Re:Birth: A Slow Burn LitRPG Mage Regressor

Kim counted cobblestones as he walked. Not intentionally - his mind just did that sometimes. Seventeen across on this street. Twenty-three on the last one. The numbers helped steady his nerves, gave him something to focus on besides the shadows that seemed to move when he wasn’t looking directly at them.

The night air bit at his face. Clean streets, he thought. Too clean. The usual litter and debris had been swept away for the Crown Prince’s visit, leaving the cobblestones eerily pristine in the lamplight. Everything looked wrong without its normal layer of city grime.

A cat darted across his path.

Kim jumped.

”Argh!”

Then immediately felt foolish.

His hands wouldn’t stop shaking. He shoved them into his pockets, fingers brushing against the folded documents. The paper felt like it was burning through his coat.

Twenty-nine cobblestones across here.

A couple walked past, laughing about something. Kim pressed himself against a wall to let them pass, heart hammering. Just normal people, enjoying a normal evening. Not everyone was out to-

He cut that thought off. Paranoia wouldn’t help. Though maybe a little paranoia was warranted, given what he’d learned about his funders. About what they’d planned to do with his work.

The Royal Quarter loomed ahead, its white stone walls gleaming under enchanted lamps. Thirty-two cobblestones across. Guards in polished armor stood at attention, their faces impassive behind their helmets.

And behind them... Kim swallowed hard. The other guards. The ones that didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just... watched. Their black armor seemed to drink in the light, making them look like holes cut into the night itself. Imperial Shadows, some called them. The Crown Prince’s personal guard.

”State your business,” one of the regular guards said as Kim approached.

”I need to see Prince Kalyon.” Kim’s voice cracked. He cleared his throat. ”It’s urgent.”

”The hour is late. Return tomorrow-”

”Please.” Kim stepped forward. The guards tensed. ”Tell him Professor Amadeus Kim is here. He knows me. We’re...” Friends felt too presumptuous suddenly. ”We’ve worked together. For years. Please. It’s important.”

The guard studied him for a long moment. One of the Shadows turned its head slightly - the smallest movement, but it made Kim’s skin crawl.

”Wait here.”

Kim counted cobblestones while they verified his identity. Forty-seven across at the gate. The numbers weren’t helping anymore. His mind kept spinning back to his laboratory, to the remains of his life’s work scattered across the floor. Twenty-three years of research. Gone. Because he’d been too blind to see how it was being twisted.

”Professor?”

Kim looked up. A different guard had returned.

”His Highness will see you. Follow me.”

They led him through torch-lit corridors, past tapestries and suits of armor. Two of the Shadows fell into step behind them, their footsteps making no sound on the stone floor. Kim tried not to think about them. Tried not to imagine what they might do if they knew what he carried.

More corridors. More turns. Kim lost count of the cobblestones.

Finally, they stopped before an ornate door. The guard knocked twice.

”Enter.”

The door swung open, and there was Kalyon, bent over a desk covered in papers. He looked up, and Kim nearly collapsed with relief at the familiar face.

”Amadeus?” The prince’s brow furrowed with concern. ”What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Kalyon looked exactly as Kim remembered - those striking blue eyes, dark raven hair, and that carefully trimmed beard he’d started wearing in recent years. Twelve years Kim’s junior, but you wouldn’t know it from the way he carried himself. Even hunched over his desk like this, there was something quietly regal about him.

Strange to think that once upon a time, this man had just been an eager young noble who’d spend hours in Kim’s laboratory, pestering him with questions about magical theory. Kim hadn’t even known he was speaking to the future Crown Prince until the announcement was made. Now, fifteen years later...

”Amadeus?” Kalyon stood, concern etching deeper lines in his face. ”Sit down before you fall down. When was the last time you slept?”

Kim tried to remember. Had it been four hours ago? Six? Everything before the golem’s visit felt like one long blur.

”Here.” Kalyon was already moving to a cabinet near his desk. ”You look like you could use this.”

He pulled out a dark bottle, its surface covered in spiraling runes that pulsed with a soft purple light. The cork came free with a soft pop that seemed to release the scent of summer flowers.

”Moonbloom wine,” Kalyon explained, pouring two glasses. ”From the floating vineyards of Celestia. They say the grapes absorb starlight, and the wine soothes troubled minds.” He handed one to Kim. ”From my private collection.”

Kim wasn’t much of a wine person - most of it just tasted like spoiled grape juice to him - but he took the glass gratefully. His hands were still shaking. He drained half of it in one swallow.

Oh.

This... this wasn’t like any wine he’d tasted before. It was summer afternoon naps and cool morning breezes. Warm blankets on cold days. The satisfaction of solving a particularly tricky equation.

He finished the rest in another gulp.

”Careful there.” Kalyon chuckled, taking a measured sip from his own glass. ”This isn’t tavern swill. One glass of this could buy a small house in the merchant district.”

And yet he’d opened it without hesitation, just because Kim looked troubled. That was Kalyon all over - the same generosity he’d shown as a young man, always ready to share whatever he had. Even now, as Crown Prince, that hadn’t changed.

