Reincarnated as the Last Dragon Egg-Chapter 24: The cycle breaker

The word etched into the glowing cylinder still pulsed faintly:

> Cyclebreaker

Threat Level: Omega

I stared at it in silence.

Kaela moved beside me, her hand resting gently on her sword. Solin stood behind us, eyes darting between the flickering flames that lined Emberwatch’s broken walls.

"I don’t like this," Kaela murmured. "The fire’s wrong. The sky’s too still."

Neriya, perched on a crumbled parapet, whispered the truth aloud:

> "The Unwritten touched our world.

And now it’s unraveling."

---

The Broken Flame

In the days that followed, Emberwatch changed.

Small things at first:

– Fires wouldn’t stay lit.

– Spells failed mid-casting.

– Water forgot how to boil.

– Names written on paper faded after a day.

The people grew restless. Some panicked. Others prayed. The Flameborn kept to their towers, whispering to the Sunshard Core, which now flickered like a dying heartbeat.

I could feel it too—something missing.

A warmth that once wrapped around the world had been shaved away.

It wasn’t corruption.

It was erasure.

---

The Council of Wane

We gathered in the High Flamehall beneath Emberwatch’s oldest tree—once burning with life, now pale and wilting.

Kaela stood with the warriors. Neriya with the shadows. Solin with the lorekeepers. And I—alone.

Solin laid the cylinder on the stone table.

"The Unwritten is not a destroyer," he said. "It’s a librarian. It doesn’t kill. It edits. It deletes."

Kaela crossed her arms. "So how do we fight that?"

Neriya’s voice was cold. "We find the other Cyclebearers. Before the Unwritten does."

I looked up. "What are Cyclebearers?"

She met my eyes.

> "Those chosen by the other forces:

Storm. Stone. Tides. Mind. Time. Void.

The elements that once stood beside Flame—before memory burned them away."

---

The First Mark: Storm

That night, the stars pulsed again.

But not with silence.

With lightning.

From the distant eastern cliffs, a thunderbolt rose upward—into the sky, splitting clouds in unnatural angles.

A sign.

Solin gasped. "The Storm Cycle is waking."

Kaela looked at me. "Then we find it first."

"Why?" I asked.

> "Because you’re the Cyclebreaker. And now every other Cycle will either want to follow you—or kill you."

---

The Journey Begins

We left before dawn—Kaela, Solin, Neriya, and I—heading east on griffon-back toward the high cliffs of Vel’Tharun, where lightning never sleeps.

The winds grew harsh.

The air became wild.

And on the third day, the storm began speaking.

Not words.

Just raw emotion: rage, power, freedom.

We landed on the edge of a cliffside where ancient ruins crackled with static. And there—standing at the center of a shattered altar—was a figure.

Cloaked in torn stormcloth.

Eyes glowing white-blue.

Hair a thundercloud.

He turned slowly as we approached.

And spoke with a voice like thunder swallowing a scream:

> "You broke the Cycle.

And now you want mine."

---

The Stormbearer

I stepped forward.

"I’m not here to steal your Cycle. I’m here to save them."

The Stormbearer raised his hand—and the wind tore through me like knives.

> "We do not want saving. We want memory. We want revenge.

For ten thousand years, the flame dominated. The rest of us were locked away. Sealed. Forgotten.

But you... you broke the seal."

Kaela readied her blade. "Then help us."

> "Or?" he growled.

Neriya raised a blade of shadow. "Or we find someone who will."

The Stormbearer’s eyes narrowed.

Then—he laughed.

The wind stopped.

And he said:

> "Very well, Cyclebreaker. I will test you.

Survive the Storm Crucible. If you do, my power joins yours.

If you don’t—then the storm will write your name in lightning...

and erase it with thunder."

The Stormbearer raised both hands.

Lightning split the sky, not downward—but upward, tearing a path into the clouds.

A cyclone formed instantly, swirling above us like a hungry god.

> "Enter," he commanded.

Kaela reached for my arm. "Wait—what if he’s lying? What if it’s a trap?"

I turned to her. "Then I burn the storm from the inside out."

But deep down, I knew—this test wasn’t about flame.

It was about me.

So I stepped forward.

And the wind swallowed me whole.

---

Inside the Crucible

The world vanished.

No sky. No ground.

Just storm.

I stood on a single stone platform suspended in a chasm of swirling lightning and deafening wind.

Above me—clouds spun like a god’s eye.

Below—nothing. Pure falling.

The Stormbearer’s voice echoed all around:

> "Flame cannot help you here. Magic is static. Memory flickers.

In this place, only the truth of your spirit survives.

Show me who you are beneath the fire."

A lightning bolt struck the platform.

I barely rolled aside in time.

Then another. And another.

The storm was testing me.

Not my power.

My resolve.

---

The Echoes Within

I ran.

The platform shifted under my feet, breaking apart into narrow beams of stone, each swaying, some dissolving mid-step.

No flame. No light. No anchor.

And then...

Voices.

My own.

> "You failed them."

"You shouldn’t have survived."

"You think you’re different, but you’re just another cursed soul with borrowed power."

I gritted my teeth and jumped to the next platform.

Lightning struck my arm—I screamed, skidded, almost fell.

But I kept going.

---

The Stormborn

Midway through the Crucible, a figure appeared on the path.

Me.

But older.

Eyes dulled.

Cloak torn.

Hands burned to the bone.

He stood blocking the way.

> "Turn back," he said. "You don’t belong in the sky. The stars fear you. The void chose you. Let it have you."

I stepped forward. "I am not yours."

He raised a hand—and lightning ripped through my chest.

But it didn’t end me.

It awakened something.

---

Lightning Within

I fell to my knees—but my heart still beat.

The flames inside me didn’t reignite.

Instead, a new rhythm sparked through my veins.

Not fire.

Not magic.

But storm.

My eyes snapped open, glowing electric blue for a moment.

I stood.

Raised my hand.

Caught the next bolt mid-air—and redirected it.

Straight through my shadow’s chest.

He vanished.

And the storm roared in approval.

---

The Trial’s End

The cyclone above twisted tighter, forming a perfect spiral.

A final path of jagged stone led upward.

I ran. Climbed. Endured.

No voice could reach me now.

No memory could slow me.

Only movement.

Only lightning.

When I reached the peak, a final bolt came down—directly at me.

I didn’t flinch.

I opened my arms.

And let it hit.

---

Return of the Cyclebreaker

Silence.

Then...

I awoke on the cliff, coughing.

Kaela dropped to her knees beside me. "You’re alive."

Solin stood in awe. "Your core... it’s changed."

I felt it too.

Beneath the Sunshard Flame that had always burned inside me, a second pulse had formed.

Quieter.

Sharper.

Storm.

The Stormbearer stepped forward, nodding once.

> "You walked through lightning and came back standing. You are now more than flame.

You are storm-wrought.

And the Unwritten... will fear you."

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