Ogdi Num sat in the center of the dark.
His quarters were not a bedroom; they were a server room for reality. The air was frigid, kept cold to prevent the biological machinery of his brain from overheating. The walls were covered in intricate, chaotic scrawls of chalk—calculations of mana density, structural integrity of the Dome, and the calorie counts of the rebellion's dwindling food stores.
He wasn't sleeping. He hadn't slept in three weeks. Sleep was a luxury for those who didn't hold the ceiling of the world on their shoulders.
When he closed his eyes, he saw them.
The Golden Threads.
Thousands of them, thin as spider silk, stretching from the invisible Crown on his forehead out into the damp, miserable tunnels of the Decision Point, and further, punching through the earth up into the slums of St. Guinefort.
They were prayers.
"Please, let the water be clean today."
"Don't let the Hollows find my sister."
"King of Shadows, save us."
"I'm hungry. I'm so hungry."
The Usurper's Crown didn't just anchor him to reality; it made him a broadcast tower for the city's desperation. Every plea for help was a hammer blow to his migraine. Every cry of pain was a needle in his frontal lobe.
"You're twitching," Azad observed.
The entity was currently manifesting as a floating, severed marble hand, idly flipping a coin that didn't exist. The sound of the imaginary coin catch—clink—was the only noise in the room.
"The divinity bandwidth is too high," Azad continued, the hand rotating to examine its cuticles. "You need to filter the signal, or your brain will cook like an over-boiled egg. You are leaking spinal fluid again, by the way."
"I can't filter them," Ogdi whispered, his voice raspy. He massaged his temples, feeling the throbbing veins beneath the skin. "If I block the connection, I lose the location of the Knights. I lose the map. I lose them."
"Then stop caring," Azad suggested, catching the imaginary coin. "Gods don't weep for every crushed ant. They watch the anthill. Caring is an inefficient use of processing power."
"I'm not a god, Azad. I'm a janitor with a master key."
Ogdi stood up. His joints popped like dry twigs. He walked to a basin of water and splashed his face. The reflection that stared back was gaunt, a skull wrapped in parchment. His eyes were rimmed with red, and there was a faint, permanent golden shimmer in his irises—the radiation of the Crown slowly burning out his humanity.
BOOM.
The water in the basin rippled.
It wasn't a footstep. It wasn't an explosion in the tunnels.
It was a vibration that rattled Ogdi's teeth in his gums. It felt like the air pressure in the room had dropped instantly, popping his ears.
"Seismic event?" Ogdi asked, grabbing his coat.
"Negative," Azad replied, the marble hand vanishing into smoke. "The vibration isn't coming from the ground. It's coming from the Sky."
Ogdi burst into the Command Center.
The Decision Point was in chaos. Rebels were scrambling, securing crates, checking weapons. The lights flickered violently, buzzing like angry hornets.
"Status!" Ogdi barked.
Eloi was at the main table, his face pale. The former Prime Minister was staring at a crude periscope system—a series of mirrors and lenses that fed images from the surface down the ventilation shafts.
"It's the Dome, Ogdi," Eloi said, his voice tight. "Something hit it."
"Hit it?" Ogdi moved to the scope. "The King?"
"No," Ylaeth said. She was floating near the ceiling, her hands pressed against the rock, feeling the vibrations through the stone. Her eyes were wide, glowing with fear. "From the outside."
Ogdi froze.
He grabbed the periscope handles and looked.
The image was grainy, filtered through dirty glass, but the view was clear enough.
The purple sky of Oravus was rippling like a disturbed pond.
High above the city, at the very apex of the Grey Dome, there was a point of blinding white light. It looked like a star had pressed itself against the glass of a fish tank.
Concentric rings of energy were pulsing downward, shaking the entire city. Buildings in the upper districts were cracking. Glass shattered in a million windows simultaneously.
"Azad, analysis," Ogdi commanded mentally.
"Signal detected," Azad's voice was clinically fascinated. "Magical signature: Composite. Traces of Ironclad Empire heavy artillery mixed with Sanctum divinity rituals. Conclusion: They are trying to crack the egg."
"The Alliance," Ogdi whispered. "They didn't just blockade us. They're trying to sanitize the site."
CRACK.
A sound like a splitting glacier echoed across the entire continent. It was a sound so loud it bypassed the ears and vibrated the skeleton.
On the periscope, the white point of light flared. A beam of concentrated energy drilled into the Dome.
The Dome held. It was made of folded space-time, powered by the Crown of Silence. But it flexed.
And as it flexed, something slipped through.
Not the beam. The beam was stopped, dissipated across the surface.
But a physical object—a dark, metallic capsule, wreathed in protective enchantments—was pushed through the membrane of the barrier like a needle through skin.
It plummeted from the zenith, trailing smoke and blue sparks.
"Trajectory!" Ogdi shouted.
"Calculated!" Eloi yelled, plotting points on the map with trembling hands. "It's falling... Sector 4. The Industrial District."
"The Foundry," Kai's voice cut in.