”Thank you,” Kim said quietly. ”I needed that.”

”I can see that.” Kalyon set his glass down, all traces of humor falling away. ”What’s happened, Amadeus? I haven’t seen you this shaken since that time you accidentally turned half your laboratory staff into geese.”

”That was an accident! And I turned them back!” The protest came automatically, but Kim’s heart wasn’t in it. The wine had steadied his hands, but the weight of what he carried still pressed down on him. ”I... I need your help, Kalyon. And what I’m about to tell you... it’s going to sound impossible. Terrible. But I can prove every word.”

Kalyon studied him for a long moment, then reached for the bottle again.

”I think,” he said carefully, ”we’re both going to need another glass for this conversation.”

Kim told him everything.

The project, the breakthroughs, the funding that had seemed so legitimate. His voice grew stronger as he laid out the evidence, spreading ledgers and letters across Kalyon’s desk. Guild seals, merchant stamps, trading contracts - all leading back to names and organizations that made his blood run cold.

Kalyon listened intently, asking sharp questions that cut straight to the heart of things. Though not a mage himself, he’d always had an almost academic passion for magical theory - now that same analytical mind picked apart the conspiracy thread by thread.

”And this merchant seal here,” Kalyon tapped one of the letters, ”you’re certain it connects to those ’Children of the Moon’ you talked about?”

”The markings match their known trading houses.” Kim’s hands shook slightly as he pulled out another parchment. ”And look at the timing of these shipments. Every major breakthrough, every advancement - gold and resources moved through these same channels.”

Something flickered across Kalyon’s face - so brief Kim almost missed it. Anger? No, something else. The prince took another slow sip of wine, his eyes never leaving the papers.

”They played me for a fool,” Kim said bitterly. ”All these years, thinking I was working for the betterment of the Empire, and instead...” He gestured helplessly at the evidence. ”They were going to turn it into a weapon. Something that could kill millions. Maybe more. Definitely more.”

”And you destroyed the prototype?” Kalyon’s voice was carefully neutral.

”Yes. Completely. There’s nothing left for them to steal or replicate.” Kim leaned forward. ”But that’s not enough. These people, these organizations - they need to be stopped. Arrested. Their whole network torn apart before they can try again with someone else’s research.”

Kalyon stood abruptly, walking to the window. His shoulders were tense under his formal robes.

”This is... troubling,” he said finally. ”Very troubling. Foreign powers and criminal enterprises, operating so boldly within our borders...” He took another drink, longer this time. ”You did the right thing coming to me, Amadeus.”

”I knew you’d understand.” Relief flooded through Kim. ”You’ve always cared about doing what’s right. Even back when you were just that eager young noble pestering me about theoretical magic.”

A small smile touched Kalyon’s lips, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. ”Those were simpler times, weren’t they?”

”They were.” Kim straightened. ”So what’s our next step? The Imperial Guard could-”

”Let me handle this.” Kalyon’s voice had an edge to it now. ”This level of conspiracy... we need to move carefully. One wrong step could send them all scurrying back into their holes.”

He returned to his desk, rifling through the documents with clear agitation. His movements were sharp, precise - almost angry. Kim watched him with growing concern. He’d never seen Kalyon this unsettled.

”You’re worried,” Kim said softly.

”Of course I’m worried.” Kalyon knocked back the rest of his wine. ”This goes deeper than you realize, Amadeus. The implications...” He shook his head. ”I’ll need time to verify everything. To make sure we have an airtight case before we move.”

”But-”

”Trust me.” Kalyon’s blue eyes locked onto his. ”I will see justice done. You have my word.”

The intensity in his voice was reassuring. This was why Kim had come to him - because Kalyon had always been someone who fought for what was right. Someone who cared about more than just power and politics.

”Thank you,” Kim said. ”I knew I could count on you.”

Something passed across Kalyon’s face - too quick to read. He poured himself another glass of wine, his movements controlled but somehow tense.

”You should get some rest,” he said. ”You look exhausted. I’ll have guards escort you home.”

”But shouldn’t we-”

”Rest, Amadeus. You’ve done your part. Let me handle things from here.”

Kim wanted to argue, but exhaustion was starting to crash over him in waves. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the weight finally lifting from his shoulders. Either way, his eyes felt heavy.

”You’re right,” he admitted. ”I haven’t slept since...” He couldn’t even remember.

Everything would be alright now. Kalyon would handle it. Justice would be done.

Kim pushed himself to his feet, muscles protesting after sitting so long. ”I’ll be counting on you then, Your Highness.”

”Before you go.” Kalyon’s voice was casual. Too casual. ”Who gave you these documents?”

Kim hesitated. ”You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

”Try me.” The prince’s smile was gentle, encouraging. The same smile he’d worn when asking about magical theorems years ago.

”It was... a golem.”

”A golem?” Kalyon’s eyebrows rose.

”See? You don’t believe me.”

”No, no. Please, explain.” Kalyon leaned forward.

”I don’t know much about whoever was controlling it. They just... appeared.” Kim shrugged helplessly. ”Left the documents, warned me about the project.”

Kalyon pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a long breath. Not worry - annoyance?

