wall and continued through the alleyways heading towards Lira’s shop.

The shop was a crumbling thing tucked into the heart of the lower district, its entrance marked by a faintly glowing rune above the door. Lyric knocked twice, glancing over his shoulder as he waited. The rain-soaked streets were empty, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that eyes were watching him from the shadows.

The door creaked open, revealing Lira’s sharp eyes and wary expression. “Lyric,” she said, stepping aside. “Get in before you drown.”

Lyric slipped inside, the warmth of the cluttered shop washing over him. Shelves of books, scrolls, and magical artifacts filled every corner, casting long shadows in the flickering lanternlight.

“You look like hell,” Lira said, closing the door and bolting it behind them.

“Feel like it too,” Lyric muttered, pulling back his hood. He tossed his satchel onto the nearest table and sank into a chair. His body sagged with exhaustion, but his mind refused to rest.

“What happened?” Lira asked, leaning against the wall.

Lyric reached into his satchel, pulling out the cube. Its faint glow illuminated his bruised hands as he set it on the table. “Kaelen, a Resonance mage,” he said simply.

Lira’s expression contorted in confusion. “You fought Resonance mage and survived?”

“They let me live,” Lyric replied bitterly. “Said I’d be ‘more useful alive.’ Whatever that means.”

Lira stepped closer, her gaze fixed on the cube. “And this? Is this what they’re after?”

“It’s part of it,” Lyric said, running a hand through his damp hair. “But I don’t know why. Every time I try to figure it out, it just... resists me. It’s like it’s alive.”

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Lira frowned, her fingers hovering over the cube. “Do you even know what this is?”

“Not really,” Lyric admitted. “It’s tied to my… unique body somehow. I can feel it responding to me, but it’s—”

“Unstable,” Lira finished, her voice grim.

Lyric nodded. “And now there’s a bounty on my head because of it.”

Lira’s sharp intake of breath was answer enough. She turned away, rifling through a pile of scrolls on a nearby shelf. “How much?”

“Enough to make me a priority target,” Lyric said, leaning back in the chair. “If you know something about this cube, now would be the time to share.”

Lira pulled out a worn tome and dropped it onto the table with a thud. She flipped through its pages, stopping on a faded illustration of a cube etched with runes.

“This isn’t just a relic,” she said, her tone serious. “It’s an artifact from an ancient Resonance cult. They called themselves the Echoes. Their goal was to shatter the limits of magic, to carve new paths where none existed.”

Lyric stared at the illustration, his stomach twisting. “What happened to them?”

“The Academy happened,” Lira said. “The Harmonies saw them as a threat and wiped them out. Or at least, they tried. Artifacts like this—” she gestured to the cube “—are all that’s left of their work.”

Lyric’s jaw tightened. “If the Harmonies wanted them gone, why is Kaelen after me? Aren’t they part of the same system?”

“Kaelen doesn’t care about the Harmonies,” Lira said. “They care about power. And if this thing does what I think it does, it could change everything.”

“What does it do?” Lyric pressed, his desperation rising.

Lira hesitated. “It’s a key. To what, I don’t know. But whatever it unlocks, it’s big enough to make people like Kaelen nervous. And that makes it dangerous.”

The rain had eased by the time Lyric and Lira left the shop, the cobblestone streets glistening under the pale light of dawn. Lyric kept his hood pulled low, his hand resting on the hilt of his dagger as they navigated the twisting alleys.

“Where are we going?” he asked, his voice low.

“To someone who can help,” Lira replied. “A Nexus mage named Selene. If anyone knows how to deal with Kaelen, it’s her.”

“Why would she help me?”

“She doesn’t have to,” Lira said. “But she owes me a favor, and she hates the Harmonies as much as anyone.”

Lyric didn’t respond. His thoughts were a chaotic swirl of fear and determination. He didn’t trust easily, but at this point, he didn’t have a choice.

They reached a narrow doorway at the edge of the district, its wood worn and unmarked. Lira knocked twice, the sound echoing faintly in the quiet street.

The door opened a crack, revealing a pair of piercing green eyes.

“Lira,” the woman said, her voice sharp. “You’re late.”

Lira smirked faintly. “Nice to see you too, Selene.”

Selene’s gaze shifted to Lyric, her expression hardening. “Who’s this?”

“A friend,” Lira said. “And someone who needs your help.”

Selene’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t take in strays.”

“This isn’t just anyone,” Lira insisted. “He has something the Harmonies want—and they’re willing to kill for it.”

“So?” Selene asked, her expression uncaring. “That happens to almost everyone living in this city.”

“Yes but… please Selene?” Lira begged.

Selene’s expression didn’t soften, but she stepped aside, allowing them inside.

Selene’s sanctuary was dimly lit, its walls lined with bookshelves and enchanted maps. A faint hum of magic lingered in the air, brushing against Lyric’s skin like static.

“Talk,” Selene said, crossing her arms.

Lyric hesitated, glancing at Lira. Slowly, he pulled the cube from his satchel and set it on the table in the center of the room.

Selene’s eyes widened slightly, but her expression remained guarded. “Where did you get this?”

“The Academy,” Lyric said. “It’s tied to my… resonance, but I don’t know how. And now people are trying to kill me for it.”

Selene studied the cube, her fingers brushing lightly over its surface. “Do you know anything about what you’re holding?”

“Not enough,” Lyric admitted.

Selene straightened, her gaze piercing. “This artifact is a weapon. The Echoes didn’t just want to change magic—they wanted to break it. If this cube is active, it means their work never stopped.”

Lyric’s stomach twisted. “There was a Resonance mage hunting me. What about them?”

Selene’s expression darkened. “If they’re after this, it means they’re afraid. The Harmonies thrive on control. The idea of someone disrupting that balance terrifies them.”

Lyric clenched his fists. “So what do I do?”

Selene stepped closer, her voice low. “You survive. And you figure out how to wield that thing before it kills you—or someone else does.”