Lukas slept poorly.

  Inside the Tower, time seemed to drip like melting ice between one’s fingers. The walls pulsed with ancient magic… but that night, what disturbed him wasn’t the Tower.

  It was the echo.

  An ancient sound. Familiar. A voice he couldn’t name… but felt.

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  — “Chosen…”

  He turned in bed, sweating. A faint creak. His heartbeat racing.

  — “This style… you’ve used it before.”

  Lukas panted in the dream.

  Training with a wooden gladius, bare feet on the cold floor. A faceless silhouette watched him.

  — “Don’t invent. Feel. Cut. Defend. Live.”

  He struck. Missed. Bled.

  And before waking, he heard:

  — “You will learn. When it’s too late.”

  Lukas woke.

  His hands ached. The wooden gladius lay beside him.

  But he didn’t remember falling asleep with it there.

  Nor training.

  He only knew he had to train now.

  Without saying a word.

  Without understanding why his legs trembled.

  Or why his eyes burned, as if someone had called him by a forgotten name.

  End of the Extra Chapter.