Kim laughed. ”You know what’s funny? You look more inconvenienced than concerned.” He shook his head, still chuckling. ”I just handed you a conspiracy that could shake the Empire. Solving this, exposing these people - it would make you a hero. Even as Crown Prince, that kind of popularity would be invaluable, and yet...”

Kalyon’s eyes snapped to his, a flash of something dangerous there and gone so fast Kim almost missed it. The laughter died in his throat.

Wait.

The pieces were there, scattered in his mind like puzzle fragments. Years of casual conversations. Of sharing breakthroughs over wine. Of Kalyon’s endless fascination with his work...

That merchant at the prince’s 20th birthday celebration. What was his name? Kim had forgotten, but he remembered the way the man had smiled, had mentioned knowing someone who’d be interested in funding magical research. Had introduced him to Fox just a week later.

Fox, who’d always seemed to know exactly what direction to push their research. Who’d asked such specific questions about applications Kim hadn’t even considered yet.

The same questions Kalyon had asked, years earlier, presented as mere intellectual curiosity.

Oh.

Oh no.

Kim’s throat went dry. His heart started hammering against his ribs, thoughts scattering like startled birds. ”Y-you’re right,” he managed, voice steadier than he felt. ”I should get some rest.”

The prince didn’t look like his old friend anymore. He looked like what he truly was - a lion who’d been playing with his food for years.

Stay calm. Stay calm. His hands were trembling. He forced them still.

”G-goodnight, Your Highness.” Kim turned toward the door, pulse thundering in his ears. Just a few steps. Just-

”Stop.”

Kalyon’s voice had changed. It was hard to explain, but the most poetic, and easy way was that it felt like the warmth was gone

Kim’s hand froze on the door handle.

”You know,” Kalyon said conversationally, ”I always admired how quick your mind was. How you could take scattered pieces of information and assemble them into a coherent whole.” The sound of wine being poured. ”It’s part of what made you such a valuable asset.”

Kim’s fingers tightened on the handle. His thoughts raced, analyzing options, calculating odds. The guards outside. The distance to the window. The drop to the courtyard below.

”Though I must admit,” Kalyon continued, ”I had hoped you wouldn’t put it together quite so... obviously. Your face has always been an open book, old friend.”

The last two words dripped with mockery. Kim’s shoulders tensed.

”Turn around, Amadeus.”

He didn’t want to. Every instinct screamed at him to run. But where could he go? What could he do?

Slowly, feeling like a puppet on strings, Kim turned.

Kalyon was still sitting at his desk, wine glass in hand. But his eyes... his eyes were different now. No more pretense of warmth. No more fake concern.

Just cold, calculating interest.

Like a researcher watching an experiment unfold.

”I think we should talk a bit more.” The prince said.

I’ve been such a fool.

For years, he’d been such a perfect, blind fool.

*****

Phew. Focus. Focus.

Adom rubbed his palms together, too aware of how clammy they felt. He’d thought these kinds of sensations were behind him by now. Apparently not. His fingers drummed against his leg as he stared at the circles drawn on the table, hyper-conscious of the presence behind him. Amazing how the weight of someone’s attention could make even the simplest task feel like defusing a bomb.

Alchemy, as any alchemist could tell you, was all about understanding. Not just knowing - actually understanding. The difference between reading about swimming and actually getting in the water, so to speak. And right now, Adom was definitely in the deep end.

It didn’t help that elemental essences were tricky things to work with. Raw mana was straightforward enough - pure magical energy, like white light. But essences? Those were trickier.

They were mana that had been filtered, transformed into specialized forms that resonated with specific aspects of nature. Like that white light passing through different colored glasses, each essence had its own ’flavor’ of magical energy. Water essence spoke to water, air essence to air, and so on.

Which was exactly why alchemists used them instead of raw mana. You could technically hammer a nail with a rock, but wouldn’t you rather use a hammer?

He stared at the clear water in the beaker, fingers hovering over the chalk circles he’d drawn. Three circles surrounded the main one, not five - no need for unnecessary elements in this transformation.

The runes were precise - he’d made sure of that. One wrong line, one wobbly curve, and instead of sweet water, he might end up with something that could melt through the floor. Again.

”Take your time,” Professor Mirwen said from somewhere behind him. ”The water isn’t going anywhere.”

Right. No pressure. Just trying to convince water molecules to fundamentally change their nature while one of the academy’s most respected alchemists watched his every move. Simple.

Adom adjusted his glasses, activating Riddler’s Bane. He did not really need to adjust them to use the artifact, but somehow, it became a habit.

The world shifted, magical currents becoming visible. The water wasn’t just water anymore - it was a dance of molecules, a symphony of hydrogen and oxygen bonds waiting to be conducted. Through the artifact’s lens, he could see how the molecular bonds vibrated, how they might be... persuaded to change.

”Remember,” Professor Mirwen’s voice carried that teaching tone he’d come to recognize, ”what elements do you actually need for this transformation? Many students make the mistake of using all five elements for every change.”

