​The silver bolt didn't just fly; it screamed. Through his Mana Pulse Detection, Adler saw the projectile as a streak of violet lightning aimed at Lyra’s heart.​"Brace yourself!" Adler roared.​He didn't reach for his sword. Instead, he channeled the kinetic energy stored from the Archive’s collapse into his gauntlets. He thrust his palm forward, meeting the bolt mid-air. The collision was deafening. A shockwave of redirected force shattered the projectile into glowing dust, the resulting blast wave knocking the lead Sentinel off his feet.​"Go! Now!" Adler hoisted Lyra up and ignited Void Step.​For three seconds, the world became a grey, soundless blur. They sprinted through the solid masonry of a nearby apothecary, passing through stone like ghosts. When they solidified in a damp back alley two blocks away, the thick, sulfurous fog of the industrial border shrouded them.​Lyra collapsed against a pile of rusted crates. "Adler... your hand... it’s smoking."​"It’ll heal," he said f

​A violent, violet light erupted from Adler’s hands, so intense it rivaled the gunship’s searchlights above. Zephyr flinched, his handsome face twisting in genuine shock as he watched the ragged scavenger become the epicenter of a storm. Liquid metal—the remains of the sword, the bastion mesh, and the melted ID tag—swirled around Adler in a chaotic, gravitational dance.​"What are you doing?" Zephyr roared, his composure finally cracking. He leveled his palm, mana condensing into a blinding sphere. "You’re nothing! You’re a glitch in the system!"​"I’m playing the late game, Zephyr!" Adler shouted, his voice vibrating with a metallic resonance. "And you’re about to hit a hard cap."​Just as Zephyr released a pillar of blue, incinerating flame, the sky above the industrial border was torn open by the sonic boom of an Association jump-shuttle.​"Cease fire!" High Inquisitor Claire’s voice boomed over the long-range loudspeakers, amplified by tactical mana. "Zephyr, stand down by order o

​The timer on the new terminal didn't just count down; it throbbed like a dying heart. “59... 58... 57...”​Adler gripped the cold, metallic edges of the device the mysterious woman had thrown to him. Above, the Eclipsed agents descended on wire-thin cables.​“System,” Adler rasped, his lungs protesting the thick soot. “Status of the merger?”​[Dual System Resonance: 12%...][Warning: The System of the Fallen is attempting to rewrite local mana laws!]​The first agent landed five feet away, the red light of his mask reflecting in Adler’s wide eyes. The man didn't hesitate, lunging with a vertical slash aimed at Adler's neck. Adler’s Mana Pulse Detection flashed a jagged, violent crimson. He didn't have the stamina for another Void Step, but his instincts saw the frame before it finished. He swung his left hand, the Sting of the Forsaken clicking.​“Eat this,” Adler hissed.​A toxic green bolt hissed from his forearm gauntlet. The agent tried to twist mid-air, but the Neuro-Shock proc

​The space between them felt like an offline server—dead, heavy, and absolute.​Adler did not rush. His eyes were not fixed on the obsidian gleam of the Ardhacandra Prototype, but on the stranger’s lead foot. Standard hunters watched the blade or the eyes. A professional tournament player watched the hips and the pivot point of the ankles. That was where the animation began. That was where the truth lay.​The stranger didn't take a combat stance. He simply held the rapier low, his posture loose, almost mocking.​"You're tracking my center of gravity," the stranger’s modulated voice cut through the hum of the dying fires. "Left heel slightly elevated. Preparing to slip inside the guard if I thrust."​Adler’s jaw tightened. He didn't answer.​Instead, Adler took a sudden half-step forward, his shoulder twitching as if to commit to a left-hand slash—a textbook feint designed to force an early defensive reaction.​The stranger didn't

​The hiss of the welding torch cut through the silence, casting long, fractured blue shadows against the wet concrete walls of the crawlspace. Lyra pulled her protective goggles up onto her forehead. Her face was smeared with black conductive grease, and she wiped her nose with the back of her hand, leaving a fresh streak behind.​"The connection is fused," Lyra said, her voice slightly raspy. She coughed quietly from the welding smoke before nodding toward the Sting of the Forsaken. "The military dampener is acting as a sub-routine loop. It captures your activation input, holds the mana charge for exactly 150 milliseconds, and then releases the strike animation. On paper, it works."​Adler picked up the heavy forearm gauntlet. The matte-black surface now looked slightly deformed, with a raw, unshielded copper bypass wire running crudely along the outer plating. It no longer looked like a sleek system relic—it looked like an improvised explosive device ready to det