The domain air felt heavier than normal, thick in a way Noah couldnât quite explain. He stood on the grass that shouldnât exist in any real location, watching his dragons circle above like they were caught in some invisible current.
Stormâs Arctic Shroud manifested in brief pulses, frost spreading through the air before dissipating. Nyxâs flames flickered across his scales in patterns that seemed almost restless. Ivyâs vine appendages extended and retracted, reaching toward nothing Noah could see.
But they were calming down. The frantic circling from moments ago had slowed, become less desperate. Their movements were still agitated, but the immediate crisis seemed to be passing.
Noah stayed where he was, not approaching. Experience with beasts had taught him that certain situations demanded distance over comfort. When an alpha called, it overrode most things. Loyalty, training, even bonds built over months or years. It was like watching a dog succumb to rabiesâthe animal you knew was still in there somewhere, but the disease had taken control, and getting too close meant getting hurt regardless of past affection.
âI donât know what theyâre hearing. Donât know what theyâre feeling. But whatever it is, itâs strong enough to make them forget I exist.â
Storm passed overhead, close enough that Noah could have reached up and touched his tail if heâd jumped. The wyvern didnât acknowledge him. His pale blue eyes stayed fixed on some distant point beyond the domainâs boundaries, his attention completely absorbed by whatever signal was reaching him.
They werenât communicating with Noah. They were calling to something he couldnât hear, responding to something he couldnât sense.
Noah found a spot on the grass and sat down, crossing his legs, settling into the meditation posture Master Anng had drilled into him at the academy. If he was going to wait and observe, he might as well make use of the time.
He closed his eyes, focused inward, found his core. The white energy of chi responded immediately, familiar and warm, flowing through the pathways heâd spent time cultivating. He let it move naturally, following the major channels firstâfrom core through arms and legs, then cycling back. The minor pathways activated next, smaller streams of energy connecting everything into a cohesive network.
His blood pressure dropped. His breathing deepened. The frantic edge that had been building since he woke up to the news about Lucas and then the system notification appearing began fading, replaced by the calm focus that came from proper chi meditation.
âSlow down. Think this through properly.â
Above him, the dragons continued their circling. Noah tracked their movements through sound rather than sightâwingbeats, the occasional shriek or roar, the rush of displaced air when one of them dove before climbing again. They were still agitated but the pattern was changing. Every few minutes, theyâd pause mid-flight, hover in place, their heads tilting like they were listening to something.
Noah opened his eyes slightly, watching Storm hang motionless in the air, his body completely still except for the occasional wing adjustment to maintain altitude. The wyvernâs attention was laser-focused on something Noah couldnât perceive. Not visual, probably. Maybe auditory, though Noah heard nothing except wind and wingbeats. Could be something else entirelyâa feeling, an instinct, some sense that dragons possessed and humans didnât.
âWhatever it is, it comes and goes. They react, then calm down, then react again. Like a signal thatâs not constant. Not strong enough to make them force their way out but strong enough to keep them on edge.â
His mind drifted while chi continued circulating through his meridians. The Lucas situation. Thatâs what heâd been dealing with before the system notification pulled him here. His friend sitting on the training hall floor, locked in some kind of dissociative state, unable to process present reality.
âWhat did I actually see?â
Noah replayed the scene in his memory. Lucas in a fetal position, rocking slightly, his face buried against his knees. The crowd of Eclipse members standing at a distance, their expressions were ranging from horror to uncertainty. The way everyone had been speaking in careful implications rather than direct statements.
It happened this morning. It wasnât his fault. He didnât see. She probably spooked him.
The recruit had been running solo forms in the back corner. Lucas had entered for early training, not knowing anyone else was there. Sheâd made a soundâprobably just an exhalation from exertion, nothing threateningâand Lucas had turned around.
âAnd saw a threat that wasnât there.â
Thatâs what trauma did. It rewired threat assessment, made the brain see danger where none existed. Lucas had spent months in Arthurâs shadow dimension, alone, constantly alert for threats in a place where genuine threats probably existed. His nervous system had adapted to that environment, become hypervigilant, and now that hypervigilance was triggering in safe situations.