Adom nodded, studying the circles he’d drawn. Water essence in the first circle - that was obvious. You needed water to change water, establish a connection with the substance’s fundamental nature. Air essence in the second - to alter how the molecules would interact with taste buds, carry the sweetness. And mana in the third, to power and stabilize the change.

No fire needed - he wasn’t trying to heat or excite the molecules. No earth either - this wasn’t about physical stability. Sweet water was still water, just... friendlier to the tongue.

He touched the water circle first. This was the trickiest part - using water essence to change water itself. Like trying to paint water with water. But it wasn’t about adding more water - it was about reshaping what was already there, encouraging new patterns to form.

Through Riddler’s Bane, he could see the molecular bonds shifting, becoming more receptive to change. The liquid in the beaker rippled slightly.

Air essence next. This wasn’t about adding air to water - that would just make bubbles. Instead, he guided the essence to alter how the water molecules would interact with taste buds. It was like teaching the water to speak a new language, one that would say ”sweet” instead of ”neutral” when it met the tongue.

The liquid began to shimmer faintly as the changes took hold.

Finally, mana. Not too much - this wasn’t some grand transformation requiring vast power. Just enough to bind the changes, make them permanent. Like setting a painting after the colors were perfect.

The water cleared, looking deceptively ordinary. That was good - sweet water shouldn’t look different from regular water. The change was subtle, internal.

Professor Mirwen stepped forward, her rings catching the light as she reached for the beaker. Adom held his breath as she dipped one finger into the liquid, then brought it to her lips.

Time seemed to stretch. She didn’t immediately spit it out - that was good. She wasn’t turning purple or growing extra limbs - even better. But her expression remained neutral, unreadable.

Adom’s palms were sweating. He’d checked and double-checked every step, balanced each essence carefully, followed every law to the letter. But alchemy was finicky. One microscopic mistake in how the molecules were arranged...

Finally, Professor Mirwen smiled.

”Perfect. Clean, sweet, with no artificial aftertaste.” She set the beaker down with a satisfied nod. ”And more importantly, you understood exactly what elements were needed - no more, no less. That’s the mark of a true alchemist in training.”

A long breath escaped Adom as his shoulders relaxed. He hadn’t realized how tense he’d been until the moment passed.

”That was amazing!” Mia’s voice came from behind him, followed by the sound of her stool scraping against the floor as she stood. ”The molecular manipulation was so precise.”

”Thanks,” Adom said, turning to face her. ”That book you recommended in the library really helped.”

Mia waved her hand dismissively. ”Oh please, that was just a book. You managed to grasp advanced molecular manipulation in what, one week? That’s not the book - that’s talent.”

”You’re one to talk,” Professor Mirwen said with a smile as she carefully placed the beaker back on the testing station. ”If I recall correctly, you mastered this particular transformation in just a week as well, Miss Storm. It’s refreshing to have two students who grasp these concepts so naturally. Makes teaching advanced classes much more interesting.”

Adom shifted uncomfortably in his chair, forcing a polite smile. ”I just... have a knack for understanding mana, I suppose.”

The special course wrapped up without ceremony.

They gathered their things, exchanged casual goodbyes, and headed their separate ways. As Adom walked through the academy’s stone corridors, his mind wandered to the possibilities his growing alchemical knowledge might offer. Perhaps soon he could try-

”Student Adom Sylla!”

The harsh caw made him look up. A raven circled once before dropping a piece of paper in his direction. Before he could catch it-

”Hey!”

Adom snatched the paper from the air and turned around. One of the new guards was approaching - young, probably in his mid-twenties, with the crisp uniform that hadn’t yet seen enough weather to lose its stiffness.

”Evening,” the guard said, his tone friendly but professional. ”Cutting it a bit close to curfew, aren’t we?”

”Just heading back to the dorms,” Adom replied, tucking the paper into his pocket.

The guard - his name tag read ’Morris’ - nodded. ”Make sure you do. First week on the job and I’ve already had to write up three students for trying to sneak out after dark.” He shook his head. ”You’d think with everything that’s happened, people would be more careful.”

”Some students don’t like being confined,” Adom said diplomatically.

”Better confined than dead,” Morris replied, then winced. ”Sorry, that was blunt. Just... we’re here to keep you lot safe, you know?”

Adom nodded, knowing all too well why such measures were necessary. The past week had been chaos incarnate. Ever since Gus and the death of his familiar, Gizmo, Xerkes had transformed from a prestigious magical institution into something approaching a fortress. The murder of a familiar was no small matter - it left permanent scars on both the magical and emotional level. That someone would do it so casually spoke volumes about what they were dealing with.

The investigation hadn’t helped matters. Every student named Law - all one thousand four hundred and thirty-eight of them, boys and girls - had been questioned, their backgrounds examined, their movements tracked. Adom’s stomach churned every time he thought about it. All those students under suspicion because of his actions’ ripple effects.

And then there was Professor Kim’s disappearance. No trace of him since the night of the golem incident. The official story was that he’d taken an emergency leave of absence, but nobody really believed that.

”Just stay safe, alright?” Morris said, breaking into Adom’s thoughts. ”Whatever’s going on out there... it’s not worth risking your neck over.”

”No argument here,” Adom replied, managing a small smile. ”Have a good evening.”

