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Cass's boots echoed against the cold stone as he led his small team deeper into the academy's underground. Torchlight danced off ancient brick—walls that never seemed so vibrant. He glanced back at Rylan, Mara, and Javi, their faces set in the dancing flames.

"We're close," Cass murmured, tracing a faded rune carved into the damp wall. "This tunnel wasn't on any of the original blueprints. It must predate the academy's founding."

Mara knelt, brushing away moss. "The symbols... they're archaic. Not lycan, not witch, more... primal." She traced the grooves with a finger, then looked up. "They speak of a cycle—'The host bound by shadow returns each century to claim the Luna's light.'"

Cass's pulse accelerated. All the warnings he and Mina had assembled from her visions led here: to a forgotten source of the darkness that now ravaged Damon. He nodded curtly. "Lead on."

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They walked the corridor until it opened into a huge chamber below the foundations of the academy. The ceiling arched high above, held up by stone pillars carved with twisting serpents and jagged sigils. The air was thick with magic—a slow, pulsing vibration that resonated in Cass's chest.

Against the back wall was a raised platform. On it, in the center of a circular mosaic, was a shattered obsidian basin, its rim incised with runes that glowed pale violet. Cass felt the magic of the basin drawing at him, reaching at the edges of his awareness.

"Step back," he cautioned. "This is older than Nocturnis was established."

Rylan's wolf eyes ranged around. "Older than Nocturnis was established?"

Cass nodded. "Older than the agreement of lycan and witch together." He stepped forward. Each step sent motes of dust fluttering into the air that danced in the light of the torches like tiny specters.

Mara lifted a lantern, illuminating the mosaic: twin serpents coiled about a hurt moon, their eyes run through with shards of glass that glittered. "This... is the cycle Frigg talked about," she breathed.

Javi moved back to the dais, staring into the basin. "Blood drips once the host is taken. The magic feeds off it."

Cass swallowed. "Legend has it the first host gave their own blood to seal the darkness. But they never broke the cycle—each century a new host, each time a Luna's power diminished."

He knelt next to the basin, fingertips brushing against cold stone. A thrill of recognition coursed up his arm. He shut his eyes, and the room vanished.

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Cass's Vision

He stood alone in a courtyard with burning torches—a shadow of the academy, but barren. Smoke billowed from toppled towers, and in the shadows, figures twisted like living abominations.

In the center, Tasha crouched in front of a shattered altar, her light magic weakening like candles dying. Facing her, Damon's army was coming: warriors and students once sworn to the pack, now in tattered cloaks bearing the twin-serpent banner.

Blackwood tried to shield her, his body a steel rampart of agony and grief, but the shadows engulfed him. Cass shrieked, flinging herself forward, but was halted by an invisible barrier.

Tasha looked up, blazing with rage. She grasped a crystalline sword—in half light, in half dark shadow. She gripped it as though it were her only link to life.

As the serrated edge cut into the blackness of night, Damon advanced, shadowy talons coalescing around him like fog. He laughed, a cold, joyless sound that echoed in Cass's mind.

"The Luna's flame will extinguish and smolder," Damon quoted. "For only with her downfall can the cycle be broken... reformed."

Cass leaned back, but a glimpse evaporated like glass. He fell to one knee, choking. When his eyes refocused, the vaulted ceiling of the room loomed overhead once more. Rylan and Mara knelt at his side, concern etched on their faces.

"You all right?" Rylan whispered.

Cass rubbed his temples. "I saw... them. It's coming, Rylan. If we don't get it to stop, she'll have to make the choice—love or legacy."

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MINA'S POV

Up above, in the parched walls of her makeshift office, she read Frigg's journal.

Paltor and ethereal blood-scripts filled pages detailing an old ritual: the Soul?Binding Eclipse.

Frigg's handwriting was chaotic but deliberate—only by binding Luna's soul with the host's shattered psyche was the cycle to be halted.

Mina traced Frigg's trembling script:

Upon that night the moon is crimson-red, the Luna has to release willingly her radiance into nothingness. Blood from the host's body should seal the compact—conjuring darkness and light together in proportion. Only so will the wheel stop. or start all over again at her whim.

A knot of empty space congealed in her throat. The next complete moon was days off. Frigg's final caution hung suspended between the lines: Beware of the price, for legacy and love are rarely borne side by side.

