When Dawn opened his eyes, the room was still glowing faintly.
The walls pulsed with that same quiet rhythm as before, steady, patient, like the mountain itself was breathing.
He hadn't slept much. Maybe 4 hours mabye less. His head still felt heavy, but his thoughts were already awake, running circles like restless animals.
He glanced outside. The ring above the city was pale again, its light shifting from silver to gold, signaling what counted as "morning" down here. Even without a real sun, Crysallis had its own cycle. Its own heartbeat.
Dawn stretched his arm slightly, wincing at the soreness in his shoulder.
"Guess that fall did more than I thought," he muttered under his breath.
He stepped out of his room and into the corridor. The walls there were quiet too, faint light moving through them like blood under skin. Elara's room was a few doors down. The golden-haired man's was at the far end, the one closest to the stairs.
Dawn stopped by Elara's door and knocked lightly.
No answer.
He knocked again.
After a moment, her voice came, soft and slightly groggy.
"…Yeah?"
"Wake up. Let's head out."
He heard a muffled groan, then the sound of movement. "Already?"
"It's not like we came here to rest."
A few minutes later, she joined him downstairs. Her hair was tied back loosely, and her expression was still half asleep, but her eyes were alert, she adapted fast. She always did.
The golden-haired man was already there, standing by the window, arms crossed, looking out at the city.
The two unconscious figures rested on a nearby couch, still surrounded by a faint aura that flickered like distant firelight.
"You've been up long?" Dawn asked.
The golden-haired man didn't turn around. "Didn't sleep."
Dawn raised an eyebrow. "Not even an hour?"
"My sequence allows me not to need it," he replied simply, still staring out the glass.
"Heh… I see," Dawn muttered.
For a brief moment, his thoughts drifted. What were their sequence statuses? Their stars?
He'd seen hints, raw power far beyond anything he could measure. Yet none of them spoke about it.
The thought lingered only a moment before he pushed it away. There'd be time for that later. Maybe.
He rubbed his temples. "We should move before the streets get too crowded. Places like this don't stay quiet for long."
Elara yawned, stretching slightly. "And where exactly are we moving to? We don't even know what part of the city this is."
"Exploring," Dawn said simply, as if that was enough. "We need to find somewhere that offers a portal, or some kind of teleportation, to Rinzard."
The golden-haired man finally turned, eyes calm but unreadable. "You intend to navigate a city you've never visited?"
Dawn shrugged. "You got a better idea?"
A faint smirk tugged at the man's lips. "Not yet."
Elara sighed. "You two really inspire confidence, you know that?"
Ignoring her tone, Dawn turned toward the door. "Let's go."
"Wait, what about Noir and Rias?"
"Noir and… Rias?" Dawn muttered, brows furrowing. "The other two… oh yeah you never told me their names."
Elara tilted her head slightly, the corner of her mouth twitching with what might've been amusement. "Guess we didn't. Huh."
"It's fine," Dawn said, "but you're right, I forgot about them."
"Don't worry," the golden-haired man spoke without turning, his tone cool and certain. "They'll be fine. I've made sure of it."
Dawn frowned. "How so?"
"Just know they're safe."
"…O-kay." Suspicion lingered in Dawn's voice.
He opened his mouth again. "Well, while we're sharing names, why don't you,"
The golden-haired man turned, his gaze locking onto Dawn's. The air itself seemed to thicken, pressing down, silent, heavy.
Dawn blinked, his throat tightening. "Huh… w-what was I gonna say? Never mind."
Elara noticed. Her expression hardened, eyes narrowing faintly at the golden-haired man.
Dawn let out a quiet sigh. "Let's go."
As they stepped outside, the city was already stirring. The crystalline streets glowed with soft light, merchants setting up stalls while floating platforms glided above carrying early travelers. The ring in the sky shone brighter now, bathing everything in a warm golden hue.
The air was clearer than Dawn expected. Cool, faintly sweet, with a mineral sharpness that lingered on the tongue. The sound of chimes echoed faintly from somewhere distant, delicate, almost melodic.
Elara fell into step beside him, her gaze moving constantly. "This place is… truly lively."
