POV: Aria Blackthorn

The memorial stood in the center of campus, impossible to miss. White marble carved with names. Otto. Juliana. Others who'd died during the conflicts that had torn our world apart.

I traced Otto's name with my fingertips, the stone cold beneath my touch.

"You would have liked what we've built here," I whispered. "What your sacrifice made possible."

A year had passed since everything fell apart and came back together in a new shape. The Academy looked different now. Felt ...