The Core-Chamber of Site-One was no longer a temple of industry; it was a pressurized tomb. The air was a thick, vibrating soup of ozone and the scent of overheated copper. The central mana-turbine, now force-fed a stream of Kael's corrupted, violet-marbled mana, was emitting a scream that bypassed the ears and vibrated directly into the skull.
Kael Light stood before the glass tank, his hand still pressed against the cold surface. He could feel the Source-Vessel—his ancient "sister"—trembling within the amniotic fluid. Her iridescence was flickering, the silver needles in her flesh sparking as the system she was tied to began to devour itself.
"Step... away... from... the... vessel," one of the Sun-Eaters spoke.
The voice was not human; it was a synthesized, mechanical rattle emitted from the Void-Metal helm. The three hunters didn't move with the hesitation of men; they moved with the synchronized logic of a single predator. They fanned out, their matte-black boots silent on the vibrating metal floor. One held a long, serrated chain of Void-Metal; the other two drew short, heavy blades designed for the dismemberment of mages.
THEY ARE THE HUNGER OF THE VOID, KAEL, the God's voice echoed, its tone sharpened by the proximity of the "Full Moon" cycle's early tremors. THEY DO NOT HAVE SOULS FOR US TO WEEP UPON. THEY DO NOT HAVE HEARTS FOR US TO BREAK. IF YOU FIGHT THEM WITH MANA, YOU ARE MERELY FEEDING THE BEASTS THAT WILL CONSUME YOU.
"I know," Kael whispered, his voice a low, vibrating octave.
He reached into his "Stable Agony," the familiar thud-crack of his ribs echoing in the chamber. He didn't try to summon a ring. Instead, he channeled every drop of his internal energy into his skeletal structure, turning his bones into a framework of reinforced, mana-dense iron.
The first Sun-Eater lunged, the Void-Metal chain whistling through the air like a striking serpent. The links were designed to wrap around a core and "choke" the mana-flow. Kael didn't dodge. He caught the chain with his bare left hand.
The Void-Metal hissed, the black metal greedily sucking at the starlight from the 'Reforged Sun' on his finger. Kael felt a cold, numbing sensation crawl up his arm, his mana being drained at a terrifying rate.
"My weight," Kael growled, his jaw set. "Ancient Art: The Anchor of the Abyss!"
He didn't pull the chain back. He increased his own localized gravity. By focusing the Star-Core's density through his boots and into the floor, Kael became an immovable object. The Sun-Eater, propelled by its own mechanical momentum, was jerked forward as the chain went taut.
Kael used the momentum to close the gap. He punched the Sun-Eater in the chest-plate, not with a flare of magic, but with the raw, kinetic energy of a hundred breaking and resetting bones.
CRUNCH.
The Void-Metal didn't shatter, but the chest-plate caved inward, the internal hydraulics of the suit spraying a mist of pressurized oil. The hunter was thrown backward, crashing into the copper shielding of the walls.
The other two Sun-Eaters were on him instantly. Their blades moved in a blur of black-on-black, aimed at the "Vessel" in Kael's chest. Kael pivoted, his grey cloak snapping like a whip. He felt a blade bite into his thigh, the cold metal sucking the heat from his blood. He ignored it.
"Kael!" Sam Willer's hologram screamed, the image now a chaotic mess of static and violet light. "Stop this! You're destroying eighty years of work! You're going to plunge the kingdom into the dark! Think of the hospitals! Think of the light!"
"The light is a lie if it's stolen from the innocent, Sam!" Kael roared, his iridescent eyes blazing through the mask of blood that was once again weeping from his eyes.
He grabbed the second Sun-Eater's helm, his fingers digging into the matte-black metal.
"Transmutation: The Brittle Age!"
He didn't use mana to rot the metal; he used his Healing Art in reverse to find the "micro-fractures" in the Void-Metal's molecular structure and expanded them. The helm disintegrated into a cloud of black dust, revealing the face of the pilot underneath.
It was a boy. He couldn't have been more than fourteen. His eyes were absolute voids, the Academy having surgically removed his "Sun-Blooded" potential to make him a perfect "Sun-Eater."
Kael froze. The "Saint" within him recoiled at the sight of the mutilated child.
In that heartbeat of hesitation, the third Sun-Eater struck. Its blade went deep into Kael's side, the cold metal piercing his lung. Kael gasped, a gout of golden-violet blood hitting the floor.
THERE IS NO MERCY IN THE VOID, KAEL, the God mocked. THEY ARE ALREADY GONE. THEY ARE TOOLS. BREAK THE TOOLS OR BE BROKEN BY THEM.
"No..." Kael wheezed, his hand gripping the blade in his side.
