The Vicar just stared at the blood-streaked mirror.
Didn't say much. Just muttered like something was answering back.
Nobody else in the White Spire knew what was happening. They prayed. Lit candles. Begged their gods. Thought maybe it was the Calamity coming back.
It wasn't.
It was Luceris.
And the mirror felt it.
Far below, in a forgotten chamber behind the palace walls, Luceris stood in front of a wall of black glass. Not smooth. Cracked. Twisted like something had tried to tear through from the other side.
Kaelis was there. Elira too. Both quiet.
Luceris stared into the glass. Said nothing for a while.
"It's stirring," he muttered.
Elira stepped up beside him. "You sure this is smart?"
"No."
"Then why?"
He touched the glass with his bare hand.
"Because it remembers."
The glass pulsed.
Not loud. Not flashy. Just… wrong.
Elira backed up. Kaelis went for his blade.
Luceris just stood there, face still, like he'd done this before. Like he hated every second of it.
Then the room went cold.
Real cold.
"Luceris," Kaelis said, low. "That thing's waking up."
"I know."
"What's it gonna do?"
Luceris didn't answer. Not at first.
Then: "It'll start with fear."
Back in the war room though honestly it looked more like a cave now Luceris paced in front of a burnt map. Places crossed out. Others circled in charcoal. A few bloodstained.
Kaelis leaned over the table. "The nobles are already panicking."
"They should," Luceris muttered.
Serina showed up with new intel. "Two more Houses packed up and fled east. Velan and Roth."
"Cowards," Eyrin said, lounging on a broken chair. "Or smart."
"Both," Luceris said.
He pulled out a rolled scroll, unsealed it, and dipped his thumb in blood. Pressed it to the page.
Letters flared up in red ash:
You picked the wrong side.
There's no place left to run.
"That's going out to every noble that backed Elric," he said.
Kaelis frowned. "You wanna start war like this?"
"No," Luceris replied, folding the scroll. "I want them to start it."
Later that night, in the back streets near the slums, a group of beggars saw something strange.
An old chapel abandoned, ruined lit up with a weird black flame.
Some kid tried to step inside.
Passed out cold.
When he woke up, he kept muttering the same thing:
"Crown's burning again."
Nobody knew what it meant.
But by morning, a dozen folks were praying at the ruin. Not to the Empire's gods. Not even to old saints.
They didn't say Luceris's name.
They just called him the Ash-Worn Crown.
Elira sat on a rooftop, tossing a coin between her fingers. Watched kids play in the mud near a cracked fountain.
"You're stirring up ghosts," she said, without looking.
Luceris leaned against a wall nearby. Quiet.
"Not ghosts," he said. "Just... memories."
"You talk like a different person these days."
Luceris didn't answer. Just looked up at the sky. It was gray again. Felt like it always was now.
"You're planning something," she added.
"I always am."
"Can I know this one?"
Luceris glanced at her. Just a look. Said more than words.
She sighed. "Thought not."
That night, they hit the last pieces of Elric's support chain.
Kaelis took his men through the tunnels under House Velan's old vaults.
Serina slipped into the western barracks and lit up their supply lines.
Eyrin crashed a merchant council and exposed a noble's secret deals with the Lotus cult. With witnesses.
And Luceris?
He went back to the old tomb. Alone.
There, he unsheathed a blade sealed behind bone and flame. Ashrend. Blade wasn't clean. Weren't many stories left about it. But Luceris remembered what it did.
He held it in both hands.
The edge burned against his skin.
He didn't flinch.
"Same road," he muttered. "Different ending."
Then he dragged the blade across his chest.
Kaelis found him standing there, smoke rising off his skin, eyes like fire barely held back.
"You alright?"
"No."
Kaelis paused. "...Good."
Luceris smirked. Just a little. "We move tomorrow."
The next day, the High Church started burning its own records.
Some priests vanished. Others started locking doors that hadn't been closed in centuries.
The Vicar didn't hide anymore.
He stood on the highest balcony of the White Spire and told the city:
Judgement walks again. Fire follows him."
Didn't name names.
He didn't have to.
Back in the war chamber, Kaelis laid out updated maps.
"Ten noble houses have gone dark. Three more pulled their troops back from the border."
Luceris marked two spots near the royal gardens. "Elric's keeping his core guard tight. That means he's scared."
"We hit him now?" Serina asked.
"No," Luceris said. "We make him hit first."
"How?"
Luceris smiled.
"We light the bell again."
That night, the Imperial Bell tolled once more.
Just once.
Didn't matter.
People heard it in their bones.
Same hour, Luceris sent a message to the gatekeepers of the capital:
Open the outer gates. Let the people in."
They did.
Slums flooded into the outer districts.
Merchants. Orphans. Broken ex-soldiers. All chanting something soft. Something no one taught them.
Not Luceris's name.
Not some holy phrase.
Up in the palace, Elric stood at the window, fists clenched.
He watched the fires light across the lower rings.
"Call in every guard," he said.
The steward blinked. "All of them, my prince?"
"Don't call me that."
He turned, eyes wild.
"Seal the spire. Bring the swords. Anyone not in armor gets hanged."
"Yes, sir."
The steward left in a hurry.
Elric walked to the edge of the throne room.
Looked at the empty chair.
Whispered like a kid who just found monsters were real.
"Why aren't you stopping him, father?"
The throne stayed still.
The old man in it didn't move.
Not once.
Far below, in a crypt lit by emberlight, Luceris stared at an old mural half-burnt, cracked.
It showed the empire's founding.
Seven lords kneeling before a single crowned figure in shadow.
Ash pouring from the crown.
"I remember now," he said.
Elira stood behind him. "Remember what?"
He traced the figure with a finger.
"They didn't kneel to the empire. They knelt to the fire."