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They spread their data across the heavy oak table in Aria’s private study, the firelight gilding the edges of scrolls, sketches, and floating holographic notes Elara pulled from her interface. Malphas leaned against the window frame, his arms folded, watching closely as Aria lined up the timelines.

“First,” Aria said, tapping a rune-carved stone tablet, “this is the signature left behind when I arrived. The wardens found traces of it in the dungeon cell where I woke up. It didn’t match any rift magic, any demon gateway, any natural crossing we know of.”

Elara tapped her glowing panel, and a jagged, pulsing purple-blue line appeared in the air, overlapping...