The intense, searing white-blue light didn't just illuminate the pitch-black cellar; it seemed to sink into the very pores of Rhaevan’s skin. As the brilliance began to recede, leaving behind a soft, violet-tinted hum, Rhaevan realized the crushing weight of exhaustion that had been dragging at his limbs was gone."Holy... okay, that was a lot," Rhaevan panted, staring down at his hands. They weren't shaking anymore. In fact, they felt steady—more than steady. They felt alive. "You really did it, didn't you?"He looked down at the sword. It lay across his lap, no longer a jagged shard of forgotten history, but a masterpiece of fluid silver and pulsing starlight.[Link Established.][Physical Integrity of User: Synchronizing...][Attribute 'Vitality' increased significantly through Residue Absorption.]"Residue absorption?" Rhaevan whispered, running a hand through his hair. It felt damp, thick with sweat, yet his body felt strangely light. "Does that mean every time I fix something, I

The emissary’s lip curled, his gaze sweeping over the damp, soot-stained walls of the forge with an expression of pure unadulterated loathing. He adjusted his silver monocle, the glass glinting like a cold eye. "Busy? That’s cute, kid. Really. But the Chancellor isn't the type of guy who takes 'no' for an answer. Especially not from a summoned hero who’s supposed to be useful to the Crown."Rhaevan slowly withdrew his hand from the hidden hilt of the Morning Star, letting it rest casually on the workbench beside the gold. "You guys have a weird way of showing gratitude. One minute I'm trash being tossed into a basement, the next I'm a VIP? Make up your mind.""The market value of 'trash' has gone up," the emissary replied, waving a hand toward the guards. "Now, do we walk out of here together like civilized people, or do my friends here have to carry you out? I'm sure your back is already sore from all this... work.""Fine, fine. Don't get your tights in a twist," Rhaevan said, grabbi

The rhythmic ticking behind the vault wall accelerated into a frantic, metallic chattering. Rhaevan stood his ground, though his palms were slick against the cool, restored leather of his belt. Beside him, Elara adjusted the collar of her iridescent breastplate, the metal catching the faint violet glow emanating from Rhaevan’s skin."The frequency is changing," Rhaevan said, his voice low as he watched the stones in front of them begin to shift. "It’s not just a clock. It’s a start-up sequence.""Rhaevan, get behind me," Elara whispered, her hand moving to the hilt of her blade. "If that thing is as old as the foundation, its sensors won't recognize us. It’ll just see intruders.""Wait, look at the alignment," Rhaevan said, pointing to the gap where the dust was being sucked into the wall. "The logic in the joints is stuck. It’s grinding itself into a seizure.""Can you fix it from here?" Elara asked, her eyes darting between the widening crack and Rhaevan’s face."No," Rhaevan replie

The moment the latches clicked, the cellar ceased to be a simple workshop.The lid didn’t just open; it was forced upward by an invisible, suffocating mass. A wave of ancient gravity slammed into the room, heavy enough to make the floor joists groan and the dust on the rafters drop in flat, grey sheets. Rhaevan stumbled, his knees buckling before he braced his palms against the edge of the workbench. It felt like the air itself had turned into lead."What in the hell is in that box?" Rhaevan grunted, his lungs struggling to expand. "It feels like you’re trying to pack a whole mountain into my basement."Veyrik Deyn didn’t move, her obsidian boots seemingly rooted into the stone floor, though her golden eyes flickered with a brief, sharp tremor of uncertainty. "It is the Heart of the Abyss fragment. I told you, Artisan. It’s dying. And as it dies, its weight returns to the world.""You call this a fragment?" Rhaevan spat, his violet-hued sweat dripping onto the workbench. "The mana fre