POV 1: Solomon Kane – Ushuaia, Argentina

Solomon Kane moved through the narrow alleys of Ushuaia like a shadow that hadn’t quite left the war behind. The city bustled in subdued optimism—dockworkers repairing vessels, families returning from makeshift shelters, traders haggling again under the cloudy skies. But beneath it all, he felt the tension, the hush of something not finished.

He entered the temporary Neutralist Elven compound, nodding at the guards—half-elven, half-human volunteers. The world was changing faster than anyone could measure.

In the central tent, Vaelin Thorne poured over a projection of the southern polar region. The image shimmered with residual magical energy signatures—flashes of leyline ruptures, fading aftershocks of battle, and one deep crimson pulse near the old Queen Maud Land: a signal that hadn't faded since the ceasefire.

Solomon leaned in. “Still active?”

Vaelin nodded. “It’s not from Forestia. Not Elven. Not human either. Something else. Something buried.”

Solomon frowned. “You think this is the True Gate Elara mentioned?”

“No,” Vaelin replied. “I think it’s older.”

They exchanged a look that said what neither wanted to voice: that peace may have come too soon.

POV 2: Jamie Lancaster – Geneva

Jamie rubbed her arms as she stared at the projected images from Antarctica. She’d returned to her studies, resuming coursework and helping translate fragments of magical code retrieved from the Elven archives. But her mind wasn’t in it. Not really.

Her grandfather entered the room—tired, dressed in civilian clothes for the first time in years. Admiral Henry Lancaster had officially stepped down, handing command to a younger successor his son David Lancaster.

“I heard the UN Science Council is meeting about the Gate anomaly,” he said softly.

Jamie nodded. “Solomon says it’s not Elven.”

He approached, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to go back there.”

“But I have to understand it.”

They both stared at the flickering screen. Buried within the anomaly were the remains of something massive, circular… and possibly alive.

“Whatever it is,” Jamie said, “it didn’t come through a gate. It was already here.”

POV 3: Mary – Orbiting Research Station, Above Earth

Mary gazed down at Earth through the reinforced glass of the orbital observatory. Her role as the last surviving commander of the Royal Elven faction had transformed into something far stranger: ambassador, symbol, survivor.

Dyug floated beside her, strapped into the zero-g harness. He looked peaceful, eyes closed—but she could sense the tension in his aura. The stasis sickness hadn’t fully left him, nor had the visions.

“We’re not safe, are we?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Dyug opened his eyes. “No. The wars we fought were distractions. Even Elara’s invasion. We’ve been dancing over graves we never knew existed.”

Mary looked out again. “Do you still believe in peace?”

“I believe in you,” he said. “That’s enough for now.”

POV 4: Princess Dyana von Forestia – Embassy Fortress, Geneva

Princess Dyana sat in a war room adorned with Earth maps, magical constellation charts, and half-completed peace protocols. Her aristocratic faction—the last structured Elven political body on Earth—was in chaos. And yet, she felt more clarity than she had in years.

Isabella, Earth’s mage-diplomat and old friend of Solomon Kane, sat across from her.

“The ceasefire has held longer than expected,” Isabella said.

Dyana nodded. “But peace is not made in silence. It’s built with work, alliances, sacrifices.”

There was a knock. A messenger entered—human, but bearing the new mixed insignia of the Unified Earth-Elven Defense Council.

“Report from Antarctica,” he said. “We’ve lost contact with Forward Base Echo.”

Dyana stood instantly. “Was it sabotage?”

“No signs of conflict. Just… silence.”

Dyana’s blood ran cold. “The kind that comes before awakening.”

POV 5: Queen Elara – Forestia, The True Gate Complex

The massive obsidian gate loomed at the heart of a crater. Ritual circles glowed with suppressed lunar energy, but they were not stable. The very laws of Forestia bent here. It wasn’t a place of her world—it was a place within it. Older, forbidden, sacred.

High Marshal Vyelar knelt beside her, his face worn from weeks of failed attempts.

“We’ve completed the blood rites. The Eye of Luna has accepted the offering.”

Elara stared at the gate, remembering the warnings from ancient priestesses long buried.

“They sealed this place for a reason,” she said.

“Yes,” Vyelar replied. “Because they feared it would be needed one day.”

“And now,” she said, “we are that day.”

The True Gate pulsed once—dim, subtle, but undeniable.

Elara narrowed her eyes. “Send a vanguard. I want to know what lies beyond it before we march again.”

POV 6: Solomon Kane – Aboard the Recon Sub Starlance

The Starlance dove beneath the southern ocean ice shelf, gliding through submerged ruins uncovered by recent tectonic shifts. Solomon, now embedded with the Neutralist-led Recon Division, stared at the dark stone columns rising from the sea floor.

“Any of this look familiar?” asked the pilot, a blunt human woman named Reina.

Solomon shook his head. “Looks like ruins of nothing we’ve ever seen. Too symmetrical. Too… alive.”

Suddenly, the sonar blinked—one… two… seven pings.

Movement.

A dull groan echoed through the ocean, deeper than pressure should allow. Like something stretching after a long sleep.

Then he saw it—an enormous stone eye carved into a pyramid beneath the ice. Except it opened.

He felt the magic spike. Not Elven. Not human. Something else.

Then he heard a whisper—inside his mind.

“You sealed me once. You won’t again.”

POV 7: Jamie Lancaster – UN Council Emergency Session

“The artifact beneath Antarctica predates all known civilizations,” Jamie said, standing before a hall of global delegates. “Possibly older than the First Rift. It’s not Forestian. It's not Human.”

Behind her, holograms displayed the images from Starlance. The pyramid. The eye.

“The leyline eruptions, the Ravager Gate, even the invasion—these may have been symptoms. Not causes.”

“Then what’s the cause?” someone asked.

Jamie looked up.

“Something we buried. Or forgot. Or feared too much to remember.”

POV 8: Queen Elara – Forestia, True Gate Activation

The crystal towers around the True Gate glowed like suns. The priests chanted, blood spilled across runes that hadn’t been lit in ten thousand years.

Elara held up the final sigil. The air cracked.

The Gate opened—not with light—but with sound.

A low hum that made bones ache and memories rise.

And then—voices. Dozens. Hundreds.

“You summoned us. And so, we answer.”

From beyond the gate, something stepped forward.

Not Elven. Not human.

And not alone.