Echoes Of The Fallen
Date: August 8, 980 GD Time: 14:00 Location: Inside the Blackstone Lift (Supersonic Descent Phase from Zenith-Zero to Zero Point City). Starting Altitude: ±8,000 Meters
The magnetic hum of the Blackstone Lift rings loudly in the oppressive silence of the capsule. We are falling from the sky. At an altitude of 8,000 meters, the thin stratospheric atmosphere begins to press against the capsule walls with a suffocating density of pure Mana.
I lean against the metal railing, letting the freezing surface cool my throbbing forehead. My reflection in the black glass looks like a ghost—my red eyes glowing faintly, contrasting with the pallor of my skin which is starting to lose its color.
Down below, Zero Point City sprawls like a giant, dirty, broken circuit board. The Under-City is now under my mandate.
Yet, I know it's not real control. It's merely an illusion of stability, easily shattered, a spiderweb I spun only to keep this structure from collapsing before its time.
"The gods up there," I murmur, my voice hoarse and cold, leaving a trail of condensation on the crystal glass.
"They drink liquid Ambrosia, squeezing the life essence from millions of people, then drop their waste below as payment. We are just their trash heap."
Solstice Burn leans against the opposite wall. She doesn't turn. Only a cynical smile plays on her lips.
"You also just devoured the Under-City down to its bones to survive, Ice Cube," she retorts sharply, using the mocking nickname that usually makes me want to cut out her tongue.
"Don't act so holy. We are both predators. The only difference is you wear a fancy robe and a fake smile."
She's right. We are both stains on this sacred lens.
The lift plunges downward at supersonic speed. The Mana pressure at this altitude is poison for our circuits.
Because the ambient Mana here is too dense and pure, it presses against our already damaged internal circuits, forcing the energy inside our bodies to 'leak' out to achieve pressure equilibrium.
For me, this means the residual heat I wrung from Solstice this morning is being greedily sucked out by the ravenous outside air. My blood feels like it's thickening into icy sludge.
My breath comes out as thick white vapor, while my heart beats in a slowing staccato rhythm. On the other hand, Solstice is experiencing critical overheating because her fire reactor is forced to work double-time to fight her fever.
Her skin emits hissing blue steam, and I can hear her increasingly short breaths, like a kettle boiling for too long.
Without a word, I take a step back. Solstice snorts roughly, but she doesn't refuse. She turns her back to me. We stand with our backs pressed tightly together.
We are two pillars holding each other up in the midst of a storm.
I can feel her body heat seeping through the layers of our uniform fabric, flowing directly into my freezing bone marrow. The heat is like a slow but unstoppable river of lava, melting the ice crystals accumulating in my blood vessels.
At the same time, my corpse-cold back acts as a cooling plate for her fever, sucking away the energy load that is about to blow her head off. This isn't a hug, it's parasitic symbiosis.
We press against each other, seeking as much skin contact surface area as possible through the thin fabric to facilitate faster heat exchange.
"Asking for a recharge again?" she teases, her voice raspy but still manages to inject sarcasm. Her messy gray hair sticks to her sweaty neck, and I can feel the small tremor of her laugh through our touching backbones.
"Like a freezing child. If it weren't for this natural AC on your back, I might have blown this lift up a while ago."
"I'm just taking the heat that would have blown your head off, you walking bomb," I retort, though my breathing is starting to feel smoother as the warmth begins to thaw my dormant Flame circuits.
I press my back more firmly against hers, feeling the warm energy flow like an electric current, waking the frozen cells in my chest and stomach. It feels like drinking hot coffee after a long night in the polar cold—stinging, but refreshing.
"Don't pretend to be strong. I can feel your heart beating like an overloaded jet engine. If you explode now, I'll be the one cleaning your ashes off this floor."
She laughs softly, the sound resonating in this narrow capsule, making the hot steam from her mouth mix with the cold dew from my breath.
"Oh, don't pretend to care, Wynter. We both know this is just business. You need fire to not become an ice statue, and I need ice to not become ash. But hey, at least you're more useful than my broken umbrella."
She shifts her position slightly, making our contact more perfect, her shoulder touching mine from behind. Her heat now spreads to my right arm, making my stiff fingers start to move again without the stabbing pain.
I snort, but can't deny the relief seeping into my chest.
"Business? This feels more like a failed forced marriage. You're too hot, I'm too cold. One small mistake, and we both explode together. But yeah, I admit... this is better than being alone. At least you don't complain like Rian, who's always whining about life insurance."
Solstice turns her head slightly, enough to glance at me from the corner of her shimmering blue-fire eyes.
"Rian? That bookworm kid? He's probably written his third resignation letter today. But seriously, Ice Cube... why are you still holding on in this game? Zero Point, Under-City, those gods... you could just run away, but you go deeper into hell. Do you really believe you can change this system, or are you just hungrier for more power?"
Her question stabs, like a hot needle piercing a frozen heart. I pause for a moment, feeling her now steady heartbeat, synchronized with mine, which is starting to warm.