The academy grounds were eerily quiet. The usually bustling courtyards lay empty, gardens deserted save for the occasional patrol. The new curfew had changed everything.

Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

A flash of orange caught Adom’s eye near the gates. He ignored it.

”Psst.”

He kept walking.

”Psst!”

Still walking.

”PSSST! I know you can hear me!”

”WHAT?” Adom turned toward the gates, exasperated.

A fox beastkin in a rumpled journalist’s vest was attempting - and failing spectacularly - to hide behind a bush that was clearly too small to conceal him. ”Hey, hey, could you come here for a minute? Just a few questions about Professor Kim-”

Adom turned around, spotted a guard, and pointed at the gates. As he walked away, he heard the guard’s stern warning about the barrier’s imminent activation, followed by the journalist’s indignant protests about technically being outside school grounds.

This had become depressingly routine over the past week. Journalists were like vultures circling the academy, hoping to catch any snippet of information about two major stories. The attack on Gus and Gizmo’s death was one thing. But Kim’s disappearance? That was different.

Merris had found the files Adom left in Kim’s office. What was in them had been serious enough for the headmaster to do something almost unheard of - he’d summoned a council from the Magisterium. The Archmage himself would be coming to Xerkes.

That announcement had thrown the academy into a frenzy of speculation. Some said Kim had been conducting forbidden research. Others whispered about conspiracy, about dark forces moving in the shadows. A particularly popular theory suggested he’d discovered something so dangerous that he’d been ”disappeared” for everyone’s safety.

Adom paused at his dorm room door, hearing the rhythmic count of Sam’s new evening workout routine through the wood. ”...eighteen... nineteen...”

The paper crinkled in his pocket. He pulled it out, unfolding it carefully. The raven’s message was brief:

”Order ready for collection. Find us where the Merchant’s old road meets the three sisters’ tears, when the moon kisses the eastern tower.”

The corner of his mouth twitched up. Adom wasn’t aware Cisco liked dramatic codes. Or was this Eren’s idea?

The old road was obvious enough - the abandoned market district. Three sisters’ tears would be the fountain with the triple spouts. And the moon’s position... that gave him the time. Tomorrow night, then.

A smile spread across his face. With those two elements, he could finally synthesize a proper cure. One more problem solved without-

The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. He mentally kicked himself for even thinking that. Nothing was ever that simple. The moment you thought things would go smoothly was exactly when the universe decided to remind you just how wrong you could be.

”...twenty-one... twenty-two...”

Shaking his head, Adom pushed open the door just as Sam hit his final count.

”...twenty-four... twenty-five!” Sam’s arms trembled slightly as he held the last position before letting himself drop to the floor. He rolled over, grinning up at Adom from his spot on the worn dormitory carpet. ”Hey.”

”Twenty-five? New record!” Adom grinned back.

”Right?” Sam’s face lit up. ”Started with ten last week. Pretty good, huh?”

”You’re actually sticking to it,” Adom said, dropping his bag by his desk. ”I’m impressed.”

Sam sat up, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. ”Well, what else am I gonna do? Can’t exactly go anywhere after six.” He stretched, joints popping. ”Besides, check this out.”

He flexed his arm, and Adom had to admit - there was definitely more definition there than a week ago. The daily routine was paying off.

”See?” Sam’s grin widened. ”Feel it! That’s actual muscle!”

”Yes, yes, you’re very impressive,” Adom said, but he was smiling too. It was good to see Sam focused on something productive, even if it was just a workout routine.

”Give me another week,” Sam declared, standing up. His shirt was dark with sweat patches. ”I’ll be able to bench press you.”

”Please don’t try.”

”No promises!” Sam called over his shoulder, already heading for the door with his towel. ”Gonna grab a shower before the hot water runs out.”

”Sammy. You’re literally a mage.”

”Yeah, but heating cold water isn’t the same as properly hot water. It gets all... weird. Like reheated tea.” Sam and Adom both made a face. Reheated tea. What an odd thing to drink. Horrible, actually. ”Besides, do you know how much concentration it takes to maintain the right temperature while you’re trying to wash your hair? I’d rather just have normal hot water.”

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Adom alone with his thoughts and the lingering smell of exercise in the air. Which, when you thought about it, was basically sweat particles. Gross.

The sound of running water filled the quiet room as Adom settled on his bed, mind drifting through his mental checklist. The notification from the academy’s office this morning still made him smile - his mother would be here in three days. She’d been held up by her healer duties, but soon she’d arrive by boat in Arkhos.

How should he even react when he saw her? Play it cool like he used to? Try to maintain that aloof dignity he’d worn like armor in his younger days?

He snorted. Who was he kidding?

Full-on bear hug. That was the only way. He’d wrap his arms around her and refuse to let go. Simple as that.

But first things first - his health. The cure would need two weeks of careful brewing once he had everything mixed properly. Eren had already gotten most of the ingredients - they sat waiting in his inventory. Just the water and the heart left to go. He’d picked up alchemy hoping to reverse-engineer the Elixir of Rebirth, but maybe that wouldn’t be necessary anymore.

