The Great Bridge of the Black Spires was no longer a bridge. It was a collection of floating stones, drifting in a sky that had turned a sickly, bruised purple. Below, the Endless Fall lived up to its name. There was nothing but mist and the cold promise of death.In the center of this floating graveyard, Drogo Payne stood over the remains of Inquisitor Magnus.The giant was gone. The man who had been as wide as a carriage and as heavy as a mountain was now a small, crumpled ball of Star-Lead armor. Drogo’s final punch had not just broken the man; it had folded the space around him. The lead armor was crushed so tightly that it looked like a gray stone.Drogo reached down. His hand was no longer a hand. It was a claw of obsidian, glowing with a deep, pulsing violet light. He did not feel pity. He did not feel sad.[HUMANITY: 0.1%]The numbers in his mind were small. They were a tiny, flickering candle in a world of absolute winter.Drogo’s fingers dug into the crushed chest of the a

The Capital City of Solara was a place that did not know the meaning of the word "dark." Even at night, the city glowed like a pile of fallen stars. Huge crystals of Sun-Amber were set into every street corner. The walls were made of white stone and gold, and they reflected the light until the air itself seemed to sparkle. High above the ground, the floating palaces of the Lords and the High Masters hummed with power. They looked like giant, golden ships sailing in a sea of blue air.It was a city of perfect order. It was a city of perfect light. But today, the light was failing.Drogo Payne stood on a jagged peak of rock just three miles from the Great Golden Walls. He was no longer a boy. He was no longer even a Revenant. He was the Singularity. He stood eight feet tall, a thin, sharp silhouette of absolute black. His skin was made of obsidian that did not just look dark, it seemed to pull the light from the air and delete it. His Void-Ribbons flowed behind him, twenty feet of sh

The Golden Hour of Solara usually lasted forever. In the Upper City, the sun never truly set because the floating palaces were positioned to catch the light at all times. The streets were lined with Ever-Bloom flowers that smelled like expensive perfume. The nobles who lived there did not walk on the ground.They hovered inches above the white marble using Float-Charms. They did not know what mud felt like. They did not know what hunger tasted like. But today, the Golden Hour was replaced by the Purple Shadow.The message in the sky: GIVE ME THE GIRL. OR I EAT THE SUN, was still there. The black smoke had not blown away. It was pinned to the atmosphere by Drogo’s gravity, a giant, terrifying reminder that the world had changed.Inside the High District, the silence of shock had turned into the scream of panic."Pack the gold! Leave the furniture!" Lord Valen barked.He was a thin man with a mustache that was waxed into sharp points. He was a Gem-Mage, famous for making jewelry that

The Great Golden Gates of Solara were gone. Drogo Payne had turned them into a memory of dust. Now, he stood at the entrance of the most beautiful city in the world.Solara was not just a place where people lived. It was a temple. Every stone had been blessed by a thousand mages. Every street was made of Holy Marble, a white stone that stayed warm even in the winter and glowed with a soft, golden light at night. The air in the city was always sweet, smelling of honey and expensive incense. To a normal person, walking into Solara felt like walking into a dream.To Drogo Payne, it felt like walking into a furnace.Drogo was the Singularity. He was eight feet of absolute darkness. His obsidian skin was so black that it looked like a hole in the air. His Void-Ribbons moved behind him like the tails of a deep-sea monster. He was the opposite of everything Solara stood for. He was the wrong in a world of right.As he took his first step past the ruined gates, the city reacted.Solara had

The Black Spires did not look like the rest of the Empire. While the Capital City was made of white marble and gold, the Spires were made of a stone that looked like frozen smoke. They were five massive towers, sharp as needles, stabbing into the sky. They were surrounded by a wall of black iron that was fifty feet high. This was the heart of the Academy. This was where the smartest and most dangerous mages in the world lived. It was a fortress within a city, a place where secrets were kept in the dark so the rest of the world could stay in the light.Drogo Payne stood in front of the Great Iron Gates of the Academy. He was no longer the boy who had lived in a wooden shack. He was ten feet tall. His skin was polished obsidian, reflecting nothing. His eyes were two pits of absolute blackness. He stood in the middle of the road, and the air around him was screaming. The Abyssal Light radiating from his body was so strong that the grass near his feet turned to ash instantly.[OBJECT