It had been three days since the Nexus fell.
Three days since Amara shattered the Circle's core chamber.Since she broke the cycle.Since she rewrote the rules of magic — and lit up the world like a flare.
Now they were hiding.
Lucien sat across from her in a candlelit room beneath an abandoned monastery on the outskirts of Prague. A resistance safehouse, long forgotten. Warded to hell and back. Even Madalena didn't know this one existed.
Amara hadn't spoken since they arrived.
She hadn't slept either.
"Say something," Lucien finally said.
She didn't look at him. "I changed the laws, Lucien."
"You saved both of us."
"No," she said quietly. "I changed everything. And now the magic world is going to come knocking."
Lucien didn't argue.
Because they both felt it: a hum in the air, constant and sharp. A magical pressure building. Not from a spell. From the universe itself, trying to rebalance.
Amara stood and paced. "We need to find out what's waking up out there. Who's going to come after us next."
Lucien leaned forward. "Then we go deeper. We find the Hollow Crown."
Amara blinked. "What the hell is that?"
Lucien's face was grim. "It's not a thing. It's a person."
He pulled out an old slip of parchment, blackened around the edges. A name scrawled in faded ink:
Nereza.
"After the Circle rose, she vanished. The legends say she's older than the Flame-Bearers. Older than the language of magic itself. She wore the Hollow Crown — a title for the wielder of balance. A judge between life and death, order and chaos."
Amara frowned. "Why haven't I heard her name before?"
Lucien met her eyes.
"Because the Circle erased her. They feared her more than anyone."
"And now that the Circle's gone…" Amara said slowly, realization dawning.
Lucien nodded. "She might be returning."
A knock interrupted them — two taps, then one.
Amara moved first, dagger in hand. Lucien behind her, silent.
They opened the door — and found Madalena, soaked to the bone, breathing hard.
"They're not dead," she gasped.
Amara grabbed her shoulders. "Who?"
"The Circle," she said. "At least not all of them. Three escaped the Vienna sanctum. They're rallying the old sympathizers. Rebranding. Rebuilding. And worse—"
She held up a coin. Blackened, etched with gold.
A new sigil.
The Spiral — inverted.
Lucien's eyes narrowed. "They've changed."
"No," Madalena said. "They've evolved."
Amara stepped back, mind racing.
The Spiral was once a symbol of rebirth. Now? It twisted inward. A seal of collapse.
Lucien looked at Amara. "They're not just trying to survive."
"They're trying to replace us," she said.
A long silence.
Then Madalena dropped the final piece.
"They've chosen a new leader," she said. "Someone no one has seen in centuries."
Lucien's face went pale.
Amara's voice was low. "Who?"
Madalena hesitated. "Nereza. The Hollow Crown."