The summoning chamber remained sealed, long after the others had departed. Sora stood alone before the dormant altar, the crystal array now nothing more than inert glass and etched stone. The lingering mana in the air had thinned, yet an unfamiliar pressure persisted—subtle, disquieting.
She exhaled slowly and turned away. No point lingering; staring at the aftermath wouldn't solve what had occurred.
**Atlantis Empire — Imperial Hall**
Twin rows of pillars rose toward the vaulted ceiling, each engraved with sigils of sovereignty and protection. Light filtered through high stained-glass windows, casting prismatic hues across the polished floor. At the far end of the hall, upon an elevated dais, sat the Reigning Emperor of Atlantis—robed in deep cerulean and gold, a crown of mana-forged crystal resting lightly upon his brow.
Sora approached alone. Her footsteps echoed softly as she stopped at the prescribed distance and bowed with impeccable form. "Your Majesty, The summoning ritual has concluded."
The emperor regarded her in silence. "And?"
Sora straightened. "Two otherworlders were successfully summoned. One has received a sacred blessing of extraordinary caliber. The priests have already designated him a Hero."
The Emperor offered a faint nod. "That is within expectation."
"The other," Sora hesitated, "registered no measurable blessing during the ritual."
The Emperor's gaze sharpened, granting her his full attention. "No blessing?" His brows drew together, a subtle crease forming between them.
"Explain," he commanded.
"The summoning circle activated as intended. The crystal acknowledged the second individual… and then fell silent. There was no rejection, no backlash—only absence."
Silence spread through the imperial hall.
The emperor's fingers tapped once against the armrest of his throne, a slow, deliberate sound. "An acknowledged summon without a recorded blessing," he murmured. "That is… irregular."
Sora inclined her head slightly. "Yes, Your Majesty."
He leaned forward, gaze distant as he weighed unseen implications. "At times like these," the emperor said, "the priesthood is prone to haste. Labels are applied too quickly. Judgments made before understanding." His eyes, sharp and assessing, returned to Sora. "I will not have the fate of the Empire decided by assumptions."
"When they are ready," he continued, "bring both otherworlders to me."
Sora slanted herself into a formal bow. "As you command, Your Majesty."
The emperor turned his gaze toward the stained-glass windows, watching the shifting light as if seeking answers beyond them. "Until then," he added, "keep them under observation. Discreetly."
"Understood." With that, she turned and departed the imperial hall, her footsteps once more echoing across the polished floor—leaving behind a ruler who, for the first time since the ritual began, wore an expression of unmistakable concern.
Only when she passed beyond the doors did her grip tighten briefly at her side.
-
— Guest Wing –
Sora's assigned chamber was modest by imperial standards, yet far from spartan. Soft mana-lamps illuminated the room, and silken curtains stirred gently, responding to her presence. She closed the door behind her and immediately activated the privacy ward embedded within the walls.
*Click.* The room sealed itself.
Sora withdrew a small, circular artifact no larger than her palm. Its surface was carved with concentric rings of holy script, each etched so finely it bordered on invisible. A Divine Communion Relic.
She pressed her thumb to its center. Mana flowed. The relic warmed, and then light bloomed outward, forming a translucent projection of a robed figure seated upon a high-backed throne of alabaster. Even through a mere communication conduit, their presence was unmistakable.
"Sora." A voice addressed her. Calm and Gentle.
"Your Holiness," She immediately knelt in ceremony. "I report the completion of the Atlantis super-grade mortal summoning ritual."
The projected figure inclined her head slightly. "Proceed."
"Two otherworlders were summoned. One received a sacred blessing of exceptional ability. The priests have already declared him a Hero."
"I see."
"The second… did not."
Silence followed, the kind that weighed upon the soul. "Oh? Eloborate."
"The summoning circle selected him. The crystal acknowledged him. Then the reaction collapsed. No blessing was detected. No connection was established."
"…That is indeed concerning," the Pope murmured. The voice was soft, contemplative, yet did nothing to ease the tightness in Sora's chest.