And the day after tomorrow would bring the armor and gauntlets too. His mind wandered to what they’d look like, how they’d feel. Another piece of the puzzle falling into place.

Adom kicked off his shoes and changed into his new night clothes, inhaling deeply. That fresh-clothes smell never got old. The three-headed spider silk felt nothing like what one would expect - instead of sleek and cool, it was more like wearing a cloud, soft and somehow both sturdy and gentle against his skin. One of those materials that just knew what you needed - cool when you were warm, cozy when you were cold.

He reached for the small pouch the Veyshari sorceress had given him. The [Identify] skill had revealed it as a Class B calming herb - maybe she’d noticed how worn out he’d looked? He brewed it carefully, watching the water turn a soft amber color. The aroma slowly filled the room, sweet and natural, like someone had stirred honey into it, but better somehow. More... real.

The first sip confirmed what his nose had told him. It was good - really good. Easy to drink, with none of the bitter aftertaste most medicinal teas had. He could feel the tension in his shoulders starting to ease already.

Adom then sank into his bed, immediately seeking out the cold side of his pillow. Some things never changed - even with the chill in the air, nothing beat that first contact with the cool, fluffy surface. The mattress welcomed him with that perfect balance between soft and firm, and he pulled up his heavy blanket - one of his mother’s parting gifts when he’d left for Xerkes.

The phoenix of House Sylla spread its wings across the blanket’s surface, the kind of dramatic design only mothers and grandmothers seemed to find appropriate for bedding. He smiled, curling his toes under the cover. Even now, years later, he still kept his feet firmly beneath it. Just in case.

Sam’s horrible humming drifted through the shower noise - something that would normally drive him up the wall, but tonight it just blended into a sort of peaceful white noise. The world was still a mess - missing professor, academy in chaos, tension thick in the air - but for the first time in ages, he could see a way forward. Get the cure. Get out of danger. Train Eren until the kid could handle himself and Adom not having to carry the weight of the world alone on his shoulders.

The incense he’d lit was doing its job, cinnamon and vanilla replacing Sam’s lingering workout smell and mixing with that new-clothes smell he loved so much. The incense, of course. Not the sweat.

His thoughts began to drift, becoming hazier, warmer. The familiar weight of the blanket, the soft pillow beneath his head, the distant hum of crickets outside - everything felt right.

For once, tomorrow didn’t seem so daunting.

*****

Adom woke before his alarm, stretching out like a cat in the warm patch of sunlight that had found its way through the window.

For once, he’d actually slept well. Really well. There had been a dream - something about a tree? An apple tree, maybe. The details were already fading, leaving behind only a vague sense of peace and the image of branches swaying in a breeze.

Birds were chattering outside, having their usual morning debates. He lay there for a moment, watching dust motes dance in the early light, joints popping as he stretched again. The bed was almost too comfortable to leave, but his stomach had other ideas.

”Look who’s up early,” Sam commented from his side of the room, already halfway through his morning pushups. ”Nine... ten...”

Adom just hummed in response, joining him for a shorter set. His arms protested at first, but the movement helped shake off the last bits of sleep. Besides, he’d promised himself he’d at least try to keep up with Sam’s new fitness kick.

The cold water from the tap made him hiss - someone really needed to fix the temperamental heating runes in their bathroom.

With the new curfew in place, students had nothing better to do than shower or bathe at the same time, and the ancient heating system clearly wasn’t built for this kind of strain. At least a two thousand people trying to get hot water at once did funny things to the runes.

He splashed his face anyway, the shock fully waking him up. The mint taste of toothpaste helped too, though he had to dodge Sam’s elbow twice while they shared the small mirror.

”Dining hall today?” Sam suggested, adjusting his tie. ”They’re doing the full breakfast spread.”

The suggestion was enough to break their usual routine of tea and whatever they could scrounge up in their room. The dining hall was quieter than usual this early, the morning light streaming through the high windows making everything look a bit softer, a bit more welcoming.

Adom loaded his plate with poached eggs that actually looked poached instead of drowned, the yolks still perfectly runny, ready to burst. The bacon was crispy enough to snap, and they were glistening. Literally glistening.

The pancakes came in a tall stack, golden-brown and fluffy, with butter melting slowly down the sides and pooling with the maple syrup. Warm buttered toast, perfectly crisp on the outside and soft inside, sat next to a generous helping of slow-cooked beans in a rich sauce that begged to be soaked up with the bread.

The food at the academy was usually good - they had to keep their mages-in-training well-fed, after all - but lately it seemed they were pulling out all the stops. Maybe guilt over the curfew had the kitchen staff feeling generous. The black tea was proper black tea too, not the watered-down stuff they usually served later in the morning, strong and fragrant with just the right amount of bite.

”They have Slimy for dessert,” Sam pointed out, already reaching for the wobbling, iridescent dish. There was no need to elaborate on why it was called Slimy, nor discuss its ingredients. Some things were better left unquestioned, especially when they tasted that good.

First class was Runicology - a class Adom rarely paid attention to - which meant Professor Karn would spend half the lecture telling stories about his glory days instead of teaching. Adom didn’t mind - it gave him time to properly digest breakfast, and some of those stories were actually useful. Sometimes.

