​Zane did not take a car. He was operating at 70% Core Power, and the Temporal Shift (Lv. 2) was his only way to traverse the city's chaotic streets in seconds. He focused his mind, pushing the limits of the mortal shell.​Temporal Shift: Full Activation.​The city blurred into streaks of light and color. The cars became slow-moving obstacles, the people frozen snapshots of motion. In the space of three breaths, Zane had covered three miles, arriving at the deserted East Wing Student Union—the site of his original humiliation and now the stage for his most critical battle.​The area was silent, eerily devoid of the police presence one would expect after the Museum heist. The silence confirmed Zane's dread: This was an Obsidian Hand operation designed to be unnoticed.​He burst through the main doors, his eyes immediately locking onto the primary energy signature: Liya. She was standing in the center of the vast, dusty lounge—the very spot where he had scrubbed wine stains just days ag

​Liya Chen drove a borrowed, nondescript utility van—one of the Chen family’s logistics vehicles—at terrifying speeds through the deserted industrial roads toward Warehouse 7. Zane lay inert on the passenger seat, his body unnaturally still, wrapped in a blanket salvaged from the back. The silence in the van was broken only by Liya’s ragged breathing and the distant wail of emergency sirens heading toward the Student Union.​I broke him. The thought hammered at her. She wasn't processing the god-war; she was processing the shock of her own, accidental violence. She had aimed for control, and she had achieved utter, devastating destruction.​"Hold on, Zane," she muttered, gripping the wheel until her knuckles were white. "We're almost there. You said this was the only place."​The Commander's Last Command​Zane’s mind was a black, chaotic void. His consciousness was reduced to a flicker—a single core process fighting the systemic failure of his mortal body.​[Host: Zane (Ares)]​[Core