The sun rose over Valdorne like a solemn vow, casting golden rays upon the battered fortress city that had, against all odds, stood firm in the tide of Renegade assault. The crumbled walls bore fresh banners—those of Coralis, Aethelmar, and now the insurgent standard of the Soma Rebellion, a silver fox encircled by blooming thorns. Where once there was hesitation, now there was hardened resolve.
In the grand stone council hall, its stained-glass windows catching the light in cascading mosaics of color, the silence was dense. Leaders from across the Western continent had arrived—generals with battlefield scars, warlords draped in furs and armor, archmages cloaked in arcane symbols, and guildmasters wielding political influence like blades. They stood ringed around an obsidian war table, polished so fine it reflected their worried faces like a dark mirror.
Guild Master Davis Ravencraft, his cloak still flecked with ash from the last siege, stood tall at the head. Once the resolute leader of the Hunter's Guild, today he was the spark igniting the rebellion.
"We've all seen what the Falzath rot has done to our lands," he began, voice raw yet unyielding. "We've seen cities fall. Families destroyed. But in Kharzad, we saw something else. We saw that King Tristan's corruption can be challenged. And we saw who could challenge it."
A low murmur followed, eyes shifting to the young man standing just behind him—Shin Soma. Quiet, but emanating strength, he stood with hands calmly folded, his orb faintly glowing at his hip. From its gleam, the phantom shimmer of Yoshimatsu's silhouette flickered—an echo of the past, bound to his soul. His gaze held the weight of lifetimes, even though his years were few.
Beside him stood Laverna, fierce and poised, her amber eyes unwavering. Her tiger eye necklace shimmered with power as if echoing the fire in her heart. Zera held Clarent with quiet nobility, a relic of her royal lineage. Tessara, ethereal with her Moonflower Mask resting between her hands, breathed deeply, attuned to something unseen. Maika, cloak billowing from the wind seeping through the broken chamber windows, kept her fingers near the Taiyo no Men hanging at her hip, ever alert.
Lyssa stepped forward with poise, her lightning-threaded cloak brushing the marble floor. "Valdorne can't just be a fortress anymore," she declared. "It must be a beacon to every soul still resisting. We'll make this place sacred. Let our enemies fear it."
With silent accord, she joined Laverna. As they raised their hands, magic sparked through the air—fire and lightning spiraling upward like twin dragons. Heat pressed against the walls. Symbols lit up the stone like branding irons—Soma glyphs twining with Hunter's Guild arcana.
Their crests flared. Laverna's crest burned just above her navel like molten ruby, Lyssa's across her collarbone like a streak of blue-white lightning. The tiger eye pendant on Laverna's chest pulsed with maternal warmth, a reminder of her lost past and burning resolve. The war table responded, bathing the hall in pale luminescence.
A hush swept through the leaders.
A wizened elder from Aethelmar, draped in a cloak of stars, stepped forward. "I once believed the Soma name buried beneath betrayal and bloodshed. But today... today, I have seen rebirth. Perhaps the past can rise anew."
Another voice rose—Lord Adrion of Coralis, clad in gold-trimmed armor. "You don't just carry the legacy of your clan, Shin Soma. You carry the last flame of this continent's hope. Coralis stands with you."
One by one, heads lowered. Hands extended. Magical signatures—arcane, divine, and raw—blazed across the table. The banner of the silver fox surrounded by thorns flared in full above them all.
And then came the vision.
The orb on Shin's belt surged with energy, searing white and gold, halting all movement. Shadows spilled across the room like ink, then pulled inward. The center of the war table bloomed into a window of nightmare.
Tristan's court.
A realm of ruin—blackened spires jutted skyward, twisted and hunched. The sky glowed molten. At its heart sat King Tristan, half his face obscured by a gleaming silver mask. His left hand was no longer human, but monstrous—clawed and pulsing with living Falzath energy. Beside him stood Queen Mariam, her gaze distant, void of soul.
A voice coiled out of the vision.
"Let them come," Tristan sneered, voice thick with malice. "Let the Soma fox rise. It will make his fall all the more exquisite."
The image shattered. Cold silence rushed in.
Davis broke it. "Then let him fall with fire."
Shin glanced to his side. To his harem. His family.
Laverna slipped her hand into his. Her fingers trembled, but her grip never faltered.
"We'll never kneel. Not to him. Not to anyone."
Zera's voice was steel. "He wants a hunt? Then let us be his storm."
Tessara raised the Moonflower Mask and set it across her eyes. Divine light shone beneath it, casting her blind gaze in moonlight. "The shadows don't own us anymore."
Maika's hand caught fire—sunfire. Her voice didn't waver. "We will cleanse his lies from this earth."
Around them, the council flared with light. Weapons were unsheathed—not in anger, but in oath. Crests shone. Spells sparked.
The rebellion had a banner.
It had a home.
It had fire.
And now, it had every heart it needed to change the world.
They would rise.
They would march.
They would fight.
Together.