The Grand Observatory of the Sovereign Council remained cloaked in oppressive silence. The crystalline projections hovering above the circular obsidian table flickered intermittently, residual pulses of mana causing faint ripples across their surfaces. The spectacle of Rui's Third Awakening had left an indelible mark on everyone present.
High Sovereign Kaelith Drayen's silver hair shimmered faintly under the runic glow of the observatory, his sharp eyes fixed on the stabilized image of Rui lying motionless in the surgical chamber far below. His expression remained unreadable, though his clenched jaw betrayed the storm of calculations running through his mind.
Lady Elyra Valeheart, poised yet visibly unsettled, stared at the faintly glowing runes embedded into Rui's closed eyes on the projection. Her usually calm demeanor was marred by a subtle frown, her fingers tapping absently against the cold obsidian surface of the council table.
Kovar, ever enigmatic and detached, leaned back in his chair. His oversized cranial dome glimmered faintly, streams of data cascading across its surface. Yet even his unsettling calm seemed brittle, as though he were barely holding back a torrent of thoughts clawing to be spoken aloud.
It was Fenrir who broke the silence, his gravelly voice cutting through the tension like a blade.
"Whatever that was… it wasn't normal." His piercing eyes glowed faintly beneath heavy brows. His tone wasn't one of awe, but analysis—sharp, pragmatic. "That boy… Rui… he's something none of us accounted for. What we witnessed transcends every known theory of Third Awakenings."
Kaelith's eyes shifted towards Fenrir, narrowing ever so slightly. "And yet, you speak with such certainty, Fenrir. Explain yourself."
Fenrir uncrossed his arms, his hulking frame leaning forward slightly as he placed both hands on the edge of the table. "His core was stable before the ocular infusion began. Every reading was well within parameters, and his neural pathways adapted better than even Kovar could've predicted. But during the final phase, something—some catalyst—caused an instantaneous synchronization between his core, his spine, and his ocular pathways."
Elyra's voice, sharp and precise, cut in. "Synchronization at that level shouldn't be possible. Not without external interference. Kovar, was there any anomaly in the procedure?"
All eyes turned to Kovar, whose pale face was lit by the faint glow of scrolling data. His lips twitched into a faint, almost unhinged smile. "Anomaly? Oh yes, Lady Elyra, an anomaly indeed. His core… it didn't just synchronize. It adapted. It adjusted to the mana influx during the ocular phase, absorbing and stabilizing the excess surge without destabilizing the neural pathways."
Kovar leaned closer to the display, his thin fingers tracing a glowing rune that hovered mid-air. "His core isn't just stronger; it's smarter. It reacted as though it were alive—a sentient organ responding to external stimuli. I've never seen anything like it."
A cold silence followed his words, broken only by the faint hum of mana conduits running along the walls of the observatory.
Kaelith's voice carried a chilling finality. "What we've witnessed isn't just an anomaly—it's unprecedented. The consequences of this… will ripple far beyond this chamber. Elyra, ensure this information remains locked. Not even the lower councilors are to hear a whisper of what happened here today."
Elyra inclined her head in acknowledgment, her azure robes pooling like liquid sapphire around her chair.
Fenrir's gaze remained locked on Rui's still form. His predatory instincts told him one thing—Rui wasn't just powerful. He was dangerous. Not in the way a weapon was dangerous, but in the way an unstable cosmic force was. He was potential personified, and if guided incorrectly, he could bring ruin to everything they had built.
Kaelith continued, his sharp voice pulling everyone's attention back to him. "Kovar, I want full diagnostics on Rui's condition every hour. No deviation. And ensure the chamber's defenses are fully operational. No one—not even those within this council—are permitted to enter without my explicit approval."
Kovar's unsettling smile widened slightly, his glass dome glowing faintly. "Oh, I'll be watching him very, very closely, High Sovereign."
Kaelith's silver gaze swept across the room. "The boy will remain under constant observation. But let it be clear—this power, whatever it is, belongs to the council now. No one else must learn of it. If knowledge of this leaks, we may lose control of something far beyond our comprehension."
Elyra spoke again, her voice soft but firm. "What do we do if… if he cannot control this power?"
Kaelith's answer was immediate. "Then we control it for him."
The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, and the council chamber was plunged back into silence.
In the Surgical Chamber
Rui remained unconscious, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. The faint glow of runes within his eyes pulsed softly, each flicker synchronized with the faint beat of his core. The air around him felt heavy, almost sacred, as though the mana itself recognized something profound had just occurred.
Kovar stood beside the operating platform, his pale hands hovering just above Rui's head. Streams of data flooded the displays surrounding him, each one analyzing Rui's neural activity, core stability, and mana circulation.
His voice, though quiet, carried weight. "Extraordinary. Even while unconscious, his mana circulates through his neural pathways flawlessly. There's no disruption, no turbulence. It's as though his body was designed for this."
The chamber's ambient light dimmed slightly as the mana arrays slowly powered down. Rui's body was beginning its natural healing process, aided by the surgical apparatus still monitoring his vitals.
Kovar sighed and adjusted his gloves. "Sleep well, Rui. When you awaken… you'll see a world no one else can."
The Grand Observatory – Hours Later
The council chamber had thinned out, leaving only Kaelith, Elyra, and Fenrir in quiet contemplation. The crystalline projections showed Rui resting peacefully in the surgical chamber below.
Fenrir broke the silence. "We can't keep him here indefinitely. The longer he remains within these walls, the more questions people will ask. Powerful people."
Kaelith's gaze didn't waver from the projection. "Agreed. But moving him now would be dangerous. His body is still adapting. Until Kovar gives the green light, Rui stays under observation."
Elyra folded her arms across her chest. "And after that? What then? Do we… release him?"
Kaelith's silver eyes finally met Elyra's sharp gaze. "That depends on Rui himself. If he can wield this power responsibly, we'll guide him. If not…"
The unspoken end of his sentence hung heavily in the air.
Fenrir's voice softened slightly, though the edge remained. "This boy… Rui… I don't know if we should fear him or admire him."
Elyra sighed, her shoulders sagging slightly. "Perhaps both."
The faint hum of mana conduits filled the silence as the three most powerful figures on the Central Continent looked down at the sleeping boy—one who had just shattered their understanding of what was possible.
The Surgical Chamber – Two Days Later
The soft glow of crystals cast faint shadows across the sterile chamber. Rui remained motionless on the operating table, though his breathing had grown steadier, and faint color had returned to his cheeks. His silver eyes remained shut, though the faint glow of the runes beneath his eyelids pulsed slowly, as if in rhythm with his heart.
Kovar stood at the edge of the platform, his thin fingers dancing across floating displays.
"Neural conductivity remains stable. Mana flow has normalized. Recovery is proceeding… unusually well."
He adjusted a dial, causing faint runic circles to flicker briefly across Rui's chest.
"And yet… he's still adapting. His body isn't done integrating the changes."
He turned his head slightly, glancing at the reinforced doorway where Fenrir leaned against the frame, arms crossed.
"Two more days, perhaps three. Then, he'll awaken."
Fenrir said nothing, his sharp gaze fixed on Rui's sleeping face.
Kovar smirked faintly. "It must be humbling, Fenrir, to stand before something you can neither predict nor control."
Fenrir didn't respond, but his narrowed eyes told Kovar enough.
As the chamber fell back into silence, Rui's chest rose and fell steadily, his body continuing to adapt, evolve, and strengthen with every passing second.
Far above, in the Grand Observatory, the Sovereign Council watched.
They were waiting.
And so was the world.