She died mid-sentence while telling me I was just a friend

Got it — no more mention of Bulgaria or the world. We'll keep the focus strictly within the dimensional framework of your story. Here's the corrected version of the Chapter 7 intro with that in mind:

Chapter 7 — The Seventh Trumpet

It had been seven days since Sasho vanished from their lives.

Seven days since the training ended — and their powers evolved beyond anything they thought possible.

But none of them felt ready.

Because the silence Sasho left behind was louder than any war drum.

Kalin's body now radiated pressure like a generator barely contained. His Reflective Core had grown stronger — more durable. He could absorb more intense elemental forces than ever before, holding them inside like a bomb waiting to be released.

Plamen had tapped into a deeper state of Momentum Ignition. His strikes carried explosive power, breaking through reinforced barriers. When he charged, the very air trembled.

Simeon's blade danced with precision. Not just one perfect slash — now every movement flowed like art. The Golden Ratio wasn't a limit anymore; it was his rhythm. His harmony.

Misho's Soulprint had reached new levels. He could now scan more souls each day, even from afar — as long as he had touched them once. He no longer needed contact. He could observe from a distance, track, analyze… even sense threads between souls — a map of fate forming in his mind.

They met again.

Not to fight.

But to breathe.

Snow fell lightly around them as they gathered on the ridge of Kartala — the edge of the known dimension. Below them, the last signs of their familiar realm stretched far… but none of them looked down.

Because something was wrong.

"I can't feel him," Plamen said.

"Me neither," Kalin added, arms folded. "It's like… he's been erased."

M

"No," Misho said quietly. "He hasn't."

He knelt, placing one hand to the icy ground. Closed his eyes.

"Soulprint — extended scan."

Lines sparked into his vision. Faint soul threads — some soft and warm, others flickering with potential.

And then — one thread.

Jagged. Distant. Twisted.

Familiar.

"Sasho."

"Where is he?" Simeon asked.

"He's not in this dimension," Misho muttered. "Not even close."

"What… does that mean?"

Misho's voice darkened.

"He's somewhere deeper. A sealed pocket dimension… hidden between layers of existence."

"He's hiding between the cracks of reality."

Before anyone could speak, the sky ripped open.

No sound. No light.

Just a quiet tearing — like the rules of space themselves were violated.

And they fell.

No sensation. No gravity. Just pure descent — not down, but inward.

Then a glowing path appeared beneath them — suspended in the black void.

It shimmered white like a crack in glass, stretching forward into nothingness.

They landed hard. Dizzy. Dazed.

"I don't like this," Gergana whispered.

"Stay together," Misho warned.

Then—

Emily screamed.

Dark shadows slithered up her ankles — alive, corrosive, eating through her body with terrifying speed.

"No— no, help me!" she cried, clawing at the ground.

Plamen tried to lunge, but the shadows burned even air itself.

Emily let out one final scream.

And then… she was gone.

Vaporized.

A voice echoed in the distance.

Twisted. Broken. Familiar.

"There you are, Plamen.

I've been waiting for you."

The shadows parted.

A figure emerged.

Sasho.

But different. Eyes hollow. Smile distorted.

"Welcome to the Fourth Dimension," he said.

"My creation. A pocket realm between everything and nothing."

"A place outside the rules."

Plamen growled and launched himself forward, fists glowing.

But he never reached him.

In a flash of Sonido, Sasho vanished and reappeared in the air striking Plamen with light-speed force.

Plamen's body was launched away ripped through dimensional space and landed violently back on the outer edge of Kartala.

Alone.

The moment Plamen vanished, the group froze.

No one could process what just happened — not fast enough.

But Sasho… he wasn't finished.

"He was just the beginning," Sasho said, his voice echoing from every direction at once.

"Now let's see how well you all do… when you're alone."

He vanished again — Sonido flaring like lightning.

And the darkness moved.

A pulse of energy erupted from Sasho's body like a detonation of silence.

No sound. No fire. No light.

Just pure, raw dimensional force.

The white path beneath their feet shattered into a thousand glowing shards, and the group was thrown in every direction — like seeds cast into the wind.

Kalin and Misho crashed into cold pavement.

A skyline of panel blocks stretched above them.

The scent of smoke. The hum of distant traffic.

Pishmana.

Misho groaned, blinking the fog from his eyes. Kalin was next to him, unconscious but breathing.

They were back… but not whole.

Simeon, Gergana, and Victoria landed hard beside a rusted fence and an empty schoolyard.

The area buzzed with unnatural stillness.

No people. No light.

Triugulnika.

Gergana coughed, curled on the ground. Simeon helped her up while scanning the horizon.

"Where… are we?"

Victoria looked around in awe and fear.

None of them had answers.

But something in the air felt off — like the dimension had followed them here.

Back at Kartala…

Plamen sat in the snow.

His chest ached. His head spun.

But he wasn't alone.

"Ivet?" he asked.

She sat beside him, trembling.

"…Yeah. I'm here."

They were the only ones left.

No Sasho.

No Emily.

No answers.

Just two souls in the cold — staring out at a broken skyline that wasn't supposed to feel this empty.

The Seventh Trumpet had sounded.

The group was shattered.

And the game had only just begun.