Snap out of it!
Kael violently wrenched his hand away from the dummy, tearing his skin in the process.
He stumbled backward into the shadows just as the courtyard erupted into total panic. Instructors were shouting, drawing their weapons, assuming it was an attack by a rival Clan or a Dissonant breach.
"The main grid is completely drained!" a technician yelled from the balcony. "Something just ate a month's worth of Resonance in three seconds!"
Kael didn't stay to listen. He slipped through the chaotic crowd, clutching his chest.
He sprinted toward the old, abandoned wing of the Academy—the Restricted Archives. He needed a place to hide. He needed a place to process what was happening to him.
He burst through the heavy wooden doors of the archive, collapsing against a dusty bookshelf. He was panting, sweating profusely.
He felt... incredible.
The agonizing emptiness he had felt his entire life was gone. His muscles felt dense, buzzing with stolen kinetic energy. He looked at his hands. When he focused, the world shifted. He could suddenly see the faint trails of Resonance lingering in the air, glowing like golden dust motes.
I absorbed it. All of it. I don't produce power... I steal it.
If the Vanguard Elite found out, they wouldn't just expel him. They would dissect him. A human who could drain an entire grid was a threat to the world order. He was a parasite in a world of producers.
Kael walked deeper into the dark archives, dragging his fingers along the spines of ancient, forbidden texts. He needed answers. What was this ability? Had there ever been someone else without a Core who could do this?
He reached the very back of the room, where the restricted texts were chained to the walls.
One book caught his eye. It had no title. The leather was black, pulsing with a faint, almost imperceptible dark aura that perfectly matched the feeling inside his chest.
Kael reached out, breaking the rusted chain with a single, effortlessly strong tug—a testament to his newly stolen physical power.
He wiped the dust from the cover. As his fingers traced the binding, a sharp, freezing pain lanced through his skull.
The world around him vanished. The dusty library dissolved into an infinite expanse of starry darkness.
And then, a voice, deep and resonant, echoed directly inside his brain.
"A Hollow vessel. No... a perfect vessel."
Kael spun around, his fists raised. "Who's there?"
A pair of massive, glowing crimson eyes opened in the darkness above him.
"You stole my scraps, boy," the ancient voice purred. "But the seal on your soul is cracking. The world thought you were broken. They did not realize you were built to consume the Gods themselves."