Xavier took a deep breath, eyes half-closed in thought before glancing at the altar. "Alright, then tell —how the hell do I wake this thing up or get it to start responding?"
The goddess’s tone shifted into sothing softer, almost ceremonial. "Place the fragnt on the altar."
Xavier stood, grabbed the fragnt, and walked over to where the altar was stationed. He set the fragnt onto it without hesitation.
The reaction was instant. The altar’s runes flared, threads of golden light wrapping around the fragnt before pulling it downward. A faint hum reverberated through the air as the smaller fragnt sank and seamlessly rged into the larger core already resting on the altar. Sparks of red and gold shot across the room like veins of living fire before settling into a soft, steady glow.
A few seconds later, the goddess’s voice filled the room again—calm, almost impressed. "It has indeed awakened before."
Xavier froze mid-breath, eyes narrowing. "Wait—what?" His voice ca out sharper than intended. "You said it was dormant. If it’s awakened already, that ans..." He trailed off, his mind instantly connecting the dots. "That ans there’s probably a prophet bound to it. Which ans I’ll either have to kill them or make them yield to gain the power of the fragnt."
"That would normally be true," the goddess replied, her voice now distant, asured. "But this case is... different."
Xavier’s eyes narrowed further. "Different how?"
"The prophet it once chose," she said slowly, "is already dead. Perhaps due to shock, the fragnt slumbered—it was wounded, severed from its vessel. When you placed it here, the altar’s energy stabilized it."
Xavier exhaled, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "So you’re saying I don’t have to go hunting anyone this ti? But I wonder what that person had to go through and how strong was the bond between the fragnt and the prophet that it went into slumber from shock. I guess we will never know the story."
"Correct. But," she continued, "the fragnt is still healing. Tell , was its form unusual when you found it?"
Xavier thought for a mont. "Yeah. It was smooth—shiny, almost perfect. No cracks, no spikes. But when I brought it..." He looked at the altar, where the rged core pulsed faintly with jagged lines of light. "Now it’s grown spikes. Rough edges too."
"That’s a sign of recovery," the goddess explained. "It’s repairing itself. Once whole, its resonance will fully awaken. But you don’t need to wait for that—its power has already been passed on to you."
Xavier frowned, his tone sharpening. "Then what power are we talking about? Because I don’t feel shit. When I got the Power Fragnt, I could feel it—like sothing shifting inside . This one’s silent."
"You’ll feel it soon," she said simply.
"Soon isn’t helpful," Xavier muttered, his voice carrying that mix of annoyance and curiosity that always ca when he was being left out of sothing. "At least tell what power this fragnt gives."
For a long mont, there was silence. The goddess’s altar stared at him, eyes glowing faintly, as if asuring what to reveal. And then, finally, she spoke a single word—quiet, almost whispering.
"Essence."
Before he could even respond, her presence flickered—and vanished.
Xavier blinked, staring at the empty air. "Essence?" he muttered under his breath. "What the hell’s that supposed to an?"
Xavier gave the altar one last look — the red glow pulsing faintly— before turning away. Whatever "Essence" ant, he’d have to figure it out later. For now, there was a different kind of chaos waiting for him.
When he stepped out of his room, he was hit by a wave of scent — food, dozens of different kinds, so still steaming, so already half-eaten, so tossed aside completely. The living room looked like a battlefield of plates, boxes, and bowls stacked high across the table and spilling onto the floor.
Lyra sat in the middle of it, hair slightly ssy, face glowing with warmth, both hands busy tearing through her next al. The mont Xavier’s eyes t hers, she just looked up for a second — silent, unfazed — and then went right back to chewing.
Lilia rushed over, her voice low but frantic. "Xavier, I don’t know what’s wrong with her—she’s been like this ever since you went in. She’s ordered so much food. And even though she eats a lot normally, this isn’t... this isn’t normal at all. She’s—"
"I know," Xavier said quietly, cutting her off. He glanced over at Lyra again, then back at Lilia. "I’ll handle it. You should rest. You’ve been buried in those university preparations for three nights straight, haven’t you?"
Lilia hesitated. "But—"
"No buts," Xavier said, softer now. "Go rest. I’ll take care of her."
She still looked uncertain, but his eyes had that sa calm authority that always made her stop arguing. "Alright," she said finally, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Just... be careful with her. She’s not acting like herself right now."
"I know."
Lilia gave Lyra one last worried glance before retreating down the hall. Xavier heard the faint click of her door locking a mont later.
He walked over and sat beside Lyra on the couch. The table between them was a disaster — boxes of noodles, steaks, curry, alien-looking desserts, even empty bottles of imported drinks.
Lyra didn’t look up. She just held out her hand lazily. "Drink."
Xavier grabbed the nearest glass and passed it to her. She downed it in a single gulp and reached for the next dish.
He watched her for a while, not saying anything. There was sothing raw about it — her movents, her expression — like she was being pulled by sothing stronger than her own will. Xavier was witnessing how just a ’phase’ can change a person so much.
After a mont, he asked, "How’re you feeling? Is it still just the heat, or... sothing else now? Are you having a certain feeling in particular or sothing you really want to do and can’t control, sothing taking over your instincts or sothing forcing you to do sothing you can’t?"
Lyra didn’t look at him. Her voice was quiet between bites. "I don’t know. I just... want to eat." She stabbed another piece of at, bit into it, swallowed, and continued in the sa breath. "Everything tastes good. I can’t stop."
Xavier leaned back against the couch, arms crossed loosely, watching her. The food kept coming — drones dropping off deliveries every few minutes — and Lyra didn’t slow down once.
He didn’t interrupt her again. He just sat there in silence, and watched her eat.
User Comments
0 comments from readers