Arvinda had stopped breathing, existing in a state called Jiva Samadhi, suspended between life and death. He survived on hope, fueled by devotion to a strange, forgotten god. He believed this deity had appointed him a task—one that spanned ages and epochs.

Stories of his existence appeared in every epoch, but humans of the land never noticed him. He wandered freely through Shorika, a living legend, a figure invisible yet steeped in history.

***************************************

Alvin's curiosity piqued as Ranjan spoke. His eyes grew glossy, a slight curl forming on his lips. "Brother… once we bathe under the green cave waters, we will go to Shorika. I want to find this Arvinda. I want to hear the stories of his life… and the god he worships."

Ranjan's gaze went vacant, distant, as if staring through time itself. "That… doesn't intrigue me," he murmured, voice low but edged with steel. "What I want to understand is this—what is the mythical power? What is this lure the world carries, drawing beings, epochs, even entire civilizations toward it? The Third World… it makes me feel small, insignificant in the race of power beyond imagination."

Alvin slipped on a plain white T-shirt, eyes still fixed on the old book lying open before them. "The Book of Future Shamrico gives no clue about the mythical powers or the cave water that allowed us to land outside Winland," he said flatly. "So what does it actually tell us?"

Ranjan's gaze lowered. A faint grin curved beneath his calm expression — the kind that hides a thousand thoughts. "It tells that something is about to happen," he said softly. "Soon, a war will rage. And after that… the Executive War will lead this world into a different era."

The air thickened. A strange scent of depth — like wet earth and burning metal — drifted across the room as Ranjan spoke. Alvin sat in silence, listening, every word digging deeper.

"This book says," Ranjan continued, "that we're living in the Seventh Epoch. Six have already passed. Some were nature's play, some mankind's, and some… the doing of outer beings. But this one — this epoch — everyone will play."

Silence followed. The clock ticked faintly in the background.

After a long pause, Alvin asked quietly, "Does it tell about us? What happens to us in this era?"

Ranjan leaned back, eyes half-lidded, voice dropping to a low murmur."What's about to come next," he said, "will be so grand, so vast… that we Tideborn will all be remembered only as Tideborn — nothing more, nothing less."

He brushed his fingers over the book's cover — the cracked leather gleamed faintly in the pale light." This book doesn't specify the groups within the Tideborn," he continued. "But it says the activities of the Tideborn will create such tension across the world that thirty-one nations will unite in fear. They'll form an alliance to destroy every last Tideborn — and that alliance will be called the World Organisation Chakra… WHC."

A long silence followed. Alvin's brows furrowed.

Ranjan's tone grew heavier. "We Tideborn will have no choice but to form our own alliance — just to survive this tide. The book mentions only one group by name… Vaiven."

**************************

The sound of that word hit the air like thunder — and for a moment, the room itself seemed to freeze.

Alvin blinked, disbelief in his voice. "Wait… it was written about Vaiven?"

That drum of war — its thunderous echo rolled across the mountain walls — came from none other than Soma Niko, commander of the elite ranks. An old man… yet not so old. Wrinkled by time but still carrying the sharpness of steel. Older than Hoshin Maru — and once, his equal. A man of unmatched rank, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Ryden Ryuki himself.

Standing at the entrance of the Ryuki Dojo, Soma beat his war drum with a rhythm that shook the wind. The gatekeeper, young and proud, barred the way, his staff crossed before the gate."You can't enter," the guard barked. "No one disturbs Lord Hoshin."

But Soma just smiled — a wild grin spreading across his lined face. His voice carried through the courtyard, rough yet filled with joy. He looked up, and there, high above, stood Hoshin Maru, visible through the open balcony of the top chamber.

"Hey, Hoshin!" Soma's shout cracked through the cold air. "Long time no see! Ten years — ten damn years since I last saw your face!"He raised a hand in an exaggerated wave, laughter bubbling through his words."Well, don't just stand there, boy. Let this old man in! I've got things to share — stories that'll twist your calm face into shock, you lil' brat!"

