They left at dawn.
The gate shimmered with cold light, bound with chains of sigil-forged steel. Warden Hessa stood at the threshold, armored and armed, as the six initiates gathered around her.
Kieran wore the academy's black and silver leathers, now reinforced with light plating. His breath steamed in the morning air. The others were silent.
Even Calla didn't joke.
Corvan handed them each a crystal shard—dull gray, no bigger than a coin.
"Break it if you're dying," he said. "And only then. It'll call the Warden. Once."
Kieran tucked it into his coat.
Hessa didn't give a speech. She just looked at them, one by one, like she was measuring their deaths.
"Stay sharp. Stay close. If you fall behind, I don't come back for you."
Then she turned and stepped through the gate.
The world peeled open.
---
The Forgotten World hit different when it was real.
No simulation. No limits. No safe words.
The air was heavier. The sky was veined with cracks of red and violet, as if something had once tried to claw its way through. The ground beneath their boots felt hollow—like stepping on the ribs of some buried god.
Trees here bled sap that shimmered. Birds had no wings—only mouths. The wind whispered, not with words, but memories.
Talon flinched as a low hum passed through them.
"What was that?" he asked.
"Don't listen to it," Hessa replied.
They didn't ask again.
---
By midday, they found the bones.
A field of them.
Hundreds—maybe thousands—scattered across a shallow ravine. Not clean. Not white. Fresh, like the flesh had only just rotted. Some were fused together in unnatural shapes.
"Stay on the path," Hessa said.
"There's no path," Rei muttered.
"There is if you know how to see it."
She led them through with steady steps, not once looking down.
Kieran saw something beneath the bones. Not bodies. Not stone.
Eyes.
Watching.
They passed.
---
That night, they made camp beneath a jagged cliffside.
Calla lit a fire with a flick of her fingers. Nova warded the perimeter. Selene sat apart, meditating in perfect stillness.
Talon tried to eat. Gave up halfway.
Kieran couldn't sleep.
His shadow wouldn't stay still.
---
When he rose to take watch, Hessa stood beside the cliff, arms crossed.
"You're quiet," she said.
"So are you."
"I have reasons."
He glanced at her.
She didn't elaborate.
After a moment, she spoke again. "The Forgotten World doesn't test your power. It tests your purpose. If you don't know why you fight, you'll lose. Every time."
Kieran didn't respond.
But he thought of the feather. The mirror. The boy who said: It costs everything.
Maybe he already knew why.
He just hadn't admitted it yet.