The silence was terrifying.With the Beacon suppressed, the forest felt dead. The usual hum of Aura was gone, replaced by a faint, static haze. His Aura Sight barely reached fifty feet. He couldn’t sense the life in the trees, the small mutants scurrying, or the hidden streams. He was running blind.The Citadel’s heartstone in his pocket was the only anchor, a tiny, warm echo of stability in the void.He moved fast, leaping gullies and crashing through underbrush. The plan was simple: get deep into the Sundered Vale, find defensible ground, and turn the hunter’s killing field into a slog. Seventy-two hours. He just had to last.The forest changed. The trees were stunted and twisted. The ground was rocky, lined with jagged, glass-like Aura crystals, scars of the cataclysm that had sundered this place. The air tasted of ozone and metal.He was close.He slid down a steep slope, landing in a narrow canyon, the only mapped entrance to the Vale. The walls rose hundreds of feet, striated wi

Draven ran deeper into the crystal forest. Behind him, the hunter’s furious scream tore through the dead air. She was no longer calm or controlled. She was angry and hurt, and he was the reason.His body was failing. The Adrenal Refinement inside him flickered like a dying star. Every breath stabbed his cracked ribs. His left arm hung uselessly. His Terrain Comprehension still showed him streams of dangerous energy around him, but his body could not keep up.The hunter’s heavy footsteps grew louder. She was injured, but she was still a B Grade fighter. She had more energy, more training, and more willpower than he could imagine.He spotted a structure ahead. It was not natural. It looked like the fallen entrance to one of the Vale’s ancient bone shaped buildings. A tunnel led downward, half blocked by rubble. It was a dead end but also the only safe cover.He dove inside just as a blast of blue energy hit behind him. The explosion shook the entrance, dropping dust and strange bone chi

Draven did not run toward the main gates. He slipped through the burnt forest like a ghost, hiding in the deepest shadows. The System texts kept repeating in his mind: Return to the Citadel. The Custodian is waiting. He reached the outer ruins around the Citadel walls. The usual scavengers were gone. The air felt too still.He spotted a figure on a collapsed fire escape. Grey armor, a long rifle, perfect posture. Not a Citadel Warden. A scout.Draven hid behind a rusted dumpster. With his Aura suppressed, he had to rely only on his eyes.The scout stared east toward the main gate. They expected him to return like a hero, loud and obvious.Wrong.Draven moved west at a low run. He knew a small crack in the foundation near the old drainage culvert. He and Silas had used it before. It was filthy and tight, but almost unknown.He slipped into the Citadel quietly, entering the lower storage levels. The familiar smells of oil, damp concrete, and too many people filled the air.He needed to

The Citadel no longer felt like home. It felt like a giant cage where anything could explode. The silence was the worst part. No one spoke above a whisper. Parents held their children close. People looked at Draven with one desperate message in their eyes. Do not get us killed.He stood with the Captains in the strategy room. It was small, quiet and deep inside the command tower. Everyone looked tense.Marcus paced back and forth. “We need to find those drones. We search everywhere.”Liana rubbed her temples. “If we do that, everyone will panic. A stampede could trigger the bombs. That is exactly what he wants. We have to stay calm. We follow his game.” She sounded disgusted.Draven stared at a blank screen. “It is not a game. He is studying how we think when we are afraid.”Elara looked pale but steady. “He gave us his files. The weakness analysis. It is real. He knows our food stores are low. He knows which walls were damaged by the Juggernaut. He knows Warden Kael panics about his

The Citadel held its breath. Six hours ticked down. Draven stood alone in the command center, staring at the message on the small, grey comms device.Custodian: Foundry Pit. Now. No drones, no tricks. Just you and me. The final data point. Five minutes.No threats. Just a summons. Somehow, that was worse.Draven walked out without saying goodbye. Liana caught his arm at the door.“It’s a trap,”she said, her voice low.“Probably,”Draven replied. “But it’s the last one. I’m ending this.”He stepped into the Foundry Pit. The air was still and cold. The glassy ground from the Juggernaut’s death crunched under his boots.The Custodian was already there. No soldiers. No weapons. Just him, dressed in his simple grey clothes, his hands empty.“Subject Ashford,” he said. His voice was calm, almost friendly. “Thank you for coming.”“Cut the act,”Draven said, stopping a few paces away. “What’s the final test?”“A fight,”the Custodian said, spreading his hands. “You and me. No interruptions. I wa