The gatekeeper's face twisted in fury. How dare he speak to the city's master like that? His hand moved to his blade — but Hoshin's voice cut through the rising tension."Stop. Let him enter."

Soma smirked, leaning toward the guard, poking his shoulder. "Hehe, you see, you see? Told you he'd let me in. Now step aside, junior."

The massive doors creaked open, and Soma Niko stepped inside. His sandals touched the old stone floor — smooth, cold, sacred. His eyes wandered around, wide and gleaming."Wow… wow," he murmured, his voice softening for the first time. "It's been so long since my eyes witnessed this dojo. Still feels the same. Still breathes the same air. Only a little older… like me."

********************************

Then Sukamu laughed—thin at first, then steady, almost gentle.

"Kids… kids," he said, voice soft in the cold. "You think you did nothing? No, you did what was written long ago. The age of Ramuza had to end. Five children would come and finish it."

His eyes glittered with a strange fire. "Ramuza was not innocent. He was one of the culprits of the Grand Era. Our tribe, Vincentia, suffered too. You think every face in that hall was pure? Let me clear this for you: they were not. They did heinous things across the lands. They were tied to the Tideborn—Vaiven. Tideborn is terror itself."

Sukamu's voice dropped, heavy as a stone. "Vaslimo and his family once commanded Vaiven's ship. They did horrors you cannot imagine."

He looked at Auren, and for the first time, the old man's tone sharpened into warning. "But Auren—be careful. Don't jump into things without thought. Think, act wisely. And you, little girl—dry your tears. This path is cruel, but it was not born from your whim."

Auren looked at Vivi, and for the first time, the flood of emotion he had been holding back threatened to break free. His lips trembled, and tears pooled in his eyes, refusing to be restrained any longer. He also noticed Nyra, silent, her gaze fixed on Dax, who rested on her lap, breathing slowly but surely. Nova lay in front of him, eyes open now, the rise and fall of his chest steady.

Auren's arms widened instinctively, enveloping them all in a warm, protective hug beneath the falling snow. It was as if he had been waiting for this moment his entire life, needing to hold them close, to anchor himself in the fragile, precious safety of friendship.

Sukamu's lips curved into a gentle smile, watching the scene unfold. "Go, Phantom," he said, his voice carrying both pride and relief.

The snow fell heavier around them, sparkling in the cold light, as if the world itself blessed their unity.

They reached Nova's place. After burden of blood.

***************************************

The old man's eyes widened in shock. As he was about to speak, he shivered a little. A quiet uneasiness spread through the room, carried by the chimney's glow. His sharp gaze dropped onto Ana's face. With a heavy voice, weighted by years of experience, he spoke slowly:

"Tales of the Grand Era… no one dares to ask about them. You are one of the rare few who wish to know. Only the Tideborns—criminals and outcasts—search for that history… or the curious ones, like you."

He spread his arms wide, like an eagle soaring in the open air, and embraced the warmth of the pink fire. Tilting his face upward, his eyes closed, as though he was sinking into a memory—something confident, something calming.

"The Grand Era… that was the age when our great hero lived—Mahavanga. He was our savior. He protected us from the Beasts of the Third World. Those beasts carried strength unimaginable to mortals. They grew larger the higher they ascended, until only a few Alphas remained—creatures so vast they could fly beyond Earth's skies and become larger than the world itself."

Ana's eyes kept widening. She felt uneasy—discomfort spreading through her body—her head trembling as though horror itself had knocked at her door, carrying a black sword, ready to strike.

The old man smiled gently, easing her tension.

"Oh, haha… calm down. The Third World will not attack us anymore. Our great Mahavanga—and Ryuki—saved us from them. There is no need to fear. The Grand Era ended five hundred years ago. If the Third World had to return, it would have done so by now."

Silence lingered in the air, heavy and thoughtful. Ana's voice slipped out, almost without her control:

"Do you know about… Ash Phantom?"

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