The subterranean air was a stagnant slurry of ozone and damp, pulverized concrete. Bastian leaned against the jagged bulkhead, his chest heaving. The silence that followed the collapse of the deletion realm was heavy, a suffocating weight that pressed against his eardrums. Beside him, Camila slid down the slick, obsidian-flecked wall, her breath coming in ragged, desperate gasps. Her sword, once an elegant tool of war, was now nothing more than a notched, dull piece of steel. “So,” Camila said, her voice rough, the sound scraping against the quiet. “That was… something.” Bastian could only manage a slow, rhythmic nod, the effort of speech feeling like an impossible toll on his waning stamina. He looked down at his hands. They were still raw, the skin angry and inflamed from the sheer volume of Aether he’d been forced to channel. The violent violet glow had long since faded, but a deep, resonant thrumming

The rain in the lower districts didn’t fall like it did in the upper spires; it was greasy, shimmering with iridescent pollutants that clung to the cobblestones like a toxic skin. Bastian wiped a smear of grime from his forehead, his Sight struggling to filter the visual noise of the slums. Every neon sign, every flickering street lamp, and every piece of discarded tech seemed to be humming with a low-frequency broadcast a constant, droning propaganda feed from the Academy. “We’re getting close,” Camila muttered, ducking under a dripping clothesline. “The Kaelia contact said the entrance was behind the old filtration plant. If this is another dead end, Bastian, I’m going to start charging you for the shoe leather.” Bastian allowed himself a weary smirk. “You’re the one who wanted a revolution, Camila. Revolutions aren’t known for their comfortable footpaths.” 

The blast door exploded outward, not into the hallway, but into a shower of sparks and shrapnel as Bastian forced it to fold in on itself. He didn't wait for the dust to settle, nor for the bewildered shouts of the soldiers on the other side to fully register. He charged into the chaos, Camila a fierce shadow at his side, her sword whistling through the thick air. Beyond the hallway, the sound of an entire imperial army echoed, its magnitude shaking the very foundations of the city, but Bastian didn’t flinch. His eyes burned with the cold, golden light of a system that was about to be overwritten. The initial wave of Academy soldiers, caught off guard by the sudden implosion of their reinforced door, recoiled. Their synchronized formation shattered, a momentary lapse that Bastian instantly exploited. “They’re confused!” Camila shouted, parrying a spear thrust with a clang that rang through the narrow space. “Hit