Dawn looked around his focus stayed forward, on the crowds beginning to gather along the street, different races, different tongues, trading, laughing, shouting. The smell of spice and burning food filled the air.
They walked deeper into the city, their reflections bending and warping against the crystal walls as they passed. Somewhere ahead, a tower pulsed faintly,like a heartbeat responding to their presence.
Dawn felt it before he saw it.
A faint pull in the air.
"The hell…?" he muttered quietly. His eyes flickered slightly, pupils tightening.
"That… was that mana?"
His chest tightened. Concern settled over his face.
Mana.
Such a thing, only Celestians wielded mana.
But as he thought more about it, it began to make sense.
All these races gathered here, all this power in one place, Celestians would definitely be among them.
If they were to run into one… what would happen?
He wasn't sure.
Not that anyone would notice anyway. Dawn could sense mana, something even his parents hadn't known about him.
Even he didn't know how he did it. It wasn't a skill, not a blessing. It was just there, instinctive.
He stopped walking, eyes narrowing slightly.
Elara noticed. "What is it?"
"…Nothing." He exhaled softly. "Let's keep moving."
After walking for a while, they began to realize just how vast Crysallis truly was. The streets wound endlessly, layered upon one another like veins of light.
In the distance, a massive building rose above the rest, its walls a seamless blend of silvery metal and crystal, polished until they gleamed like moonlight. At its center was a sigil: a circle split by three intersecting lines, forming a star within an eye.
The Mark of Concordia, the universal emblem of Sequencer Guilds across the continent. A place of gathering, registration, and refuge for those who walked the paths of power.
Dawn slowed. "That symbol…"
"Huh, that symbol, isn't that the seal of the Cordians?" Elara asked curiously.
"Cordians?" Dawn repeated, frowning. "Seems to be another thing from your memories I don't know about."
"Well?" he asked. "You remember enough to explain?"
"Unfortunately not," Elara admitted.
"I also do not know," the golden-haired man added flatly.
Dawn sighed. "Figures."
The golden-haired man's tone grew firm. "Still, if anywhere in this city holds information about portals or transport sigils, it'll be there."
They continued down the street, the crowd thickening as they drew near. Adventurers, scholars, guards, and merchants all streamed in and out of the enormous doors, their voices blending into a steady hum.
"Woah," Elara murmured, tilting her head as she looked up at the glowing structure. "This place is a spectacle."
Dawn smirked faintly. "C'mon. Let's see what we can find here."
And with that, the three of them stepped through the shimmering gates of the Sequencer Guild.
---
Somewhere deep within Crysallis, far from the bustling streets, a chamber of prismatic light pulsed with quiet intensity.
The walls were alive with shifting colors, blue bleeding into red, red into gold, gold into violet, each crystal reflecting another until the room seemed endless.
A man kneeled on the crystalline floor, dressed in black, the sheen of his attire catching the rainbow glow.
"Sire," he said, his voice low, reverent. "Four unidentified individuals have entered the city."
Before him stood a throne. Not carved, grown, from the crystal itself. Its surface shimmered like liquid glass, veins of light coursing through it.
And seated upon it… a figure.
Humanoid in shape, yet too still, too precise to be entirely human. Tubes of glowing azure light ran from the throne into his back, pulsing in time with his slow breaths. His eyes, when they opened, gleamed like molten gold.
"This city," he spoke, his voice calm yet vast, echoing through the chamber like a chorus layered upon itself, "exists still because I allow it to."
He leaned forward slightly, the crystals beneath his fingers cracking faintly from the pressure. "Did you truly think I would not know of their arrival?"
The kneeling man bowed lower. "Of course not, my lord. But the Celestians, they are gathering again. Shall I mobilize one of the Wardens?"
The golden-eyed being smiled, slow and cold. "No… There is no need."
He looked past the man, to the shifting colors around them, each hue reflecting countless unseen forms within.
"My children," he said softly, voice laced with power that made the air itself hum, "will handle it."
The room fell silent, save for the steady pulse of the crystals.
The throne glowed brighter, alive, aware.
And the mountain continued to breathe.