She chose silence for a moment, her shoulders trembling. "Master…" Sora's voice faltered despite her effort to keep it steady. She lowered her head until her forehead nearly touched the floor. "Grandmaster Aurelia… she is truly gone."
The light of the projection flickered faintly.
"I understood that the ritual demanded a price." Sora continued, fingers curling against the floor. "But seeing the altar extinguish—feeling her presence vanish so completely…I—"
Her breath hitched. "She smiled at me to the very end. As if this was merely another duty fulfilled."
The pressure in the room softened. The Pope closed her eyes, a quiet sigh escaping her lips—heavy forlorn memories, "Sora," she said gently, her voice no longer carrying the distant authority of a divine seat, but the warmth of a woman speaking to a grieving disciple. "Your grandmaster stood at the very edge of her lifespan."
Sora's head lifted slightly, eyes glistening with faint tears.
"She knew," the Pope continued. "Better than anyone. Her body could no longer sustain high-order miracles; her mana circuits were deteriorating. Even had she lived, she would have faded quietly, unable to act when humanity needed her most."
"Thus" The Pope's gaze expressed a weary resolution. "She chose this."
"The Mortal Hero Summoning ritual—especially one capable of calling exceptional individuals—requires an astronomical cost. Even the Atlantis imperial family, with all its accumulated mana conduits, could not have borne it without severe losses."
"Your grandmaster understood that," Steading her voice, the pope continued. "And so she offered what remained of herself—her strength, her life force, her existence—to bridge the dimensional boundary between mortal and magical."
Sora clenched her fists.
"She devoted her entire life to warding off threats to humanity. Demons. Apostles. Calamities that never reached the annals because she stood in their way." A faint smile touched the Pope's lips. "Do you truly believe she would regret sacrificing herself to give humanity a fighting chance against what is to come?"
Sora shook her head, tears finally slipping free. "No."
"Good, Then do not grieve her as a loss." She leaned forward slightly on her alabaster throne "Mourn her as one who chose her ending—and found it worthy."
Sora pressed her forehead to the floor. "I will remember." She whispered "I won't let it be wasted."
The Pope watched her in silence—eyes reflecting pride, sorrow, and something perilously close to relief. "Rise,"
"Your grandmaster entrusted the future to those she summoned—and to you." The projection's glow steadied. "And Sora, observe the second otherworlder carefully."
Sora lifted her gaze.
"An acknowledged summon without a blessing is not an absence," the Pope added, her voice sharpening a cadence "It is a deviation."
"And deviations," she concluded, "are often where the balance of the world begins to shift."
The words lingered in the sealed chamber, heavy with implication.
"Yes, Your Holiness. I will observe him closely."
The Pope lingered. Her gaze drifted, unfocused—not on Sora, but on something far beyond the limits of the communion relic. Invisible threads seemed to pull at her attention, calculations unfolding in silence.
"At present," she said at last, "the Empire will attempt to categorize him. They will call him an anomaly. A failure. Or worse—an inconvenience,"
"They will observe him only from the outside. Only as a variable to be managed." Her eyes returned to Sora. "That is insufficient."
"You wish for me to—"
"I want the second otherworlder brought to the Divine Sanctum," the Pope enunciated. "As an object of direct observation for a certain period under my authority."
Sora's breath caught. "The Sanctum? So soon?"
"Yes," the Pope replied without hesitation. "Before the World adjusts. Before the Empire decides what role he should play."
"I understand," Sora said at last, bowing her head once more.
"You will not act unilaterally," the Pope added. "This remains Atlantis' summoning affair. Their pride will not tolerate even the appearance of appropriation."
"I will proceed through formal channels," Sora answered without delay. "I will request imperial consent under the pretext of interfaith cooperation and post-summoning evaluation."
"Uh-huh. May Divine Light guide you."
The projection dimmed, the glow folded inward and vanished. The chamber returned to stillness.
Sora remained kneeling for a brief moment longer. Then she rose. Her expression was composed, serene, saintess-perfect. Yet beneath that flawless surface, her resolve had quietly hardened.