Clive shot through the blinding virtual sky. His left arm, now transformed into a blazing Saw Blade engulfed in dark violet flames, howled with bloodlust. His absolute synchronization with Lycus had pushed his speed inside this digital world beyond the limits of physics."DIE, YOU BASTARD!" Clive roared as he swung the biological saw straight for the neck of Benedict's colossal being of light.The fifty-meter golden giant did not even blink.Benedict simply raised a single glowing index finger and flicked Clive away like an annoying fly.BOOM!The collision between Void fire and the pillar of pure light unleashed a shockwave that shattered the virtual space. Clive was launched backward like a bullet, crashing into the digital ground and carving a massive trench across it."You still fight like a stray dog enraged because someone stole its bone, Cassian," Benedict's gigantic voice thundered across the white heavens. "You believe you're a prince robbed of his birthright. You believe you

The collapse of the God-Engine should have marked the end of Lumeria's miniature apocalypse.Instead, the silence after Clive's victory lasted only five seconds.[LEVEL SIX WARNING! PLANETARY-SCALE DISASTER!]WREN's purple display erupted with frantic warnings across Clive's vision."What now?!" Clive snarled.Between the two shattered halves of the fallen God-Engine lay its Core, a chamber forged from transparent crystal. Suspended within it floated a sphere of pure white energy the size of a truck, blazing brighter by the second. Its light pulsed erratically, its temperature climbing exponentially until the marble floor around it vaporized into gas.[Threat Analysis: Benedict Archibald linked his biological heartbeat to Lumeria's Main Reactor. The destruction of the God-Engine has triggered the Self-Destruct Protocol. The reactor is a miniature stellar fusion core. Time until nuclear detonation: 30 seconds.]Clive's black eyes widened."A suicide bomb..." he whispered.Benedict had

"Move it! Get those sacks of wheat loaded! I want us back at the hideout before the rest of those guard dogs show up!" the scar-faced man shouted as he watched his men loot the relief camp."Put the sacks down."The voice wasn't loud, but its calm carried a threat so absolute that every raider froze.The scar-faced man turned, frowning. From the mouth of a ruined alley, a young man walked toward them. He wore a tattered gray hooded cloak. His gait was slightly uneven. His left arm was wrapped in bandages up to the elbow, leaving only burned, scar-covered fingers exposed."Who the hell are you? Looking to die playing hero?!" The scar-faced man raised his rifle and aimed it squarely at Clive's chest.The refugees around them held their breath. Several mothers covered their children's eyes.Clive stopped five steps away.He didn't raise his hands in surrender. He didn't summon Saw-Blade.Instead, he slowly lifted his right hand and pulled back his hood.The morning sunlight illuminated h

One month had passed since the day the sky collapsed and the apocalypse was stopped by a pair of burned hands.It was a short span of time, yet for those who survived, that single month marked the beginning of a new era unlike anything ever recorded in the world's history.No longer did the Upper City float proudly above the clouds.No longer did the Lower City breathe beneath endless clouds of industrial smoke.The landmass of Lumeria, now embedded into part of Onyxspire's crater, was gradually being rebuilt.The ruins of the White Palace had been cleared away.Upon the scar left behind by the explosion, a new kind of architecture was beginning to rise. It was neither dazzling white marble pillars nor dark shacks made of rusted sheet metal. Instead, the new buildings were forged from both, white marble supported by sturdy black Aetherium steel.A city born from light and shadow.A city that had finally accepted that neither could exist without the other.Inside a modest room on the o

The streets of Aethelgard in the late afternoon were a carefully organized chaos.Steam whistles from the city's water treatment plants blended with the cries of street vendors selling grilled meat and fresh wheat bread. Former Lumerian nobles, now forced to make a living as cloth merchants, argued fiercely with former Onyxspire gangsters over the price of a bolt of silk. Their veins bulged with anger, yet no one reached for a weapon.Amid the bustling streets, Finn staggered forward.The wooden crate filled with Aetherium cores on his back grew heavier with every step. The canvas straps dug into his left shoulder through the thin cotton of his shirt."Damn it... I should've asked Old Man Kaelen for a handcart," Finn muttered, wiping the stinging sweat from his temple.To save time, he turned into Iron Alley, a narrow passage left over from old Onyxspire architecture, squeezed between two towering marble buildings. The alley was dark, damp, and lined with leaking steam pipes that hiss