The Rift did not close quietly.
Its collapse rippled outward like the final heartbeat of a dying god.
A shockwave tremored through the slums—windows shattering, loose debris rattling, crimson haze unraveling into the air like blood dissolving in water.
Then—
Silence fell.
Heavy.
Unnatural.
Where endless chittering had filled the world moments before, there was now only the hiss of settling dust.
From the fading dimensional tear…
Xia Ying stepped through.
His uniform was torn in places, shadow-scorched along the sleeves, but his posture remained unbent—calm as still water after a storm.
Darkness retracted slowly from his palms.
Tendrils coiled inward like obedient serpents returning to rest.
Behind him, the last vermin echoes screamed as they dissolved into drifting essence motes.
The warehouse district lay in ruin.
Walls collapsed into burrow-hollowed husks.
Concrete was eaten through with tunnel networks.
Essence residue glistened wetly across broken ground.
But the swarms—
Were gone.
The air felt… lighter.
Freed.
Civilians began peering from barricades.
Fearful faces emerged from shattered doorways and overturned transports.
Awe mingled with lingering terror as their eyes fell upon the lone branded walking from the sealed Rift.
Legion transports thundered in seconds later—belated steel beasts grinding over debris.
Wardens disembarked in full gear, rifles raised—only to slow as they took in the battlefield.
Cleared.
Silent.
Impossible.
A captain lowered her core reader slowly, the device humming in disbelief.
> "One branded… sealed a Rank 3 solo?"
Media drones arrived before command could lock the perimeter.
Hover-cams swarmed like metallic insects, projecting live feeds across city networks.
Reporters shouted over each other from behind barricade lines.
"Volunteer seals slum Rift alone!"
"Shadow Dominion sovereign sighted!"
"Nightmare summoner or miracle hero?!"
Clips spread instantly—
Xia Ying walking from the Rift calm as dusk.
Tendrils retracting.
A fleeting chill in the air as the **Adolescent Phantom** dissolved—child silhouette fading, ink tears evaporating into mist.
The footage ignited the city.
Crowds surged forward.
Saved families broke containment first.
A mother collapsed at his feet, clutching her child.
"You saved us—vermin had him—he was—" Her voice shattered into sobs.
Residual terror radiated from her in waves.
His aura sipped passively.
A warm, delicate tingle.
He knelt to the child's level, placing a steady hand on the boy's shoulder.
"The team bought time," he said gently. "Evacuation saved lives."
The humility only intensified public reaction.
Cheers erupted.
Hands reached toward him.
Some tried to touch his cloak like it carried divine protection.
"Slum Savior!"
"The shadow hero!"
Children whispered wide-eyed:
"The ghost child came with him…"
Lin Mei and Wei Jun pushed through the crowd moments later.
Lin Mei threw her arms around him without restraint.
"You went alone… Impossible… You're a hero."
Devotion shone in her eyes—absolute, unbreakable.
Wei Jun stopped just short of contact, but the awe was unmistakable.
"Clips are everywhere already. You just changed your leverage across half the city."
Inside Xia Ying—
A deeper thrill stirred.
Civilian terror still lingered thick in the air.
Memories of mutation.
Of being devoured alive.
Of losing family.
His aura harvested gently, invisibly.
Adoration laced with dread.
A far sweeter feast than fear alone.
*The mask holds,* he thought calmly.
*And the harvest deepens.*
---
## **Viral Sovereign**
Comm feeds exploded.
Millions of views within the hour.
Forums ignited in speculative frenzy:
> "That phantom child—abyss class summon?"
> "Shadow Dominion variant?"
> "He moved like a sovereign…"
> "New rising star?"
The narrative was already forming around him.
Hero.
Savior.
Nightmare guardian.
All useful masks.
Legion officials quickly pulled him into a secured debrief tent beneath layered wards.
Inside waited Realm 5 and 6 captains, essence recorders floating around a central table.
The lead captain—a stern woman whose Dominion pressed faintly like atmospheric gravity—spoke first.
"Details, volunteer. Solo neutralization of a Rank 3 core is… statistically abnormal."
Xia Ying sat calmly.
He recounted a controlled version:
Shadow binds.
Realm utility.
A "familiar" dread stun.
No Divine sovereignty.
No true harvest scale.
The questioning sharpened.
