Zane
The streets were soft with evening light as Zane walked with his siblings through the outer district.
The air smelled like cinnamon bread and hot oil from the fried mana-dumpling stand two streets back. Rune-lamps blinked on overhead in slow succession, casting pools of amber light down on cobbled streets that were just beginning to quiet. Stalls were closing, shutters thumping into place as the district settled into its usual nighttime rhythm.
Peaceful.
Old magic clung to this part of the city. Not in the powerful, blinding sense like the towers near the capital spire—but quieter. Lived-in. Warm. People here didn't wear enchanted robes or float three inches off the ground. They wore patched coats and ran shopfronts with charmstones duct-taped to old brackets.
Zane preferred it here.
"Okay, but seriously," Jordan said for the fifth time in six minutes, "she shook your hand."
Zane sighed.
"Not this again."
Lila walked beside him, posture calm, hands tucked into the folds of her long coat. Her expression was unreadable, but the corner of her mouth definitely twitched when Jordan started in.
"She didn't just shake it," Jordan continued, striding ahead and spinning to walk backward in front of them. "She looked at you. Like you were... I don't know, interesting. Like a puzzle box. A sexy, desirable puzzle box."
Zane coughed.
"How does a puzzle box become sexy?"
Jordan scowled. "You aren't taking this seriously, brother. This is a big deal. How are you ever going to lose your virginity if you don't take in obvious signs? Tell me, are you really my brother?"
Lila smacked the back of Jordan's head. "Why are you worried about your older brother's virginity, you idiot? Read the room."
"First of all, we're outside. So I cannot read a room. Second," Jordan shrugged, "how often does the perfect woman practically throw herself at you—and you do nothing? The way she smiled at you… I'm telling you. She likes you."
"She didn't throw herself at me. Don't make it weird. Plus, she's a Taranis," Zane muttered. "Probably smiles at everyone. Their family is super political."
"Zane," Jordan said, pausing with dramatic gravity, "that was not a smile for everyone. That was a 'you caught me off guard and I might like it' kind of smile. Or better yet, an 'I want your body' smile. And she blushed. Don't even deny it."
Zane didn't answer. He didn't have to.
His silence was enough to keep Jordan smirking as they turned the corner onto Merchant's Row.
Here, the cobblestone narrowed and sloped slightly downhill. Lights spilled from the small two-story buildings lining both sides—bakeries, paper wardsmiths, enchanted pottery shops. A girl in a thick apron argued with a client over the cost of a chipped focus crystal. A trio of enchanters adjusted a faulty sky-umbrella mount.
Jordan skipped ahead, arms outstretched, narrating his life like it was an epic.
"I'm just saying. If you don't make a move, I might. Never too early to start empire-building."
"Try it," Lila said flatly, "and I'll build a tomb instead."
Zane snorted.
Jordan stuck out his tongue, then darted off toward a glowing mana-fountain tucked in the corner of the square, hands trailing through the low-hanging light veil overhead.
Lila gave Zane a sidelong glance. "You're not denying it either."
"What?"
"That she blushed."
Zane rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm denying that it means anything."
Lila hummed. "You're usually better at lying."
Before he could answer, she paused, eyes scanning ahead. Two girls had emerged from the side alley near a tangle of mana-thread market stalls. Both looked about Lila's age—one with copper braids and a crest patch from the district's healer prep school, the other holding a charmcase full of scribing gear.
They spotted Lila at once.
"Lila!" one of them called, waving as she jogged over. "Hi. How was your first day of school—gods, is that your brother?"
Zane internally braced.
Copper Braid did a full-body double take. "That's Zane, right? I saw him online. He beat up a noble—what was his name? Drestal?"
The other girl let out a low whistle. "You didn't say your brother was that tall."
"He's not tall," Lila said flatly.
"He's tall. And hot," the second girl replied.
Middle schoolers were terrifying. They were talking about him like he wasn't even there.
"Big brother Zane," Copper Braid said, sliding up beside him with a teasing grin. "Do you have a girlfriend?"
Zane sent Lila a silent please help me look.
She didn't.
Instead, she crossed her arms and said flatly, "He doesn't have a girlfriend. And you're not allowed to flirt with him. He's traumatized."
Jordan returned just in time to catch that last part.
"Also incredibly modest," he added helpfully.
The girls laughed.
Zane did not.
But even he couldn't hold back a reluctant smirk as the sound of their laughter mingled with the soft buzz of closing market stalls and the sugary charcoal scent of a roasted fruit stand a few blocks over.
For a moment, the world felt simple. Normal. Like nothing bad had ever happened here.
Then one of Lila's friends leaned in, her voice dropping slightly. "Did you hear about the Rift in West Lira?"
Copper Braid's eyes widened. "The one that broke the mana bridges?"
"Three whole clearance teams," the girl said. "And they still had to call in CEU support."
Jordan perked up. "Was it a timer gate?"
"Nope. Wild-class," she replied. "The kind that shows up without warning and doesn't stabilize right. Just tore open mid-traffic."
"Those are the worst," the other girl groaned. "My cousin's in Rift Clearance—he says they leave… all sorts of spell pollution. Like phantom mana signatures that don't match any known element."
"They do," Zane said quietly.
The girls turned to look at him.
He didn't explain. But his gaze had shifted—upward, toward the dimming rune-lamps and the slow ripple of mana currents overhead.
Eva stirred.
[Zane. Look alive.]
Zane was about to answer when—
[Rift Lore Advisory: Wild-class anomalies exhibit irregular Adaptation Windows—typically 10–12 minutes post-manifestation before monster emergence.]
[Environmental mana remains highly unstable during this period. Symptoms: minor spell drag, light-source flicker, sensory dissonance.]
He didn't say any of that aloud. But he heard it. Felt it.
The reminder wasn't necessary.
He knew how it worked.
Rifts didn't just appear and spit monsters. Not immediately. The world had rules—even when it broke them.
Rifts needed time.
Time to stabilize.
Time to anchor.
Time to adapt.
Unless…
Unless they didn't.
Sometimes, Rifts appeared out of nowhere—fully formed and full-cycled.
"Rifts are chaotic gate phenomena formed when ambient mana fields fracture under dimensional strain," Jordan announced proudly, mimicking a System lecturer's cadence. "They have no predictable patterns, no formal structure, and cannot be navigated like traditional dungeons."
The copper-haired girl raised an eyebrow. "How old are you again?"
"Thirteen," Jordan said proudly. "And Lore certified."
Lila groaned. "He memorized the RiftNet wiki for fun."
Zane chuckled—but softly.
His eyes were on the sky now.
One of the lamps overhead flickered.
Then flickered again.
His expression shifted.
He didn't say anything.
Not yet.
But he knew that flicker wasn't natural.
Something was wrong.