He looked at the boy-pilot. The boy didn't show fear or pain. He simply raised his hand to strike again, his movements dictated by the "Blood-Contract" etched into the suit's interior.
Kael realized then that he couldn't "save" these children with a touch. Their souls had been hollowed out to create the "Void." To save them, he had to destroy the "Order" that had made them.
Kael roared—a sound that was half-human, half-primordial. He channeled the full force of the turbine's feedback through his own body. He became a bridge between the dying Source-Vessel and the overloaded machinery.
"Primordial Art: The Great Release!"
A shockwave of iridescent grey energy erupted from Kael's position. It wasn't a wave of destruction; it was a wave of "Dissolution." As the energy hit the Sun-Eaters, their Void-Metal suits didn't explode; they simply ceased to be. The metal turned to ash, and the "Blood-Contracts" holding the pilots were purged. The three boys fell to the floor, unconscious but free from the Academy's link.
The shockwave hit the glass tank.
Crr-ack.
The lead-glass shattered. The amniotic fluid rushed out in a steaming wave, drenching the floor. The ancient Source-Vessel—the woman with the paper-thin skin—fell forward into Kael's arms.
She was so light. She felt like a bird made of dry parchment.
"I've got you," Kael whispered, his own blood dripping onto her white hair.
The woman looked up at him. Her iridescent grey eyes were clear for the first time in eighty years. She reached up a trembling hand and touched the 'Reforged Sun' on his finger.
"The... sun..." she whispered, her voice a dry rattle. "It's... so... warm..."
Kael looked at her mana-veins. They were gone. The silver needles had been the only thing keeping her alive, and the extraction system had already taken everything she had to give. She wasn't dying; she was finished.
"Can you... heal... me?" she asked, a faint, hopeful smile touching her lips.
Kael looked at his hands. He was the greatest healer the "Age of Ash" had ever produced. He had the "White Sun" of the Primordials. He could knit bone and seal flesh with a thought.
But as he looked into her soul, he saw the formula of her existence: $\int \Psi \, dt = 0$ The "Source" was empty. There was nothing left to heal.
"I can give you peace," Kael whispered, his voice breaking.
He didn't use a spell of restoration. He used the "Mother's Mercy." He funneled a final, gentle pulse of starlight into her heart, easing the transition into the light.
The woman's hand fell away. Her iridescent eyes dimmed. She died in the arms of the boy who had come to save her, a peaceful end to a century of industrial torture.
"YOU'VE KILLED HER!" Sam's hologram screamed, the image now disappearing as the power failed. "YOU'VE KILLED THE KINGDOM, KAEL! YOU'RE A MONSTER! A MURDERER!"
The hologram vanished.
The facility began to self-destruct. The central turbine had reached its critical mass, the violet-marbled mana turning into a singularity of pure pressure. The blackened steel walls of Site-One began to buckle.
Kael stood up, cradling the woman's body. He looked at the three Sun-Eater boys on the floor. He couldn't leave them here.
He used the last of his "Stable Agony" to create a localized field of gravity. He pulled the boys toward him and wove a protective cocoon of mana around them.
"I am a healer," Kael whispered to the falling ceiling. "But tonight... I am the end."
He didn't run for the exit. He didn't have the time. He channeled the Star-Core's density one last time and punched a hole directly through the mountain's peak.
"Ancient Art: The Ascent of the Fallen!"
A pillar of iridescent light shot upward from the Core-Chamber, tearing through the steel, the concrete, and the rock. Kael, carrying the dead woman and the three unconscious boys, rode the pillar of light into the sky.
Below them, Site-One imploded.
The Frozen Peak didn't explode with a bang; it collapsed into a black hole of its own making. The six massive chimneys were sucked into the earth. The mana-lines snapped with a sound like a world breaking. The lights of three cities in the southern valley flickered and died.
Kael landed on a distant ridge, miles away from the collapse. He set the woman's body down on the snow and laid the three boys beside her.
He stood there for a long time, watching the "Frozen Peak" vanish into the mist. The wind of the Frost-Spine Mountains picked up, carrying the smell of ozone and the silent prayers of the liberated.
ONE DOWN, KAEL, the God whispered, its voice sounding almost respectful. THREE TO GO. THE EMPIRE IS SITTING IN THE DARK NOW. THEY WILL BE LOOKING FOR THE ONE WHO TURNED OFF THE LIGHTS.
Kael didn't answer. He looked at his hands. They were covered in the woman's blood—the blood of his own kind. He realized then that he couldn't save everyone. He couldn't be the "Saint" in a world of "Cradles."
He picked up a handful of snow and washed his face. When he looked up, his iridescent eyes were as cold as the glacier.
"The fuel is coming for the fire," Kael said.
He looked toward the horizon, where the "Whispering Woods" lay hidden in the mist.