Her mind recalled Tasha—her magical sister, her friend—lying uncomfortably in the infirmary.

Mina rose to her feet and picked up the journal, determination steadying her nerves.

If she could solve the remainder of the ritual before time ran out—if she could survive the cost—she could give Tasha the power of choice without damnation.

Footsteps creaked outside. Julia crept in, shrouded in concern. "We found more tampering of the wards—nightshade, twisted wards, illusions put in empty halls. Damon's touch grows." She spoke low. "And Cass... he's changed since he went below."

Mina clutched the journal tightly. "Let him know what he must know. We have to ready ourselves—soul and spirit. The eclipse draws near."

Julia nodded, haunted eyes. "I'll have his back."

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BLACKWOOD'S POV

Blackwood stood on the ramparts that overlooked the training grounds, first light of dawn catching off his armor.

The academy was coming to life—students flowing from their barracks, training resuming under ward and torch.

His gaze, however, was directed at the wall to the north, filled with guardian glyphs.

A panel swung open beneath his gauntlet, upon which Julia's map had been sketched in a dash.

She'd come with dire news: the renegade armies had rallied under an exiled warlock centuries past, and still more arrived by the day.

They were riding on a course to the Grey Mountains—to the pack ancestral lands.

Blackwood placed a rune-tipped gauntlet on his hand. He regarded Tasha, approaching him in robes of silver dawn, crystal pendant glinting in the light.

"They ride fast," she breathed. "We strike at their center or defend here to the end."

He placed a hand on her shoulder. "We prepare both. Cass will command the journey south. You remain here—our anchor—and form the soul-sealing bond." He gazed at the journal resting in her satchel. "I believe in you."

Tasha nodded, stern but resolute. "I will not fail."

He rose and stood there as she walked away, chest tightening. What price will she pay? he wondered. Frigg's threat—legacy or love—loomed over them like a guillotine.

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DAMON & DARKNESS POV

Across the desecrated landscape where horrors lived, Damon walked between pillars of smoke and bone. His laughter was a hollow, frightening noise that echoed back through the black air.

"They flatter themselves that they are wise," the blackness breathed out of him. "But they cannot prevent the eclipse. The Luna will run red. And during that bloody hour, her decision will beget a new era—or her annihilation."

A figure formed out of the blackness—one of the three altered students, eyes as empty as the dead of night. "Master," she whispered, bending. "The basins of our abilities run deep. They tremble in fear of what is approaching."

Damon leaned forward, lips twisting into a merciless smile. "Excellent. Let fear divide them. When the eclipse drops, their ties will break. And from their shattered vows, our dominion shall arise."

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COUNCIL'S DECISIONS

That evening, the council gathered again in the secret war room.

Cass rose to speak, voice coarse. "The room beneath the academy.

.. It's an old magic throne. We located the original cycle's altar—Damon's echoes there.

The prophecy... it speaks of a soul-binding eclipse.

We can stop it, but at the cost of her full sacrifice. "

Julia's turn came next. "The wards are holding for now, but I expect others will manage to get through them. We need all hands on deck—each student's loyalty stretched to the breaking point."

Mina, clutching Frigg's journal to her chest, looked at Tasha. "I've translated the final rite. It's in your tears, your blood... and in the host's willing arms." Her voice was trembling. "It'll bind you but leave you... changed forever.".

Tasha's breathing caught. She gazed at Blackwood—his heart, his very essence, in his eyes. "I will master the ritual. But promise me, if not—"

Blackwood moved close, his eyes and finger pinning her mouth shut. "You will. We will persevere—all of it—together."

Cass stepped forward, resolve etched on his features. "Then we prepare. Tomorrow, at moonrise, we gather. We will run the soul-bindings, test the wards, and be in readiness for the eclipse."

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CLIFFHANGER

Later, Tasha held Frigg's journal in the soft glow of the flickering lantern, words leaping before her eyes:

"By blood and light, by darkness and will, the Luna's flame shall seal the host—for love, legacy, and the dawn of all."

She put a hand over her heart, heart racing. Outside, the wind whispered warning—or promise:

"Choose, Luna. The night draws near."

While the lantern fluctuated, her crystal began to glow, and the black in the corner slunk forward on legs, hungry for the moment she would decide.

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