The recruit had spooked him. Lucasâs brain had processed "unexpected presence" as "potential threat" before his conscious mind could catch up. And whatever defensive response had started to activate, whatever Lucas had been about to do, heâd caught himself before it happened. But not before everyone saw the moment, saw him shift into combat readiness against someone who posed zero actual danger.
âSo he shut down. Dissociated completely rather than risk hurting someone. Thatâs why heâs sitting there rocking. His brain canât reconcile being safe with feeling threatened, so it just opted out of processing reality entirely.â
Noah understood it intellectually. Made sense from a psychological perspective. But understanding didnât solve the problem. Lucas was still locked in that state, and Noah had no idea how to help beyond the obviousâmake him feel safe enough to return to present awareness voluntarily.
Above, Nyx dove suddenly, plummeting toward the ground before pulling up at the last second, his flames erupting in frustration. Storm and Ivy followed, all three of them descending to lower altitude, circling maybe fifty feet up instead of the hundred-plus theyâd been maintaining.
Their heads tilted again, simultaneously, like they were all hearing the same thing at the same time.
Noah watched, counting seconds. The focused attention lasted maybe ten seconds before they resumed normal flight patterns. Still agitated, still circling, but not actively trying to reach whatever was calling them.
âItâs not constant. Comes in waves. They respond when itâs strong, calm down when it weakens.â
He let another hour pass, maintaining chi meditation while monitoring the dragons behavior. The pattern held consistentâperiods of intense focus lasting ten to thirty seconds, followed by ten to fifteen minutes of relative calm. Whatever signal was reaching them operated on irregular intervals, not strong enough or constant enough to override their bond with Noah but present enough to keep them on edge.
Eventually, Noah stood, his legs protesting slightly from sitting in meditation posture for extended time. The dragons noticed him now, their attention shifting to track his movement. Storm descended, landing twenty feet away, his head tilting in that characteristic gesture that meant he was assessing Noahâs mood.
"I know somethingâs calling you," Noah said. The dragons couldnât understand human language in any conventional sense, but tone and intent came through clearly enough. "I donât know what it is yet. But Iâm going to figure it out. Just need you to stay here for now, alright? Donât try forcing your way out. Iâll come back to check on you."
Storm chirped, the sound carrying acknowledgment if not agreement. Nyx and Ivy landed nearby, their postures relaxed but alert.
Noah activated his dimensional travel, felt reality fold around him, and emerged back in the training hall.
Most of the crowd had dispersed. The core team remainedâSophie, Diana, Kelvin, Lila, Seraleth, Sam. Theyâd spread out around the hallâs perimeter, maintaining distance from Lucas who still sat in the same position on the floor.
Lucas hadnât moved. Still rocking slightly, still locked in whatever internal space his mind had retreated to. But his posture had shifted minutely, his shoulders less tense than before. Progress, maybe. Or just physical exhaustion from maintaining that position for over an hour.
Noah crossed the training hall floor, his footsteps echoing in the mostly empty space. The team watched him approach but didnât interfere, letting him handle this however he thought best.
He stopped about five feet from Lucas, close enough to talk normally but far enough that he wasnât invading space in a way that might trigger more defensive responses.
"Hey, bro," Noah said. His tone was casual, conversational, the way heâd talk to Lucas during any normal interaction. "So Iâve been avoiding sparring with you since you got back. You noticed that?"
Lucas didnât respond, didnât look up, but Noah saw his rocking slow slightly. Listening, even if he couldnât engage yet.
"Iâve been dodging it because honestly? Iâm scared to find out if Iâm still on the same level as you or not. Deep down, I doubt it. You were already powerful before Arthur captured you. Months in that shadow dimension, pushing your lightning abilities beyond normal limits just to survive? You came back stronger." Noah paused. "Youâre probably the strongest person I know. Well, strongest good guy I know, anyway."
He chuckled, the sound genuine despite the situation. "Arthur doesnât count. Heâs a nightmare wrapped in human skin. But you? Youâre the kind of strong that actually matters. The kind that survives hell and comes back still trying to be decent."
