Chapter 8: The Gate Opens
The final countdown had begun.
Forty-seven hours. Forty-six. Every passing minute was a reminder that the world was on the verge of being upended. Valerian felt the pressure mounting with each tick of the clock, each second that brought him closer to the inevitable confrontation with the Obsidian Gate. But more than the Gate itself, it was the unknowns that haunted him—the hidden creators of his soul, the Hollow Flame, and the consequences of whatever he chose to do next.
He had never felt more alone.
The campus seemed different now, as if it too sensed the coming storm. The usual hustle and bustle of student life had quieted. The air felt thick, charged with an ominous energy that made even the most mundane tasks seem fraught with danger.
Valerian had spent the past day in solitude, retreating into his dormitory with only the medallion and the vial for company. The vial. He had not touched it again, but it called to him. Each time he glanced at it, his heart raced, and his mind screamed for him to drink it, to embrace whatever power it offered. But he knew that power came at a cost. He wasn't sure what that cost was, but he was afraid it would be more than he could bear.
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"Valerian."
He turned, startled by the voice. Standing in the doorway of his dorm was Mila, her brow furrowed in concern. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, and her usual cocky demeanor was replaced by something softer, more vulnerable.
"I thought you'd be in the library or training," she said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.