Kaelen moved like someone who had walked through too many battles to still care how loud her boots were.
She led the way down a winding ravine carved through soft stone, flanked by trees with bark like bone and leaves that whispered in a language I couldn't quite understand. We hadn't spoken much since we left the Echo Temple behind. Just short exchanges. Watching. Listening.
She kept glancing at me, like trying to decide if I was worth talking to yet.
"I heard the LAW hit you hard," she said finally, not turning around.
"It nearly broke me."
"Good." She grinned. "Means it found something inside worth testing."
I didn't answer. The ground ahead opened into a wide basin filled with broken columns and scattered ruins—less elegant than the temple, more like something forgotten on purpose. And in the center, a campfire burned blue.
Around it were three people.
Called.
I could feel their LAW marks even before I saw them—each humming with a different frequency. The air around them shimmered like tension before a storm.
Kaelen raised her voice. "He's here."
One of the figures stood. A tall, bald man with burn scars across his jaw and neck. His arms were covered in etched runes, some still glowing faintly. His presence was solid. Unshakable.
He nodded once. "Gerson, right? I'm Dren. LAW: Ember Seal. I anchor combustion traits. Contain, compress, detonate."
He extended a hand like it was an old ritual. I shook it—his grip was like iron warmed by flame.
The second figure, a pale woman with long black hair and a veil covering her eyes, didn't rise.
"Don't mind her," Kaelen said. "That's Vei. LAW: Silence Thread. She hears things most of us can't. Doesn't talk much. You'll get used to it."
Vei inclined her head slightly. I felt her studying me. Not with sight. With sense.
The last was a boy. Barely sixteen by the look of him. He was smiling awkwardly, eyes too wide and too curious.
"Uh, I'm Tel. LAW: Shard Bloom. I... make stuff grow. From memory." He held up his hand. A flower bloomed in his palm—my favorite flower, from Earth.
I froze. "How did you—"
"Sorry," he said quickly. "It just came out. Your memory was loud."
Kaelen chuckled. "Yeah, he's weird. But useful."
Dren motioned for us all to sit. "We need to brief him. The convergence is accelerating. The Veil opening wasn't just a sign—it was a signal."
I sat down slowly. My LAW mark pulsed again—faster now. Responding to theirs. We were like chords in the same song, building toward something larger.
"What kind of signal?" I asked.
Kaelen looked serious for the first time. "A war. Not between kingdoms. Between fates. The LAW doesn't choose idly. And it doesn't just evolve people anymore."
Dren added, "It evolves the world with us. Every shard taken, every Called awakened—it shifts reality. Terrain warps. Time bends. Boundaries collapse."
Vei finally spoke. Her voice was distant, hollow.
"The Ascended are moving. One of them crossed the boundary. The fracture deepens."
I didn't know what the Ascended were. Not yet.
But I would learn soon.
Later that night, while the others rested, I sat apart from the fire, watching the stars shift. They didn't move like Earth's. No constellations. Just clusters pulsing in complex patterns.
Kaelen approached quietly, settling beside me without a word.
"Why me?" I asked. "Why did the LAW choose me? I didn't even know this world existed."
She hesitated. "Because you're broken in the right way."
I turned to her.
She shrugged. "The Adaptive Soul LAW doesn't want strength. It wants instability. Something it can fill. Shape. Mold. It's not about what you've done—it's about what you've survived."
I thought of the moment I died. The train station. The noise. The panic. The thing in the crowd.
The silence after.
"And the others?" I asked. "What's their story?"
She pointed toward the camp.
"Dren burned his old village to stop an infection spreading. LAW found him after. Vei was born deaf, but she started hearing the whispers of dead LAW bearers. Tel's the youngest Called in decades—born during a lightning storm, surrounded by blooming crystal."
She leaned forward. "None of us are normal. You're not either. Pretending won't help."
I nodded slowly. "Then what now?"
"Tomorrow," she said, "we head to the Cradle Vault. First convergence point. The Ascended will be watching. Maybe intervening."
"Are we ready?"
She looked up at the stars, her eyes gleaming.
"No. But the LAW doesn't wait."
I slept uneasily, dreams flooded with visions of futures not yet lived. In one, I saw myself leading others into battle against a creature made of mirrors. In another, I knelt before something colossal—its voice both kind and cruel.
The LAW was not a gift. It was a test wrapped in a curse.
And dawn would come too soon.