The Federal High Court was packed to the absolute brim. Reporters, city officials, and syndicate leaders crowded the gallery, murmuring anxiously as armed guards lined the aisles.At the defense table, Michael sat in a sharp dark suit, serene and completely unbothered, with Serena at his side. Across the aisle, Ashley Vance sat smugly beside his battery of top-tier attorneys. Dustin sat next to his father, his face pale, staring intensely across the courtroom—not at Michael, but directly at Rebecca, who sat in the front row of the gallery.Judge Harrison, a grey-haired man with a terrifying reputation for strictness, slammed his gavel down.BANG! BANG!"Order in the court!" Judge Harrison boomed. "We are here for the emergency petition filed by Vance Enterprises against Mr. Michael Oliver regarding corporate high treason and asset theft. Defense counsel, how do you plead to these heavy allegations?"Michael rose smoothly, adjusting his cuffs. "Not guilty, Your Honor. In fact, Vance En

The rain fell in black, greasy sheets over Sector 9, washing the chemical grime of the upper city down into the rusted iron gutters of the Low Quarter. Dustin pulled his heavy leather coat tightly around his shoulders, his boots sinking into the thick mud as he walked deeper into the labyrinth of forgotten tunnels beneath the city's power grid. His eyes were wild, rimmed with red, and sunken from days without sleep. He stopped in front of a heavy, unmarked steel door at the end of a alley. He raised a heavy brass pipe and struck the metal three times, paused, and struck it twice more. A small slit in the iron door slid open, revealing a pair of glowing, yellow eyes. "State your business, stray," a harsh, unnatural voice hissed from behind the door. "I brought the key," Dustin said, his voice flat, hollow, and drained of humanity. He reached into his coat and pulled out a heavy velvet pouch, holding it up into the dim streetlamp light. The iron bolts clicked, and the heavy door sl

The thunder clapped like a cannon directly over the courtyard of Tower 01. The rain poured down in relentless waves, turning the open stone grounds into a slippery battleground.Dustin Vance stood twenty yards from the shattered gates, his black coat soaked through. Black, liquid shadows hissed off his skin, and his pitch-black eyes burned with unholy Void magic. Behind him, thirty heavily armed Shadow Syndicate mercenaries stood with automatic magic-rifles raised, their dark armor humming with stolen energy.The heavy main doors of Tower 01 opened slowly.Michael Oliver walked out into the pouring rain. He wore his dark coat, stepping forward with unhurried, measured steps. Serena walked two paces behind him, her sidearm drawn and ready, her eyes locked on the mercenary front line.Dustin threw his head back and let out a dark, mocking laugh that echoed over the pounding rain."You actually walked out here, Michael!" Dustin shouted, his voice layered with a demonic growl. "I thought

The rain was still falling when Dustin arrived at the Deep-Void Detention Center—a sprawling, windowless fortress built miles away from the city's main power grid.Because of his newly acquired shadow abilities, Dustin didn't break down the doors or fight the guards outside. He simply melted through the iron security gates like smoke, slipping through the damp stone corridors completely unnoticed.Down in the subterranean holding level, the air was freezing. Anti-magic wards hummed along the walls, designed to suppress every trace of mana.Inside the very lowest cell, sitting on a bare concrete bench, was Ashley Vance.In just twenty-four hours, the former billionaire looked twenty years older. His hair was messy, his pristine suit was torn, and heavy iron restraints bound his wrists and ankles to the stone floor. Without his wealth and position, he looked small, withered, and completely defeated.Dustin stepped out from the shadows near the heavy cell bars, his dark hood pulled low.

The underground hideout beneath Sector 9 smelled of damp stone, old iron, and stale blood. Dustin Vance sat on a cracked concrete block, his heavy leather coat wrapped tightly around his shoulders. He stared down at his trembling hands, watching faint red sparks flicker beneath his fingernails. He didn't feel a single drop of remorse for plunging half the city into darkness. He didn't care about the frozen streets, the panicked citizens, or the ruined power grid. None of that mattered to him. All he wanted was to reclaim Vance Global and break his father out of the federal penitentiary. Sitting across from him at a rusted metal table was Vector, the grizzled, scar-faced leader of the syndicate. Vector took a slow drag from his cheap cigarette, blowing a cloud of thick gray smoke into the air while shaking his head in disbelief. "You're playing a fool's game, kid," Vector grumbled, tapping his ash onto the floor. "You really think throwing a tantrum with the city's power grid is