The distant Starhaven light flared brighter on the horizon, as if the words "break the measure" had carried across the miles. Kael watched it pulse once more, then turned back to Rhen.

  "Tell me what happened there," Kael said, voice low. "The measure. The kids."

  Rhen leaned against the stone wall, the dawn light catching the deep lines of exhaustion etched into his face. He stared at the ground for a long moment, as if the memories were buried there and he had to dig them up.

  "Ten of them," he said finally, voice rough like gravel. "Fresh batch. Small ones mostly—five to ten years old. Dirty from the yard, eyes wide, holding each other's hands when they thought no one saw. I herded them into line myself. Told them to stand straight. Stars forward. No talking."

  Kael's chest tightened, but he stayed silent, letting Rhen speak.

  "The black dead star in the center—the shard that scans. They step up one by one. Hand on it. The tear above the gate pulses, judging the light. Strong get marked for training. Weak... the Arbiter drains them. Palm to chest. Light pours out. Body convulses. Skin grays. Eyes empty. Husk crumbles to dust before it hits the ground."

  Rhen's hands trembled slightly as he spoke. "Seven didn't pass last night. High alert—no delays, no mercy. Lira watching every move. Arbiters everywhere. One had a white star—faint, soft glow. They called it anomaly. Drained it slower, like they were studying how it fought back. The scream... it lingered longer."

  He looked up at Kael, eyes raw. "I stood there the whole time. Acted like it was routine. Nodded when it was over. 'Next.' But inside... it breaks me every time. The screams echo in my head all the way back here. The empty eyes stare back when I close mine. I stay because if I leave, it's worse—no one to slow it, no intel for us. But nights like last... they take another piece."

  Kael placed a hand on Rhen's shoulder, the void humming cold in his chest. "We won't let it keep taking pieces from you."

  Rhen met his eyes, a tired nod. "We won't. But we do it right—no rushing in blind."

  They parted as the Crucible woke—Rhen to rest, Kael carrying the weight like a stone in his gut.

  He found the team in the side yard, their usual spot away from the main drills. Toren was swinging slow, heavy punches, orange light flaring with each motion as he worked the stiffness from his back. Vel sat on a crate, carefully flexing her healing arm, sling loose now. Lark leaned against the wall, silent as always, scar pulling tight in the morning light.

  They looked up as Kael approached, reading the storm in his face.

  Kael didn't waste words. "Rhen told me the details from last night. The measure at Starhaven. Ten kids. Seven harvested. One white anomaly—they drained it slow, studying it."

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  Vel's face paled, her flexing stopping. "Seven... and he had to watch?"

  Toren's punch froze mid-air, orange aura crackling hot around his fists. "We knew he was inside, risking it all. But the details... kids screaming, light pouring out..."Lark's voice came low, rough. "The white one. Like Elowen. They studied it."

  Kael nodded, the images Rhen painted burning behind his eyes. "High alert. They're looking closer because of Ashveil. Hunting anomalies."

  The yard fell quiet, the wind rustling through sparse trees, carrying distant training clangs like mocking echoes.

  Vel stood slowly, pacing a few steps, her voice sharp with anger and pain. "So he's there, pretending to be one of them, while they drain kids dry? And that white one—slow, like they were tasting it? How does he even come back from that?"

  Toren's fists clenched tighter, orange light sparking. "We knew it was bad, but hearing it... we can't let him stay there forever. He's breaking himself for this."

  Lark pushed off the wall, eyes hard. "He's buying us time. Saving what he can. But the anomaly hunt—that's us. Meant for Kael. For Elowen."

  Kael met their eyes, the void humming in agreement. "We prepare. Train harder. The ring's closing—we make sure we're stronger when it does. When the chance comes, we take Starhaven back. For the kids. For Rhen."

  Mid-morning, Kael found Elowen in the healers' garden—a quiet patch of herbs tucked behind the infirmary. She sat on a low bench, white light soft around her fingers as she coaxed a wilted flower back to bloom. The petals unfurled slowly, green returning to the stem, life answering her touch.

  She looked up as he approached, smile fading at his expression. "Rhen told you more."

  Kael sat beside her. "About the anomaly hunt. For white stars."

  Her light dimmed, hands trembling on the flower. "They're looking for me."

  "They've always been," Kael said, voice steady. "But now it's closer. High alert."

  She leaned against him, small frame tense, voice barely a whisper. "I'm scared. What if my light brings them here? What if it's my fault kids like that white one..."

  Kael took her hand, blue light pulsing gentle in response, wrapping around her white like protection. "It's not your fault. It's theirs. And we'll make your light strong enough to fight back."

  She looked up at him, eyes shining with unshed tears but fierce underneath. "Together?"

  "Together."

  They trained in the garden, away from watching eyes. Kael summoned a small void swirl, pulling at fallen petals—clean, controlled, no strain. Elowen fed white light into it—the blue deepening, the pull steadier, more precise. Together, they formed a brief dome—blue void edged with white glow, humming with power that felt balanced, complete, like two halves finding each other.

  Elowen smiled through the fear, breath catching in wonder. "It doesn't fight itself anymore. It's... us."

  Kael squeezed her hand, feeling the sync resonate in his star. "We'll make it strong enough to protect everyone. Including the kids still there."

  Afternoon brought the first real pressure from the ring. A scout returned from the eastern ridge—cloak torn, face grim from a long night watch. The closest tear had grown overnight, violet edges throbbing brighter. Arbiters patrolled its borders, more organized than before. And the whispers... faint, but reaching the outer patrols now.

  "Thief," the scout reported, voice low in the small briefing with Rhen and the team. "Anomaly. They repeat it."

  Rhen's gray star flickered under his tunic. "They're searching the region. Not here yet—the wards hold—but the ring's pulling in."

  Vel flexed her arm. "How long?"

  "Days for the closest to threaten patrols. Weeks for the full circle."

  Toren grinned fierce. "Time to train."

  Evening fell cold. Kael stood on the wall with Elowen beside him, the team nearby. The ring lights dotted the dark—closer than yesterday, pulsing slow.

  "The net's tightening," Elowen whispered.

  Kael's void stirred, blue pulsing faint.

  "We'll be ready when it does."