Chapter 88
Author: HeemaZee
last update2026-05-20 23:01:21

The vacuum didn't just feel empty; it tasted like the death of a trillion dreams. As Vann slipped through the firewall of the Loom, reality folded in on itself like scorched parchment. Gravity vanished. There was no ship, no rebellion, and no Freya—only the suffocating, brilliant silence of a white-out horizon.

Vann drifted. His obsidian skin felt brittle, shedding like dry leaves. He wasn't floating; he was being processed. Memory shards, jagged and sharp, pierced his consciousness as if his o
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    The training yard at Aethelgard wasn't built for a king, nor a god. It was a sun-baked expanse of hard-packed earth and splintered wood, surrounded by the murmur of hundreds of students who smelled like over-privileged arrogance and too much mana-perfume."Looks like a circus act, doesn't it?" Lucas said. He was a second-year senior with broad shoulders and the sneer of someone who’d spent his entire life being told he was the top predator. He tapped his training rapier against his palm, the blade glinting in the morning glare. "A commoner and his toy."Vann stood opposite him. He held a basic iron-wood practice sword. It was heavy, poorly balanced, and felt like a twig compared to the weight he used to manifest with a flick of his will. His breath hitched in the thin air, a reminder that his heart was fighting for every beat in this body. Beside him, in the shadow of the rack, Freya leaned against a post. She looked indifferent, but her fingers were tapping a rest

  • Chapter 104

    The infirmary bed was an alien construct of foam and stale cotton that mocked Vann’s memory of cloud-cushioned nebulae. He attempted to roll out, his intention to stand tall with his usual, calculated fluidity. Instead, his muscles rebelled, turning to wet noodles. Gravity—simple, pathetic, unrelenting gravity—snagged him mid-roll, sending him face-first onto the cold, unforgiving floorboards. The sound of his tumble was pathetic. He lay there, his cheek pressed against the dust-mote-choked wood, staring at the baseboard with the dull, burning humiliation of a titan reduced to a toddler. Freya, sitting in the lone chair nearby, didn’t rush to pick him up. She just stared, her fingers playing with the strap of her borrowed civilian-grade watch. Her gaze was soft, lacking the edge of an Arbiter’s, yet heavy with the pity she knew would trigger his temper."Getting the hang of being meat-heavy, aren't we?" she murmured, her voice laced with that infuriating, gentle warmth."Shut up," V

  • Chapter 103

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  • Chapter 102

    The clocktower groaned, a dying giant losing its mechanical heart. Above them, the swirling abyss—the literal Eye of The Outer One—began to collapse, hemorrhaging starlight and static onto the ravaged rooftops of Aethelgard. Aris was a crumpled husk at their feet, his grip on reality dissolving alongside the shadow-constructs he had unleashed.Vann wiped a smear of blood from his jaw with the back of his hand, his breathing heavy and erratic. His lungs burned, his muscles were shredded, and he felt every agonizing vibration of his mortal existence. Yet, standing beside Freya—her uniform torn, her silver hair matted with grime—he felt something he hadn't experienced in millennia: true, unchecked, exhilarating autonomy."The seal is broken," Freya whispered, her voice a sharp rasp as she kicked a fragment of dark quartz away from her boot. She grabbed Vann’s chin, her gaze locking onto his with an intensity that seemed to burn away the remaining debris of the battle.

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  • Chapter 100

    The ground beneath Aethelgard screamed, the ancient stone floor shuddering as if the Academy itself was caught in a spasm of rejection. Selene hovered inches above the tiles, her back arching unnaturally, jagged wings of blinding white light sprouting from her shoulder blades like fractured crystal shards. Every time they pulsated, a wave of scorched ozone swept through the basement, blistering the paint on the walls.She was losing it. The artificial divinity was burning through her central nervous system, and she wasn’t the controller; she was the fuel."Stabilize her!" Vann roared, grabbing the edge of the collapsing tank. His human heart was drumming so fast he could feel it pulsing in his throat, but his focus was as sharp as a razor. "Freya, if she goes supercritical, this whole wing is vapor. She’s turned into a walking nuke!"Freya didn't hesitate. She lunged through the torrent of blinding energy, the Empathic Light she summoned glowing in hues of

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