After three months of grueling routine, of stretching that could break a lesser man, of the Courtyard of Insights' wind-carved stillness, of reading until Lunara watched overhead like a quiet sentinel—life at the Primordial Academy shifted.
No announcements had been made. No grand trumpets or blazing symbols in the sky. Just a quiet invitation—no, a summons—to the Grand Archives. It was sent to every first-year student, and like clockwork, they arrived one by one, entering the marble atrium with curiosity veiled by respectful silence.
Inside the towering central hall, the columns rose like the roots of a cosmic tree, spiraling into a ceiling painted with constellations. It was there that Instructor Lysandra waited, her silver robes unruffled, her expression calm but with a glint of anticipation in her eyes.
Once all had gathered, she turned and began, her voice weaving across the air, drawing in every soul present.
"You have now spent three months tempering your Wills. Day by day, hour by hour, you have sculpted the core of your being. The world may teach many things, but this foundation is one only you can lay. And now, we begin the true path. The first step toward becoming a Prime: Celestial Resonance."
A hush fell across the students. For many, it was the first time the term was uttered aloud to them. Even Gary leaned forward subtly.
"The threshold for this step is the ability to channel your Primal Origin Light into your physique. Only then does the transformation begin. You will see changes—sometimes subtle, sometimes grand—as your physique aligns with the nature of your soul and power."
She raised a hand, conjuring a shimmering illusion of varied physiques. A luminous frame—a radiant force field that glowed in a circle around a figure. Then another—an astral embodiment, celestial patterns glittering above a student's head, weaving like dancing spirits.
"A Luminous Frame gives you a radiant barrier," she said. "An Astral Embodiment, on the other hand, might summon constellations that fight alongside you. The same amount of Origin Light... can manifest with different levels of impact, depending on your inner nature."
A murmur rose in the hall. Awe. Jealousy. Determination. Cedric clenched his fist, his thoughts sharp: Constellations? Tch. If anyone's getting that, it'll be me. That brat Gary can shine in the courtyard all he wants—this is the real measure.
Lysandra let them speak for a moment, watching. Her expression softened ever so slightly.
Dawn, sitting quietly as ever beside Gary and Ingrid, raised his hand.
"Instructor," he said. "You mentioned the minimum threshold... a single ring of light. What about the maximum?"
Her eyes flicked to him, intrigued. She smiled.
"A good question. Yes—when a Prime manifests their Origin Light, the manifestation ranges from a single ring to a maximum of twelve halos. Each halo represents a phase of mastery. Like Solara herself, occupying the sky in twelve distinct phases."
Students gasped softly. Some whispered in amazement. Others looked around to see who might manifest more than one.
Dawn frowned, eyes narrowing as if reaching deeper into the fabric of meaning.
"But Solara doesn't just appear in twelve phases," he said slowly. "She also disappears in twelve phases, does she not? That would be twenty-four in total. Does that mean there are more than twelve halos, and the books simply stopped at what was recorded?"
For a second, silence reigned. Even Gary blinked. Ingrid's quill, midway through scribbling, hovered in place.
Lysandra paused. Her lips curled, genuinely pleased. Sharp. That one is sharp. Like a blade honed beyond his years.
"Indeed, the books mention only twelve halos," she said carefully. "But there is a theory, buried deep in old archives... that a Prime who truly masters all twelve halos can begin merging them. From twelve to eleven, then ten... step by step, back to one. A full cycle, like Solara herself. Few have even approached that threshold. But the path exists."
Eyes widened again. Not just from awe—but from ambition. Twelve halos... and then, perhaps something even greater? What kind of power must lie beyond?
Lysandra resumed her lecture, now describing methods of detecting one's alignment, how to resonate safely, how to avoid burning out. Her tone shifted slightly—more formal, more rehearsed.
Yet in the corner of the hall, an assistant librarian quietly dusted the same shelf three times. His wrinkled face bore none of the gleam the others held.
Void Radiance, he mused silently, glancing at Dawn. The unseen light. Not devouring, not blinding. A mystery even Lysandra doesn't suspect yet. That boy will go far—or fall far.
Meanwhile, Cedric scowled. "Twelve halos... ridiculous," he muttered under his breath. But even he couldn't stop his heart from beating faster.
Ingrid leaned over to whisper to Gary, but paused when she noticed his serious gaze.
Gary's thoughts drifted. Dawn... he always asks the right question. As if he already knows what lies beyond. But it's not just intelligence. There's something else. Something unnatural and vast, like a void hidden behind those calm eyes.
When the lecture ended, the students remained seated longer than usual, absorbing what they'd just heard. For the first time, the journey ahead didn't just seem mystical—it felt tangible.
Lysandra gave one last smile before turning.
"Now, go. And see how many halos your light can bear."
As the students slowly left, each stepped with a little more weight behind their stride. Dawn, as always, was silent. But as Gary walked beside him, he noticed something different.
It wasn't a change in posture, or gait, or voice.
It was in the way the light bent ever so slightly around Dawn.
Invisible. Unfathomable.
Void Radiance.