"Your control is exceptional," another captain noted. "The Legion requires harvesters of your caliber. Guided Rifts. Shared essence pools. Stabilized hunger management."
Recruitment pressure, wrapped in professionalism.
"Join formally," the lead captain said. "Fast-track advancement. Mentors. Resource priority."
Around the table—
Hunger hid behind discipline.
They wanted his output.
His yield.
His potential.
Xia Ying's title blunted their intimidation pressure effortlessly.
He let a trace aura leak—just enough to brush the lead captain's psyche with Feedback.
For a fraction of a second—
She saw herself failing ascension.
Stagnant.
Powerless.
Her expression flickered.
He smiled faintly.
"I'm honored," he said smoothly. "But I'll remain independent a while longer. I want to test my limits fully."
Information flowed both ways during the exchange.
He extracted far more than he revealed:
• Rift escalation patterns worsening
• Veil thinning in urban zones
• Legion suffering high-Realm casualties
When he rose to leave, the captain's tone cooled slightly.
"We'll monitor your progress. Independents tend to… dissolve."
A veiled warning.
He inclined his head politely.
"Guidance appreciated."
Inside—
*Their hunger is loud,* he thought.
*But mine feeds deeper.*
---
## **Core Harvest**
Post-debrief, he received his claim.
The **Rift Core**.
The queen's condensed heart—an orb of compressed terror essence, pulsing slowly like a living organ.
Appraisers scanned it carefully.
"Standard tax thirty percent… but given public impact…"
A pause.
"Heroic mitigation. Twenty percent waived."
Reputation already converting into material gain.
He accepted the orb personally.
It was warm in his hand.
Whispers leaked faintly from within—echoes of hive terror, endless hunger, brood betrayal.
Outside the tent, civilians still lingered.
Some offered rations.
Others trinkets.
One small child handed him a drawing—
A shadow man standing beside a ghost child.
Crude.
Innocent.
But the fear lines around the phantom were detailed with unsettling accuracy.
A mother clasped his hands.
"Our home is yours if you ever need shelter."
Favors seeded.
Safe houses born.
Information pipelines forming.
---
## **Private Evolution**
Night fell by the time he returned to his apartment.
Door bolted.
Wards sealed.
He placed the Rift core at the center of the room.
The absorption ritual began silently.
When his palms touched the orb—
Essence detonated inward.
A euphoric surge flooded his veins, richer than any harvest before.
His Flaw drank deeply.
Months of satiation settled in.
Power crested in intoxicating waves.
Shadows responded first.
Tendrils manifested instinctively—
But something had changed.
They moved before command.
Uncoiling slowly.
Testing the air.
Curious.
Semi-sentient.
They curled protectively around his arm like loyal serpents awaiting prey.
He extended them—ten meters easily now.
Blades hardened denser than before.
They sliced the air with whisper-sharp precision.
Then he summoned the Phantom.
The **Adolescent form** emerged stronger—taller, aura colder, whispers layered.
Possession refined.
A knife on the table lifted—dancing midair under its control.
For a moment, even Xia Ying felt a thrill of unease.
His own creations were evolving alongside him.
"Terror ascends," the Phantom whispered faintly.
He dismissed it with satisfaction.
---
## **Sovereign Reflection**
He stood alone in the dim apartment.
Past-life memories surfaced briefly—
Graduations.
Alliances forged.
Rivals crushed.
But none compared to this world.
Here—
Terror was currency.
Fear was nourishment.
Evolution was literal.
He exhaled slowly, savoring the silence of a perfectly fed Flaw.
"Camp was a harvest," he murmured.
"The Rift… a banquet."
And now—
Fame itself had become a leash… for others.
A knock sounded at the door.
Sharp.
Official.
A Legion courier stood outside, presenting a sealed crimson envelope embossed with command sigils.
Inside:
**Formal Invitation — Dread Legion Command**
High Captain audience requested.
Recognition of potential.
Discussion of service.
A subtle line at the bottom:
> *Declination will be… noted.*
Xia Ying smiled faintly.
Predatory.
"The leash arrives early," he whispered.
Comms pinged moments later—Lin Mei and Wei Jun.
"Legion command wants you?! That's huge!"
He gazed out toward the distant Rift-scarred skyline.
*Their hunger calls,* he thought.
*Mine answers.*
The game had deepened.
And he had just stepped onto a far larger board.