The morning passed in that strange way mornings do when you’re actually awake for them - not quite rushing, not quite dragging. By the time early classes wrapped up, Adom felt more put together than he had in weeks. Maybe there was something to this whole ”proper sleep and actual breakfast” thing after all.

Classes wrapped up earlier than usual - something about a staff meeting that no one questioned too closely. Adom was packing his books when Sam appeared at his shoulder, that familiar grin on his face.

”Club tonight,” Sam said, not really asking. ”Found a way to control ice spells for frozen desserts. Think I finally cracked it. Plus, brought that board game from home - the one with the moving pieces that try to eat each other.”

Adom shouldered his bag. ”I’ll join later tonight.”

”Promise?” Sam raised an eyebrow. ”And try not to get into trouble before then?”

That got a laugh out of Adom. ”We have a curfew. How much trouble could I possibly get into?”

”I don’t know how you do it,” Sam shook his head, ”but you seem to have a special talent for finding it lately.”

”Your confidence in me is touching.”

”Just be there tonight. The dessert actually works. Probably won’t even give anyone brain freeze.”

”That’s a low bar.”

”Better than zero.”

They parted ways at the corridor junction - Sam heading toward the club room, Adom turning toward the east wing where an empty classroom was being renovated. The sound of Sam’s footsteps faded, replaced by the quiet echo of his own against the old stone floors.

The classroom door clicked shut behind him, lock sliding into place with a quiet snap. Dust motes swirled in the air, disturbed by his movement through the half-renovated room. Paint cans and tarps created strange shadows in the corners as Adom settled by the window, watching as the moon climbed higher.

Right on schedule, the academy’s barrier shimmered to life - that familiar, almost invisible ripple in the air that meant curfew was starting. Perfect timing.

The golem emerged from his inventory with a soft hum. He draped a heavy cloak he recently bought over it, adjusting the fabric until it hung naturally enough to pass for a person. At least in the dark.

The talisman felt cool against his arm as he secured it.

No way he was going out there himself, not with everything going on. He’d told Eren to make that clear to Cisco. The children were watching too closely now. So he’d stayed put all week, sending Eren on errands instead.

Poor kid. Adom made a mental note to treat him to one of those fancy places in the merchant district once this was all over. Maybe that new place near the textile market that Eren kept looking at whenever they passed by.

He did miss going out, though. The thought of Mr. Biggins’ shop crossed his mind - had the old man returned yet? Another problem for another day. One crisis at a time.

Less than a week ago, before curfew started, Eren had shown him the meeting spot Cisco had chosen - the old fountain tucked away in one of those forgotten courtyards the city seemed to collect. Three spouts, all broken now, hidden behind overgrown vines and decades of neglect. Smart choice. The kind of place locals avoided out of habit and visitors never found. The perfect spot for exchanges that needed to stay quiet.

Adom checked the moon’s position one last time, then activated the talisman. Consciousness split. Crystal activated.

Then Blip.

The golem materialized in a narrow alley, three blocks from the meeting point. Intentional. Through its eyes, Adom scanned the surroundings, the newly added night vision based rune in the construct giving everything a subtle blue tinge.

Back in the classroom, Adom’s real body settled more comfortably against the wall, but his shoulders remained tense. Safe or not, this kind of remote work always left him feeling exposed.

The golem moved with measured steps, its cloak barely rustling. The empty streets felt quiet, the kind of quiet that made every small sound seem important. Water dripping from somewhere. Wind moving loose tiles. The distant echo of what might have been footsteps, or might have been nothing at all.

Adom guided it past boarded-up shopfronts, keeping to the shadows. Each corner meant stopping, listening, looking. Everything, ordinary or not, looked suspicious. A hanging sign became a crouched figure. A pile of crates transformed into potential hiding spots.

Not paranoia if they’re actually looking for you, he reminded himself, forcing his real breathing to stay steady even as the golem’s magical senses strained for any sign of movement.

A sudden flash of movement to the left-

The golem’s arm came up, Flamebrand sword flaring to life beneath the cloak, ready to-

Oh. It was a rat.

It sat on its haunches, whiskers twitching as it stared directly at the golem. Through the construct’s eyes, Adom stared back at it.

”Did you know you were about two seconds away from being turned into very small, very crispy pieces, little guy?”

The rat scratched its ear, distinctly unimpressed, then disappeared into a drain.

Two more blocks to go. The fountain’s courtyard would be just past that row of abandoned houses, through the narrow passage that Eren had shown him. Every step brought him closer, and every step made the back of his neck prickle more, despite his physical body being safely behind academy walls.

Just because he couldn’t see anyone watching didn’t mean they weren’t there.

The fountain’s courtyard was empty. Completely empty. It was not supposed to be empty.

Strike one.

The golem moved forward - and stopped, its cloak rippling against something invisible. Oh? Adom made it reach out, fingers pressing against a barrier that definitely hadn’t been mentioned by either Cisco or Eren. Strike two. Maybe he should just-

A shiny bald head suddenly popped through the barrier like a particularly aggressive mushroom. It swiveled left, then right. The golem’s sword was out in an instant, the blade getting that one reddish tone before it caught on fire.

