The Nightfall Shield moved as one unit, Percy in the lead, looking like he was ready to tear someone apart.
“Director Waverly,” Percy’s voice cut through the din, commanding attention even without raising his volume. “With all due respect, this is absurd. The Ophis designation hasn’t existed since the First Crossing.”
My chest tightened. This was the moment I’d dreaded, facing not just skepticism but outright rejection.
“Jupiter Black,” Director Waverly called out, ignoring the many shield leaders who protested. “Please approach the casting stone.”
I stood, and several people gasped around me. As I walked, whispers followed me like shadows. I knew the stories they all knew. I’d grown up knowing the legend of the thirteen zodiac designations that had fled through portals when the bane overwhelmed our home worlds across the galaxies.
It was called the First Crossing, but actually, it was theonlycrossing. The original interconnected societies that had thrived through portal travel fell one by one as the soul-devouring creatures of dark matter consumed everything in their path.
Our home worlds were ancient. They were a thriving intergalactic species that was utterly wiped out, fed on and brought to the very brink of extinction. Earth was far enough away that we could hide from the brunt of it, but the bane found a way. They still slipped through their own tears in the world.
The hundreds of zodiac warriors who’d fought back in the end had eventually been forced to retreat, to run. And among them had been a single Ophis. The leader of his people from the Ophiuchus constellation. Our names had been different then, in a language long forgotten after thousands of years. But the story remained. When the bane had nearly broken through the final portal to Earth, the Ophis leader had made the ultimate sacrifice, sealing himself on the other side to buy the rest time.
His bloodline was supposed to have died with him, the serpent magic of the Ophis people lost forever. What no one knew was that a Scorpio woman had been carrying his child at the time of the crossing. That bloodline had thinned over millennia, the magic suppressed with nothing to feed it. Until me. Until somehow, the magic that had lay dormant for so long, decided to crack open an eye.
I reached the casting stone, aware of hundreds of eyes burning into my back. My hand hovered over its smooth surface.
“This is ridiculous,” Aiden’s voice rang out just paces away from me. “We can’t seriously entertain this?—“
“Touch the stone,” Director Waverly instructed, ignoring him.
I pressed my palm against the cool surface, and for a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then white light, not the blue of Aquarius or the red of Aries or the purple of Scorpio, but pure, blinding white erupted from beneath my hand. It shot upward in a column that reached the ceiling, and within it formed the ancient sigil of Ophis, a serpent devouring its own tail wrapped around a brilliant 13 pointed starburst.
The light was so intense that people shielded their eyes, gasps and cries of shock rippling through the crowd. When the light receded, the sigil remained suspended in the air above the stone, pulsing gently.
“The casting stone cannot be tricked, faked or altered,” Director Waverly stated firmly. “As I said, the Assembly has verified Ms. Black’s designation through extensive testing. Her blood is of the Ophis line, and has chosen to manifest. This is unprecedented.”
“How is it possible?” the man, Rafe, asked. No, hedemandedit, his glare cutting to me. “The last Ophis died during the crossing. This is physically impossible.”
“Not impossible,” Director Waverly said firmly. “Merely improbable.” Her gaze swept across the room, taking in the stunned faces of students and faculty alike. “There are aspects of our history that have been preserved only within the highest echelons of the Assembly.”
She stepped forward, her silver-streaked hair catching the light as she moved closer to the casting stone where I still stood, the Ophis sigil pulsing gently above me.
“When the last Ophis sacrificed himself to seal the portal during the First Crossing, he left behind more than just a legacy. A Scorpio warrior, his bond mate, crossed through to Earth carrying his child within her womb.”
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. I watched as Draco’s head snapped up, his eyes widening slightly at the mention of the Scorpio.
“This information was kept guarded, protected by those who understood the significance. The bloodline thinned over generations, the Ophis magic dormant but never fully extinguished. It waited, through centuries, for the precise genetic combination that would allow it to manifest once more.” She gestured toward me. “In Jupiter Black.”
Percy stepped forward. “If this were true, why would such critical information be withheld from zodiac families? We’ve spent generations building shields based ontwelvedesignations.”
“Because hope can be dangerous,” Director Waverly replied simply. “The Assembly chose caution over speculation. They monitored potential bloodlines but didn’t interfere, allowing nature to take its course.”
Aiden scoffed. “And we’re just supposed to accept this... disruption to the entire zodiac structure? Shields have been formed for centuries without an Ophis. We don’t need one now.”
“Yet here she stands,” Director Waverly clipped. “Verified by both Assembly testing and the casting stone itself. The magic has chosen to manifest now, at this moment in our history, and that timing cannot be coincidental.”
I lifted my chin. “I didn’t ask for this. And I’m not going to apologize for existing.” I narrowed my eyes on Percy, and he narrowed his right back.
The Ophis sigil pulsed brighter above me, as if responding to my words. Several students backed away, eyes wide.
“Ms. Black has been training with the Assembly for three years since her manifestation,” Director Waverly continued. “She has fought the bane hand to hand, and has earned her place here as much as any of you.”
“That remains to be seen,” Percy said coldly. “A casting stone can be fooled by powerful enough magic. The Assembly has been wrong before.”
Rafe nodded in agreement. “We should see what she can do before we accept any claims about a thirteenth.”