The Knight of Shattered Lives stepped out of the shadows. He was fully geared, his daggers sharpened, his arm brace tightened. His face was grim. "That's heavy territory. Wall-to-wall Hollows. The air alone will kill you without a filter."
"What is it?" Ylaeth asked, dropping to the floor. "A bomb?"
"No," Ogdi said, watching the object fall on the screen. "If it was a bomb, they would have detonated it on the shell. That's a Drop Pod. An insertion vehicle."
He turned to the room.
"The outside world just sent a guest."
Suddenly, the air in the Command Center grew heavy. The shadows stretched, twisting into unnatural shapes.
A voice—deep, resonant, and terrifyingly familiar—echoed in Ogdi's mind. It wasn't Azad. It wasn't the prayers.
It was a cold, golden intrusion.
"Architect."
Ogdi stiffened. He grabbed the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white.
King Aethelred.
The connection was open. The King was speaking to him through the resonance of the Crowns. The Usurper's Crown on Ogdi's head vibrated in sympathy with the Regalia on the King's brow.
"I assume you see the intruder," the King's voice was calm, almost bored, like a man discussing the weather. "How rude of our neighbors. Throwing stones at our glass house."
"Get out of my head," Ogdi snarled aloud, shocking the rebels around him.
"We have a dilemma," the King continued, ignoring the outburst. "If I send my Hollows to retrieve the object, they will destroy it. They lack... finesse. But that object contains data. Codes. Perhaps the frequency of the blockade."
Ogdi narrowed his eyes. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because," the King chuckled, a sound like dry leaves crumbling. "I am currently occupied with the Tower ritual. And I know you, Ogdi. You are curious. You want to know what the world thinks of us."
The presence in Ogdi's mind sharpened into a spike.
"So, I propose a race. I have sent my favorite dog to fetch the stick. If he gets to the crash site first, I burn the object and whatever is inside. If you get there first... well, you might learn something useful before I kill you."
The connection snapped shut.
Ogdi gasped, air rushing back into his lungs as the mental pressure vanished.
"Ogdi?" Eloi touched his arm. "Who were you talking to?"
Ogdi looked at the map. He looked at the crash site in Sector 4.
"The King knows," Ogdi said. "He's sending Alsys."
He turned to Kai.
"Mobilize the Knights. The Shattered Lives unit. And bring the new kid."
"Ren?" Kai frowned. "He's been here six hours. He's green."
"He's a Spotter," Ogdi said, adjusting his coat. The golden halo flickered into existence above his head, jagged and angry. "And we are going into a factory full of things that need to be seen."
Ogdi pulled a heavy iron mask from his belt and placed it over his face.
"We have to get to that Drop Pod before Alsys does. If the King gets the blockade codes, he won't just sit here anymore. He'll expand."
Sector 4: The Foundry
The Industrial District was a graveyard of smoke.
The crash had decimated a warehouse complex. Fires burned green and blue, fed by ruptured chemical tanks. The air tasted of copper and burning plastic.
Ogdi, Kai, Ylaeth, and a squad of six rebels—including a terrified Ren—moved through the wreckage.
"Masks up," Kai ordered. "The fumes are toxic. One breath and your lungs turn to fluid."
Ren fumbled with his gas mask, his hands shaking. He clutched his sketchbook to his chest like a bulletproof vest. The lenses of his mask fogged up immediately with his rapid breathing.
"Stay close to me," Kai muttered to the boy. "And don't look at the fire too long. It moves."
They reached the crater.
In the center of the steaming rubble lay the object. It was a sphere of black iron, etched with glowing runes of the Ironclad Empire. Steam hissed from its vents as the cooling systems fought the heat of entry.
"It's an Arcane Black Box," Eloi whispered, analyzing the runes through a pair of spectro-goggles. "It records everything. Lattice fluctuations, energy signatures... it's a probe."
"Open it," Ogdi commanded.
Eloi stepped forward, pulling out a set of lock-picking tools made of solidified mana.
"Contact!" Ylaeth hissed.
She pointed to the north.
Through the toxic smoke, they marched.
Fifty Hollows. They moved in perfect, silent unison, the click-clack of their ceramic feet hidden by the roar of the fire.
And leading them was a man in a pristine Royal Guard uniform, strolling casually through the chemical fire as if it were a spring breeze.
Alsys.
He spotted them and stopped. A bright, genuine smile spread across his handsome face. He waved with the same hand that had crushed Kai's wrist six months ago.
"Well, well!" Alsys called out, his voice cutting through the roar of the flames. "The rats came out of the walls!"
He drew a long, slender rapier. The blade hummed with a high-pitched frequency that made Ren's teeth ache.
"And look," Alsys pointed his sword at Ogdi. "The King of Rats brought his crown. And..." He glanced at Kai. "...the thief with the glass wrist. Does it still ache when it rains?"
Kai growled, his hand tightening on his dagger.
Ogdi stepped forward. The golden halo flared, illuminating the smoke.
"Hold them off," Ogdi ordered his team. "Eloi, get the data. Kai, Ylaeth... buy him time."
"And you?" Ylaeth asked, summoning a swirl of debris around her.