"Hungry? Maybe. But that's not all. This system is broken, Solstice. They up there are devouring us alive, and those down there... they don't even know they're being eaten. If I don't hold on, who will? You? The one who almost burned the building yesterday because you were angry about breakfast?"
She shakes her head, but doesn't pull away. In fact, "Maybe. But don't forget, I went down to the Under-City with you not because of your crazy idealism. I went because... well, because you're the only one who can withstand my heat without melting. And maybe... a little because I'm tired of burning everything alone."
We stand like that in an intimate yet wary silence. Back to back, feeling each other's heartbeats clashing through our rib cages.
Two predators exploiting each other's suffering for a minute of sanity. The lift continues to fall, approaching the ground, but for a moment, at this altitude, we feel like we're floating—free from the political gravity pulling us down.
She presses her back once more, this time more gently, almost like an unspoken gesture.
"Just enjoy it, Ice Cube. This is a tip because you were shivering like a wet puppy last night."
I let out a soft snort, the vapor from my breath now thinner.
"You also look like a kettle about to burst. Don't act so strong."
"I'm enjoying it a little," I admit slowly, my voice lower now, almost like a whisper. "For years I burned alone. Now there's you who can contain my energy waste. It feels... efficient. Maybe even... pleasant, if you weren't as cold as a tombstone."
I don't answer immediately, but I feel a thin smile forming on my blue-tinged lips.
"Efficient? That's the most romantic thing you've ever said, Solstice. Don't tell me you're starting to like me."
"Don't flatter yourself," she replies quickly, but there's a playful tone in her voice. "It's just because you're useful. If you freeze solid tomorrow, I'll find a new AC. But for now... yeah, this is decent."
This interaction unfolds like a careful dance, where every word is a step, every touch is a balance. The lift continues to hiss, approaching the ground, but for a moment, we forget about the hell waiting below.
However, that tranquility is merely a pause before the execution.
My Smart-ID on my wrist vibrates with a painful frequency. Red encrypted patterns from The Weaver explode on the holographic screen.
My Smart-ID on my wrist vibrates with a painful frequency. Red encrypted patterns from The Weaver explode on the holographic screen.
WEAVER:
[ Congratulations. You have devoured the Under-City down to its bones. Congratulations. You have danced with the Sky and thought you could control them. ]
[ But the Law of Absolute Exchange applies, Praetor. No action without consequence. LOOK AHEAD. NOW. ]
The message closes with a sharp red flash before my Smart-ID screen dims. I immediately release my back from leaning against Solstice. The ravenous cold of the stratosphere immediately strikes again, piercing my pores as if trying to replace the warmth I just stole.
I turn toward the lift's front window. My red eyes narrow, trying to pierce the Aether Slag fog and stratospheric vapor. There, far down our vertical path, a point of light appears. Small, yet pure. Within milliseconds, the point expands, transforming into the silhouette of an energy spear tearing through the air at an impossible speed.
"Sol!" I shout, my voice hoarse.
Without needing a second command, Solstice Burn's predator instincts take over. She felt that Mana distortion before I even spoke. With a fluid and brutal motion, she jumps in front of me. Her Solaris umbrella is slammed onto the metal floor, spinning at high speed until its hiss deafens my ears.
"Solaris Aegis!" she growls.
A blazing orange energy barrier erupts from the umbrella's frame, forming a solid disc-shaped shield. I don't stay idle. I press my freezing palms against the back of her umbrella, injecting all my remaining Aqua and Gale circuits to reinforce the structure.
Dense black ice begins to creep over Solstice's fiery shield, creating a layer of Reinforced Cryo-Shield—a composite shield that should be able to withstand Valdor tank cannon fire.
BOOM!
The first impact hits us. It's a mix of lightning and fire—pure plasma. The vibration travels through the bones of my hand, almost crushing my shoulder joints.
My ice cracks, evaporating into thick mist in an instant, but the shield holds. We managed to block it.
But that was just bait.
"Wait, something's comin——" My sentence is cut short.
The second attack comes not from the front, but from a sharp angle below. A far more massive plasma explosion hits the underside of the lift capsule. The supposedly indestructible Blackstone metal bends, glows red, and finally explodes.
The force of the blast throws us out of the shattered iron cage. The crystal glass in front of us shatters into millions of sharp fragments that glitter like stars in the dark night.
We are thrown into the stratospheric vacuum. Altitude: 7,000 meters.
The vertical wind impact—The Downdraft—hits my body like a sledgehammer. In free fall, gravity and wind try to tear us apart. Yet, reflexively, I reach out my hand, gripping the collar of Solstice's tactical jacket tightly. She does the same, her blazing arm wrapping around my waist, pulling me close until our breaths mingle amidst the storm.
This isn't a romantic embrace. It's a survival maneuver. We cling to each other because we know, in this thin, cold air, only extreme physical contact can keep our circuits active. If we separate, I'll freeze into an ice statue in seconds, and she'll explode from heat dissipation failure.
