As Leo and Solren walked through the heart of the Vanguard Castle, the atmosphere shifted. Hundreds of architects filled the space—some locked in sparring matches that shook the foundations, others hunched over maps of the Hollow, and others simply recovering from the front lines.

  But as they entered the Main Hall, a heavy silence rippled through the crowd. Eyes turned. Whispers followed.

  They weren't just looking at a ten-year-old in a uniform; they were looking at the son of the strongest duo to ever manipulate Aether: Azrion Vaelith, the Beacon of Oblivion, and Elara, the Grace of Oblivion. The marks his parents had left on the world were still etched into the minds of every architect present. Leo felt the weight of it—disdain from some, wide-eyed admiration from others, and a grudging, bitter respect from the veterans.

  Leo ignored them all. His gaze remained fixed forward, his black eyes like twin voids that swallowed the attention of the room without giving anything back.

  “Come,” Solren said, his voice cutting through the tension. “This way. The Five are waiting.”

  They entered a private chamber off the Great Hall. Five architects stood waiting. Kaelith was among them, her hand resting habitually on her hilt.

  “Greetings,” Solren announced, his energy filling the room. “The team is assembled, isn’t that right?”

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  Kaelith nodded, her expression professional. “Indeed. But we aren’t a team until we’ve traded names. We can’t have ourselves clashing in the field without knowing whose back we’re covering. I’ll start: Kaelith, the Spire’s Blade. Oblivion Spire.”

  Solren stepped forward next, grinning. “Solren, the Dawnspear of the Zenith Crown.”

  One by one, the others stood.

  A man with a bored, nonchalant expression spoke first. “Alric. The Gate’s Keeper. I hail from the Verdant Gate.” His voice suggested he’d rather be anywhere else, yet his presence felt rooted and immovable.

  “Vaelor,” a man with a voice as sharp and cold as a winter gale followed. “The Azure Singularity, of the Abyssal Vault.” He didn't move a muscle, but the air around him felt heavy, as if the gravity in his immediate vicinity was slightly off-kilter.

  “Lyren!” a girl shouted, her excitement almost vibrating off the walls. “Princess of Sequence, at your service! Chronos Anchor!”

  The final member was a girl who looked closer to Leo’s age than the others. She spoke with a low-pitched, iron-clad confidence that made the older architects blink. “Nanai. Ethereal Reach.”

  Then, the room went still as the "King" spoke.

  “Leo. Oblivion Spire Architect.”

  His voice was a flat, freezing calm. The others waited for the rest—the "Beacon's Child," the "Heir of Oblivion"—but the silence that followed was absolute. Leo offered no titles, no legacy. His expression was a wall of obsidian that made any further questions die in their throats.

  Kaelith broke the silence, her tone shifting to business. “Enough formality. We have a mission to complete.”

  With that, the Seven began to move, their footsteps echoing in unison as they headed toward the edge of the Vanguard's protection and into the unknown.