Ogdi looked at Alsys.
"I need to teach a dog to sit."
Battle Start.
Alsys moved. He didn't run; he vanished.
CRASH.
He reappeared directly in front of Ogdi, the rapier thrusting for Ogdi's eye with the speed of a striking viper.
Ogdi didn't dodge. He Edited.
"I deny the concept of sharpness."
Exchange: The sensation of touch in my left hand.
Ogdi's left hand went instantly numb, dead nerve endings paying the price.
The rapier hit Ogdi's unarmored face—and bounced off. There was a dull thud, like striking diamond. The blade failed to cut because the idea of cutting had been locally deleted.
Alsys's eyes widened slightly. "Oh? Sturdy."
He spun, converting the momentum into a kick to Ogdi's chest. The force was kinetic, not sharp. It hit like a cannonball. Ogdi flew back, crashing into a pile of scrap metal.
"Defensive formation!" Kai roared.
The rebels opened fire. Bullets struck the advancing Hollows, shattering porcelain but not stopping them. The Hollows returned fire with wrist-mounted crossbows.
Ren crouched behind a slab of concrete, hyperventilating.
"Paint!" Kai shouted at him, deflecting a crossbow bolt with his dagger. "Tell us where they are weak!"
Ren opened his sketchbook. He forced himself to look at the monsters.
To normal eyes, they were identical white statues. But to Ren...
He saw the lines. He saw the flaws in the Lattice that held them together.
"The knees!" Ren screamed, pointing at the lead Hollow. "The left knee is cracked! It's grey! The Lattice is thin there!"
Kai didn't hesitate. He threw a dagger.
It struck the Hollow's left knee. The porcelain shattered instantly, and the machine-man collapsed, its leg severing in a spray of white dust.
"Good eye, kid!" Kai laughed, diving into the smoke.
Meanwhile, Ogdi climbed out of the scrap pile. He spat blood.
Alsys was waiting, tapping his foot.
"You're boring," Alsys sighed. "You just tank hits. Where is the flair? Where is the artistry?"
He lunged again, this time aiming for the throat.
Ogdi raised his hand.
"I wish the distance between us was infinite."
Azad Warning: Cost too high. Ripple Effect: 70%. Brain liquefaction imminent.
"Modify!" Ogdi thought. "I wish the ground was mud."
Exchange: Moisture.
Ogdi's mouth instantly went dry. His tongue felt like sandpaper. His lips cracked and bled. The water in his cells evaporated to fuel the Edit.
The concrete beneath Alsys liquefied. The guard stumbled, sinking to his shins in sudden, thick sludge.
"Cheap trick!" Alsys laughed, slashing at the mud.
Ogdi didn't wait. He rushed past Alsys, toward the sphere.
"Eloi! Now!"
Eloi cracked the seal on the Black Box. With a hiss of pressurized steam, the sphere opened.
There was no pilot inside.
There was a corpse.
It was a soldier of the Ironclad Empire. But he hadn't died from the crash. He was desiccated, drained of all moisture and life—a husk of skin and bone. The protective wards of the pod had eaten him alive to keep the message intact.
Clutched in his skeletal hands was a crystal drive.
And carved into the chest plate of the dead soldier was a message. Not written in ink, but burned into the metal with magical fire.
"ORAVUS IS CONDEMNED. PURGE PROTOCOL INITIATED. T-MINUS 30 DAYS."
Ogdi stopped.
The Alliance wasn't just probing.
They had put a timer on the bomb.
"Alsys!" Ogdi shouted, turning to the guard who was pulling himself out of the mud.
"Look at it!" Ogdi pointed at the corpse. "Look at the message!"
Alsys paused. He squinted at the corpse. He read the inscription.
His smile faltered. Just for a second.
Then it returned, sharper than before.
"Thirty days?" Alsys chuckled, shaking the mud off his boots. "The King will be done in ten."
He sheathed his rapier. The Hollows stopped firing.
"Enjoy the data, Architect. Consider it a housewarming gift from the sky. We'll be back for the ashes."
Alsys whistled. The surviving Hollows retreated, fading back into the toxic smoke.
The rebels stood panting, surrounded by fire and wreckage.
Ogdi walked to the corpse. He took the crystal drive from the dead man's fingers.
"They're going to kill us all," Ren whispered, staring at the message. "The outside world... they're going to kill us."
Eloi looked at Ogdi, his face grey. "Ogdi... T-Minus 30 days. Is that their time or ours?"
Ogdi looked at the desiccated corpse. He looked at the violence of the crash.
"If it was their time, we'd have fourteen years," Ogdi rasped, his throat burning from the Exchange. "But look at the decay. The magic on this pod accelerated to match our timeline. They know about the dilation."
He crushed the crystal drive into his pocket.
"It's thirty days our time."
He looked up at the bruised sky, where the faint scar of the entry point was still visible.
"They didn't give us a deadline," Ogdi said, his voice cold. "They gave us an execution date."
Ogdi turned to his knights.
"Pack it up. We have thirty days to kill a King, or the world kills us."