At dawn, the sky split.
Not with thunder. Not with fire. But with silence.
Across the mortal world, the air grew heavy with something ancient. Invisible winds surged through cities and forests, oceans and deserts, whispering through the bones of the earth itself.
And then it happened.
Everyone felt it.
In Eldrin Hollow, Arin jolted upright in bed. His heart raced—not in fear, but in rhythm with something deeper. The hum in his chest surged, louder than ever before. He gasped as the air around him grew thick—almost tangible, like a warm mist he could feel inside his body.
His breath slowed on its own.
And for a moment, he could hear his own heartbeat echo through the world.
A golden pulse rolled across the hills, faint but radiant, vanishing as quickly as it came. It left no damage. But everything had changed.
Downstairs, his father shouted in surprise—vials shaking on shelves, herbs glowing faintly in their jars.
Across the Dominion, it was the same.
In marketplaces, children screamed and laughed as light flickered in their palms.
In temples, holy men collapsed, weeping in awe as divine relics shattered—not broken, but emptied, their power stripped away by something older than prayer.
And in the mountains of the north, a reclusive monk opened his eyes for the first time in years and whispered:
"The Breath has returned."
At North Hollow Academy, students gathered in confusion. Master Helbram stood stunned in the courtyard, watching as birds circled the sky in perfect spirals, as if guided by invisible currents.
Sera looked at Arin. "Do you… feel it too?"
Arin nodded, slowly. "It's like the world is… alive."
And it was.
The air now shimmered faintly to those who could see it. Spiritual energy—pure, unformed, and everywhere. A power that had not touched the mortal realm in eons.
The gods watched, helpless.
They had not granted this.
They could not stop this.
And far in the hidden spaces between fate and time, the one who had moved the threads—the unseen judge—remained silent.
But its decision had been made.
Let them rise.
[One Year Later]
The world had changed.
No longer did nobles rule with coin alone. No longer were warriors the greatest protectors. Cultivators had risen—those who could draw breath from the world itself and turn it into strength.
What began in secret was now everywhere.
Kingdoms scrambled to respond.
Some feared it. Others sought to weaponize it. But in time, all were forced to accept a new truth:
This power belonged to everyone.
Schools began to form.
Some were old monasteries, reopened with new purpose. Others were built from nothing—humble academies rising in the middle of farmlands and ruined cities.
And in the heart of the Kael Dominion, where the first surge was felt most strongly, a new school rose on the edge of Eldrin Hollow.
The Vale Ascension School.
Arin Vale was among its first students.
He was no prodigy. No hidden genius. But he was steady. Curious. And the strange humming in his chest had never left him.
It had only grown stronger.
And far above, unseen by gods and mortals alike, a single thread glowed gold.
Balance, for now, was holding.
But soon, the trials would begin.