The rain in the Rust-Sinks was a cocktail of industrial grease and acidic mana-runoff. It fell in heavy, gray sheets, sizzling against the rusted corrugated metal of the slums. For the residents of the "Lower Tiers," this was life: breathing the dregs of the wealthy who lived in the Aurelian Spires above.Jaxen stood in a dead-end alley, his boots submerged in a puddle of iridescent sludge. He wasn’t looking at the grime. He was looking at the six men blocking his exit.They were "Silver-Grade" Enforcers, dressed in high-end mana-weave tactical suits that shimmered with a protective blue hue. In their hands, they held Phase-Blades—crystalline swords that drew power directly from the city’s grid. To a normal person, a single one of these men was a walking natural disaster. To Jaxen, they were just a noisy distraction.“The Lady Seraphina is a very patient woman, Jaxen,” the leader of the group said. His name was Thorne, a man whose face was scarred by over-channeling fire magic. “But e

In a high tower far above Jaxen’s cell, a room bathed in flickering emerald light hummed with forbidden machinery. Master Vor, the Valerius family’s High Inquisitor, leaned over a scrying basin. The water’s surface showed a grainy, heat-mapped image of Jaxen sitting in his cell."Impossible," Vor whispered, his fingers twitching. "The boy should be a puddle of melted organs after a session with the Lady Seraphina."Vor was a Level 60 Seer. His job was to ensure no "trash" brought into the Spire carried hidden daggers or seditious thoughts. For two hours, he had watched Jaxen. He had seen the way the "waste-mana" entered the boy's body. It didn't burn him; it settled into him like water into a sponge."There is a ripple in his soul," Vor muttered, casting a deep-scan spell. "A void where a core should be. But voids don't grow. Voids don't... breathe."Suddenly, on the surface of the water, the heat-mapped version of Jaxen turned his head. He looked directly into the "camera" of the scr

Jaxen awoke to the rhythmic, metallic drip-hiss of a leaking steam pipe. His vision was a blurred mess of flickering green emergency lights and shadows. Every muscle in his body felt as if it had been shredded and stitched back together with jagged wire.[System Reboot: 100% Complete.] [Host Status: Critical Fatigue. Level: 55.] [Passive Regeneration Active: 0.5% HP per hour.]"Finally," a woman’s voice echoed through the gloom. "I thought your heart had actually turned into a vacuum. It was beating so slowly I nearly used you as a footstool."Jaxen forced himself to sit up. He was in a subterranean bunker, far cruder than the Valerius Spire but far more advanced than the Sinks. The walls were lined with monitors displaying scrolling lines of ancient, non-mana code—the kind of logic that predated the current magical empire.His rescuer stood by a workbench, cleaning a jagged prosthetic arm. She was lithe, with hair dyed a shock of neon blue and eyes covered by a high-tech visor. She w

The Spires were no longer symbols of hope; they were pillars of panic. Following the Plaza massacre, the Valerius household had retreated behind "Level 10 Spectral Wards"—shimmering curtains of light designed to vaporize anyone without a Valerius bloodline.Jaxen didn't need a key. He didn't even need a weapon.He stood at the base of the Aurelian Spire, his new "Null-Fibre" cloak fluttering in the wind. Above him, Interceptor Drones swarmed like angry hornets.[System Notification: Spectral Wards Detected.] [Frequency: High-Density Solar. Analysis: Impossible to penetrate for Mana-Users.] [Void Suggestion: Consume.]Jaxen placed his palm against the shimmering barrier. The moment his skin touched the light, the ward screamed—a high-pitched magical feedback that shattered windows for three blocks. But instead of being vaporized, Jaxen acted as a ground. The golden energy flowed into him, turning his veins into lines of glowing violet.The ward didn't just break; it dissolved, leaving

Lord Valerius stared at the dust of his ancestral staff as it slipped through Jaxen’s fingers. The silence in the Throne Room was absolute, broken only by the whimpering of the advisors who had crawled into the corners like beaten dogs."You... you are a monster," Valerius hissed, his voice trembling. "The world will not stand for this. The other Spires—The Iron Duchy, the Lunar Sect—they will see what you are. They will burn Xylos to the ground to kill you!""Let them watch," Jaxen said.He moved so fast the air itself shrieked. He grabbed Valerius by the golden breastplate and slammed him into the throne. The impact shattered the mana-crystal seat, sending shards flying like diamonds.[Skill Activated: Soul-Rend.] [Siphoning the Valerius Bloodline...]Jaxen didn't kill him instantly. He reached into the man’s soul and began to pull. The golden mana that gave Valerius his youth and strength was dragged out in shimmering, agonizing strands. The Chancellor’s skin began to wrinkle; his