As we fall, I turn my head, looking toward the source of the attack.
Suddenly, a Mana transmission—a forced message that echoes directly inside my skull—enters without permission.
"Greetings, Praetor. Thank you for helping feed our friends down there with the chaos you created. Consider this a warm farewell greeting."
The voice is cold, vibrating with lightning distortion.
"May we meet again... at least if you can survive this fall."
I grit my teeth. The attacker is flying using pure Mana condensed under his feet—a high-tier technique indicating he is at least Tier 5 Mana (The Torrent) with combined fire and lightning affinity.
Our bodies continue to fall through the toxic clouds toward the gaping maw of Zero Point City below, leaving the assassin from The Unraveling who merely watches us from the sky's heights.
The vertical wind impact—The Downdraft—hits my body like a giant sledgehammer trying to separate flesh from bone. Its sound is no longer a hiss, but a deafening, hoarse roar, tearing away the last warmth from my thick robe.
The altitude continues to drop. Oxygen thins, and every breath feels like inhaling frozen glass shards that slice my lungs to the pit of my stomach.
In the chaos of free fall, gravity feels like it's pulling my guts into my throat. Reflexively, my stiff hand tightens its grip on the collar of Solstice's tactical jacket. She does the same; her blazing arm wraps around my waist, pulling me close until our breaths mingle amidst the storm of hot steam and ice crystals.
Suddenly, the roar of the wind fades into a suffocating silence. My consciousness cracks. The extreme Mana pressure in the stratosphere begins to forcibly unpack the contents of my head, dragging me back into the labyrinth of memories from the past week that now judge me in excruciating detail.
The stinging smell of ammonia from *Layer -1* suddenly fills my nose again. I see the face of a small child with bandaged eyes, falling before me in black mud. I remember giving him one ampule of Lux with a hero's flair, even though my analytical eyes knew full well that blue light would only become a reason for others to slit his throat that night for a piece of bread.
Then, my vision shifts to Silas's face, glowing like a false god in his holy garden. His gentle voice creeps back into my ears, whispering instructions to serve the "Mud Sacrament" to the under-city citizens. I see my own reflection on the Command Center screen... and I am smiling. A smile born from relief at not having to be the one to turn the poison valve myself, even though my hands remain stained with sin through bureaucratic signatures.
The peak is the simultaneous 'POP' sound resonating in my skull, shattering the remnants of my sanity. I see the drone footage at the Northern Gate again. One hundred youths full of revolutionary hope die in the blink of an eye when I press the group annihilation button. The metallic smell of fresh blood flooding the gutters and the fine red mist from exploding heads seem to spray onto my face now.
How amusing, I think with a choking cynicism. I mocked the gods in the sky for dumping their waste on earth, but I myself just used thousands of lives as stepping stones to climb up here. I am not the Under-City's savior. I am just a smaller, hungrier, more hypocritical version of those wearing sun masks. If this fall is karma, then the universe at least has a very fair sense of humor in executing bastards like me.
"HEY! YOU DAMN ICE CUBE!".
The shout tears through the fog of my memories. Solstice's voice, hoarse and full of anger, forces me back to reality. She grips my shoulder so hard her nails pierce through my robe. Her glowing blue eyes are right in front of my face, refracting the light of fire amidst the stratospheric darkness.
"Don't you dare die while daydreaming! We have to live, you bastard! I refuse to die as a pile of crushed meat on the sidewalk just because you're busy regretting your sins!".
That jolt is the anchor pulling me back from the abyss of circuit failure. There's no time for regret. If I must go to hell, I'll go as a winner, not a victim.
We don't speak anymore. Survival instinct—the predator symbiosis we've built—takes over completely. Solstice does something that defies a Pyromancer's nature.
She begins to reverse the Mana flow from her fire circuits into the Solaris umbrella frame. Instead of triggering an explosion, she uses atmospheric pressure to force her thermal energy to cool forcibly, turning the remnants of her energy into a dense, moist vapor.
I catch the cue. I muster all my remaining Aqua and Gale circuits, squeezing every drop of energy from my Core until it feels dry and cracked—Dry Casting symptoms begin to creep up my spinal nerves. I seize the water vapor created by Solstice, instantly freezing it to absolute zero temperatures.
Dense black ice spreads rapidly, enveloping our tightly embraced bodies beneath the Solaris umbrella. Within seconds, we are trapped inside a giant, smooth, oval-shaped ice block—an emergency rescue capsule designed to withstand atmospheric friction heat as we slide down.
My consciousness begins to fade as my Core reaches zero. Absolute cold begins to envelop my thoughts, yet amidst that darkness, I can still feel one tangible thing: the radiant heat from Solstice's heart, still beating strongly against my back.
That heat no longer burns; it becomes a stable radiator keeping my vital organs functioning in this deadly hibernation state.
The last sight I see before my eyes close is our shadow—like two statues in a crystal coffin, sliding down through toxic clouds toward the destruction waiting below.
Darkness swallows everything. And we continue to fall.