The first Aegis turned him away at the gates.
Ironhold Bastion sat in the shadow of the northern mountains, a fortress-city of grey stone and iron discipline. Home to three minor guilds and about five thousand residents. Respectable. Stable. The kind of place that valued order above all else.
Reven approached the gates with his cloth hood up trying to look like just another traveling hunter seeking work.
The scanner crystal flared red before he'd even spoken.
"Stop." The guard's voice was sharp. Professional. "Your entry denied."
"I'm just looking for—"
"Your corrupted system signature indicate essence contamination. Guild Coalition policy dictates immediate quarantine for evaluation. Submit to binding, or leave. Your choice."
Reven looked at the guard. And at the archers who'd appeared on the wall.
He turned and walked away. It wasn't worth his time to have this conversation.
Behind him, he heard the guard mutter to his companion: "Another one from the Shadowpeak disaster. Third this week."
Shadowpeak. The rival guild Dravin had aimed Vyraxes toward.
So the Calamity beast had reached them. But did what is was supposed to—cleanse excess, reset the balance, end things that had grown too large.
Reven kept walking and tried not to think about how many people had died to make Dravin four hundred thousand gold richer.
The second Aegis was worse.
Trader's Rest was a merchant hub—two thousand permanent residents, but three times that in transient population. Caravans. Traders. Hunters all passing through. The kind of place where nobody asked too many questions as long as your coin was good.
Reven made it through the initial gates. Paid the entry tax with what little he had to his name and walked to the main market district.
The scanner stations were everywhere—mandatory for anyone using guild facilities, entering certain districts, or conducting business above a certain threshold. He'd avoided them for an hour before his path took him past the Hunter's Lodge.
The alarm was immediate.
Loud enough to echo across the entire district. Red light spilling from warning crystals mounted on every corner.
"CALAMITY CONTAMINATION DETECTED. ALL RESIDENTS SEEK SHELTER. HUNTERS REPORT TO STATIONS."
Reven ran.
Not toward the exits—those would be locked down. Through the market, into the residential quarter, searching for the maintenance tunnels every Aegis had, the service ways that—
A bolt of lightning struck the ground three feet ahead.
Reven skidded to a stop.
Six hunters. All A-Rank or better. All with weapons drawn.
"On the ground! Now!"
Reven raised his hands slowly. "I'm not—"
"ON THE GROUND OR WE DROP YOU!"
He got on the ground.
They bound him with suppression chains. Checked the pack containing all his belongings. Scanned him three more times. All while Arguing about whether to kill him immediately or wait for Guild Coalition representatives.
In the end, they settled for an escort to the border and a permanent ban from Trader's Rest territory.
The head hunter—a woman with scars across her face and eyes that had seen too much—pulled Reven aside before they released him.
"I don't know what you are," she said quietly. "But that signature you're carrying? That's the same type that came off the thing that hit Shadowpeak. Whatever happened to you, whatever you've become—you need to stay away from populated areas. For everyone's sake."
"I'm not dangerous."
"You're radiating Calamity essence. That makes you dangerous by definition." She cut the suppression chains. "Go. Don't come back. And if you care about anyone, don't let them get close to you."
She shoved him through the gate.
It sealed behind him.
The third Aegis was kinder.
The Wandering Star was barely large enough to qualify—maybe eight hundred residents, built on the back of a fossilized Colossal Tortoise whose shell provided natural protection. A frontier settlement that survived by being small, mobile, and not worth attacking.
They scanned him as they would any other foreigner. Saw the corruption that affected his class and system.
The gate captain—an older man with kind eyes—shook his head apologetically.
"We're at capacity. I can't take on anyone we can't verify. Coalition regulations. You understand."
"I can work. I'm a smith. I can—"
"Regulations." The captain's voice was firm but not unkind. "We've got families here. Children. I can't risk bringing in someone with a signature like yours, not without proper clearance from Coalition authorities. You want that clearance, head to the nearest major Aegis and submit for evaluation."
"They'll kill me."
"Then I'm sorry. But I've got eight hundred people depending on me to keep them safe. Your problems don't outweigh theirs."
The captain handed Reven his pack. "There's a trading post two days south. They're less strict about scans. I hope they give you the chance you deserve."
"Thank you."
"Don't thank me. Just... be careful. Whatever happened to you, it's written all over your essence. And people are scared right now. Shadowpeak was bad. Real bad. The kind of bad that makes folks shoot first and not worry about the questions."
Reven took the advice and left.
The fourth Aegis accepted him.
Greystone Watch was a mining settlement—twelve hundred residents, built into a cliff face, focused on extracting rare earth materials from deep veins. Hard work. Hard people. The kind of place where results mattered more than credentials.
They scanned him, just as he had been previously. But this time they didn't immediately kick him out. They brought him before the mine overseer.
"You can work?" The overseer was a woman built like an ore cart—broad, solid, unmovable.
"Yes."
"You'll cause trouble?"
"No."
"You got coin for lodging?"
Reven showed her his remaining money. Enough for maybe three days.
She grunted. "One night. Prove you can work tomorrow, we'll talk about extended stay. Cause problems, we throw you in the deep shaft and seal it. Clear?"
"Understood."
She assigned him a bunk in the worker quarters. Explained the basics such as his work hours and meal times.
For one night, Reven had a roof over his head and a thin mattress that was still better than sleeping on the ground.
He should have known it wouldn't last.
The nightmare came at midnight.
Reven didn't remember falling asleep. What he remembered was waking inside the Obsidian Trench again, standing in that ritual circle, feeling the mountain scream.
Except this time, Vyraxes didn't stop at looking.
This time, it reached.
Three heads descending. Jaws opening wide enough to swallow reality. And from somewhere deeper—from the part of Reven that was no longer entirely human—came a response. An echo. A resonance.
His blood remembered what it had been before he'd stolen it.
And it answered.
In the waking world, Reven's body convulsed. His crimson veins flared bright enough to light the room. His heart beat in seven thunderous rhythms that shook the bunk, the floor, the walls.
Heat rolled off him in waves. The wooden frame of his bed began to smoke. The stone floor cracked.
The structural supports groaned. Wood splintered. Stone fractured in spreading patterns like ice breaking under pressure.
Reven woke to screaming.
Half the worker's quarters had been damaged. Support beams cracked. Floor joists weakened. The entire wing was structurally unsound and would need extensive repairs.
Two workers had minor injuries from falling debris.
The overseer stood in the ruins, arms crossed, face expressionless.
"Get out."
Reven gathered his pack. "I didn't mean to—"
"Don't care. You're dangerous. You stay, someone dies. Get. Out."
"I can help repair—"
"With what? Your cursed blood that cracks stone just from sleeping?" She stepped closer, lowering her voice. "Listen carefully. I don't know what you are, but you're not stable. You're not safe. And I've got twelve hundred people who deserve to sleep without worrying about some corrupted hunter bringing the walls down on them. Leave. Now. Before I decide you're too dangerous to let leave at all."
Reven left.
Behind him, workers were already shoring up the damaged section, their voices a mixture of fear and anger.
"—saw his veins glowing—"
"—thought it was going to kill us all—"
"—shouldn't have let him in—"
The gates sealed.
Reven stood alone on the road and felt something inside him crack that had nothing to do with stone or structure.
This was his life now. Rejected. Feared. Turned away from every place that might offer shelter because his very existence was a threat.
The crimson veins pulsed beneath his skin.
The hunger gnawed at his stomach.
And the world kept turning, indifferent to whether he survived or not.