Lucasâs fingers twitched against his knees. Small movement, barely noticeable, but Noah saw it.
"I know you went through things in that dimension that I canât imagine. Months alone, constantly alert, no idea if youâd ever get out. That does things to a person. Rewires how your brain processes threats, makes you see danger where none exists. What happened this morning?" Noahâs voice stayed level, matter-of-fact. "That wasnât you attacking someone. That was your nervous system doing what it was trained to doâidentify threats and prepare to defend. The recruit spooked you, your brain processed it wrong, and you caught yourself before anything actually happened."
He sat down on the floor, mirroring Lucasâs general posture but maintaining that five-foot distance. "Youâre safe now. The dimension is gone. Arthur canât reach you. Eclipse headquarters is secure, weâve got enhanced security protocols, and everyone here is on your side. The people in this building arenât threats. Theyâre family. Weird, dysfunctional, occasionally annoying family, but family."
Lucasâs head shifted slightly, just a fraction of movement, like he was processing the words but couldnât quite engage with them yet.
"So hereâs the deal," Noah continued. "You need to snap out of this. Because if you donât, Iâm going to have no choice but to actually kick your ass in a sparring match to prove youâre not some untouchable force of nature. And honestly? Iâd rather not face that level of humiliation. My egoâs fragile, Lucas. I need to maintain the illusion that I could maybe hold my own against you for at least a few more weeks."
Lucasâs shoulders shook slightly. Not rocking this time. Something else.
"Iâm serious," Noah said, and a smile crept into his voice. "You better snap out of this or Iâm challenging you to combat. Full contact, no holding back, in front of the entire faction. And when you inevitably wipe the floor with me, Iâll have to live with that embarrassment forever. Kelvin will make jokes. Diana will give me disappointed looks. Sophie will probably compile statistics on exactly how badly I lost. Itâll be terrible."
Lucasâs head came up slowly. His eyes were red, exhausted, but focused now. Present. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth despite everything.
"Dream on, Eclipse," Lucas said. His voice was rough, cracked from not speaking for hours, but it was him. Actually him, not whatever dissociative state heâd been locked in.
Then his eyes welled up, tears forming despite the smile, and Sophie moved first. She crossed the distance in three strides, dropped to her knees beside Lucas, and pulled him into a hug that was equal parts fierce and gentle.
Diana followed immediately, her usual reserve cracking as she wrapped her arms around Lucas from the other side. Lila was next, then Seraleth, all of them converging on Lucas in a group embrace that was messy and uncoordinated but absolutely genuine.
Lucasâs shoulders shook properly now, actual crying, the kind that came from releasing pressure that had been building for months. He buried his face against Sophieâs shoulder and just let it out while the four women held him, providing the kind of physical comfort that words couldnât touch.
Kelvin stood near the equipment storage, watching the scene with visible emotion on his face. Then he grinned, his usual humor troublesome self reasserting itself despite the tears in his own eyes.
"Damn," Kelvin said loudly enough for everyone to hear. "Look at all the love heâs getting from the girls. Maybe I should lose a few marbles too and see what happens. Iâve been traumatized as well, you know. Noahâs dancing at the academy still haunts my nightmares."
Several people laughed despite the emotional weight of the moment. Lucas actually chuckled, the sound muffled against Sophieâs shoulder but audible.
Noah stood, walked over to Kelvin, and punched him lightly on the shoulder. "Your trauma is self-inflicted from having to watch yourself in mirrors."
"Harsh but fair."
They stood there, watching the core team provide the kind of support Lucas needed, and Noah felt something settle in his chest. This was what Eclipse was supposed to be. Not just a faction, not just a military unit, but people who actually cared about each other enough to show up when things got hard.
But this peace and quiet didnât settle with him.
His mind drifted back to the domain, to three dragons circling restlessly, responding to something he couldnât hear. Whatever was calling them, whatever alpha signal was reaching across distance to summon his dragons, it was still out there. Still active. Still demanding response.
But that was a problem for later. Right now, his friend needed him present, needed the team present, and that took priority over everything else.
One crisis at a time.