The peace at Horizon Imperial was not a hollow one, but it was, as Alistair Cain often said, "an active state of maintenance."Six months had passed since the High Arbiter’s Gavel dissolved into stardust. To the outside world, the university was a prestigious, if slightly eccentric, Ivy-adjacent institution. To the initiated, it was the most stable supernatural anchor in the northern hemisphere. Alistair was still the Head of Security—a mortal man with a pension plan and a very sharp sense of observation. Elena was the Dean, managing the delicate balance between academic excellence and cosmic containment.But the Nexus, while stabilized, had changed. The "Liquid Sun" Elena had consumed and the "Gray Light" Alistair had wielded had left an afterglow in the university’s very stones.It was 2:00 AM on a Tuesday. Alistair was in the security booth, his feet up on the desk, reading a worn paperback. The monitors showed the usual: a stray cat near the cafeteria, a flickering light in the ph

The red gaze of the "Art Critics" felt like a cold, analytical pressure against Alistair’s ribs. To them, he wasn't a hero or a god; he was a "technical error"—a stroke of color that didn't fit the composition."The office... it's just gone," Marcus whispered, his voice cracking as he stared at the white void where the Warden’s office had been. "They didn't destroy it. They just... un-made it.""Don't look at the void," Alistair commanded, stepping in front of the students. "If you acknowledge the void, you give it permission to grow. Sarah, tell me what the pens are doing."Sarah Kim’s eyes were darting wildly. "They’re not aiming at us! They’re aiming at our connections! They’re trying to cross out the lines that link us to the campus!"One of the giant hovering pens dived again, its tip vibrating with a high-frequency hum. It moved toward Leo Vance."Leo, don't move!" Alistair shouted.Leo didn't move, but the pen didn't strike his body. It struck the ground beneath his feet, drawi

The glare of a dozen high-intensity spotlights cut through the morning mist, turning the West Gate into a stage for a siege. The Federal Bureau of Anomalous Containment (FBAC) didn't care about the beauty of the Nexus or the tragedy of the Calamity Star. To them, the "Shadow Students" were just unexploded ordnance.Alistair Cain stood at the wrought-iron gates, his hands resting on his belt. Behind him, the students—Leo, Sarah, Marcus, and the twins—were huddling near the fountain, their faces pale. Elena stood at the front, her eyes flashing with a protective, amber warning."Officer Cain!" the man with the megaphone shouted. He was Agent Miller, a man whose suit was as stiff as his ideology. "We have sensors showing a Class-9 Reality Distortion event occurred on these premises. By the authority of the Emergency Oversight Act, this facility is now a federal quarantine zone. Relinquish the 'Echo' subjects immediately."Alistair didn't open the gate. He didn't even reach for his keys.

The world didn't go dark; it went "jagged."Alistair looked at his hand and saw only a cluster of flesh-colored squares. When he tried to speak, his voice came out as a distorted, 8-bit rasp. Beside him, Elena was a shimmering mosaic of amber pixels, her Liquid Sun radiance flickering like a corrupted video file.Jin stood on his floating platform, the Master Remote glowing with a smug, purple light. Around him, the "Void-Hunters" were no longer ships—they were floating geometric shapes, stripping the university of its high-definition detail and storing it in data-vaults."You see, Alistair?" Jin’s voice was perfectly clear, the only high-fidelity sound in the dying courtyard. "Reality is just data. And data is expensive to maintain. I’m simply optimizing the campus. By the time I’m done, you’ll be a single pixel of 'Security Guard' in a world of gray static."Alistair tried to move, but his "frame rate" was dropping. Every step felt like a shuttering slide-show."Marcus..." Alistair

The Silence was a cold that didn't bite; it erased.Alistair looked at his hands and saw the edges of his fingers blurring into the gray static of the background. He looked at the library, and for a terrifying moment, he couldn't remember the word for "book." The matte-black figures—the Heralds of Silence—were drifting through the campus like ink blots on a watercolor painting, and wherever they touched, the world became a blank slate."Alistair..." Elena’s voice was thin, like a fading radio signal. "I'm... losing the Sun. It’s not being taken... I’m just forgetting how to hold it.""I know," Alistair said, his voice a gravelly rasp. "The black box was right. We’ve been keeping the fire burning, but all we did was attract the moths."He turned to the students. Marcus was staring at his hands, his technopathy failing as the very concept of "electricity" began to slip away. Leo was floating aimlessly, the law of gravity becoming a forgotten memory."Everyone! To the Ivory Tower!" Alist