”Wait, stop! Don’t kill me!” the head whispered urgently. ”I’m with Cisco! One of his guys!”

The golem kept the sword steady, but didn’t advance.

”Damn. Almost got killed for nothing.” The man’s eyes darted around before settling back on the cloaked figure. ”Huh. You’re pretty tall for a kid.” He squinted. ”Wait, aren’t you supposed to be, like, fourteen or something?”

Through the golem, Adom processed this information with growing confusion. Fourteen?

”Look, come here,” the head whispered, glancing around again. ”It’s not exactly safe out there, you know?”

The golem pointedly gestured for him to come out instead.

”Oh. You can’t talk?” The head tilted. ”Right, right, makes sense. Security and all that.” Another glance around. ”But seriously, you should-”

The golem’s ’you come here’ gesture became more insistent. Followed by a universal ”who even are you?” shrug.

”Fine, fine,” the head sighed, disappearing. A moment later, the entire man materialized right in front of the golem, making Adom jump slightly in his classroom chair. ”Sorry about that. Barrier’s a bit wonky. Shows everything shifted to the left from my side. Kept thinking you were standing next to that broken cart over there.”

The golem lowered its sword, but kept it out.

”Well? Coming in?” The man gestured at the barrier. The golem remained perfectly still.

”Not coming?” He sighed. ”Look, we don’t have all night.”

The golem made a series of gestures - pointing at the man, then making a ’don’t know you’ motion, followed by a ’get someone else’ wave.

”What are you- Is this charades now?” The man squinted, trying to decipher the movements. ”Listen, kid, I’m trying to help here. You want to stand out here all night?”

The golem responded by pointing more emphatically at the barrier, then making an ’X’ with its arms.

”I don’t- what does that even-”

”Egg, what’s going on out here?” Marco emerged from the barrier, looking between them.

”Oh thank the spirits,” Egg threw his hands up. ”I told you not to send me! The kid - who’s big as fuck, by the way-” he turned to the golem, ”no offense-”

”None taken.” Adom said. Back in the classroom.

”-won’t come in because he doesn’t know me, which, fair enough, I guess, but how was I supposed to know that? And now we’re playing magical charades out here in the open like a bunch of-”

Marco pinched the bridge of his nose. ”My apologies...”, he looked up and down at the golem, ”Law. Our lack of... foresight is rather evident.” He shot Egg a look. ”Cisco is waiting inside to finalize your order.”

The barrier rippled as the golem passed through, it looked like walking through a sheet of water. Behind it lay a narrow alley, barely visible in the dim light. Broken crates and discarded barrels lined the walls, creating shadows within shadows. At the end, a small house hunched in the darkness, its windows dark and shuttered.

Marco led the way. ”I wasn’t told you would be sending a golem instead of coming yourself. Quite an advanced one at that.” He kept his voice low, barely above a whisper.

”That ain’t a kid?” Egg’s voice rose sharply in the quiet.

”Shut up.”

”But I thought it was a-”

Marco stopped so suddenly that Egg nearly walked into him. ”I will make you shut up myself if you don’t keep quiet.” The words came out in a harsh whisper. ”This isn’t time for jokes or levity. We have people looking for us, or have you forgotten that?”

Adom had never heard Marco speak like this before. The usually composed man’s face was tight with tension, his shoulders rigid. Through the golem’s vision, Adom could see Marco’s hands trembling slightly before he clenched them into fists.

The man seemed to catch himself then, letting out a slow breath. ”My apologies,” he said, his voice returning to its usual measured tone. ”Things have been... nerve-wracking lately. Business has become increasingly difficult to maintain with the new events in the Undertow.”

The golem nodded.

They reached the house, its door looking ready to fall off its hinges. Marco produced a key from somewhere in his sleeve, the lock clicking open with surprising smoothness for such a decrepit-looking mechanism.

”Let’s go in,” Marco said, holding the door open. The darkness beyond seemed to swallow what little light reached them from the street.

Egg had fallen silent now.

The inside of the house matched its exterior - deliberately shabby. The golem followed Marco through a short hallway and into what might have once been a living room. Now it held only a few chairs, a table, two boxes, and several people Adom recognized.

Cisco and Valiant stood near two wooden crates, the young mouse beastkin’s tail twitching.

”Law,” Cisco nodded, his whiskers twitching. ”Apologies for the barrier, and making you come all the way here. The price on our heads doubled after those... incidents last time. Two thousand silver pieces now.” He gave a humorless laugh. ”Makes being seen in public somewhat problematic. Even our usual dead drops aren’t safe anymore - they’re watching those too closely.”

”Hey Law!” Valiant waved enthusiastically, then paused. ”Wait, is that a golem? Are you a golem?” His eyes widened. ”That’s amazing! The movement is so smooth - most constructs I’ve seen move like they’re made of wooden blocks, but this one-” He took a step forward, tail curling with excitement.

”Valiant.” Cisco’s quiet voice stopped his nephew mid-step. He gestured to two of his men. ”Open the boxes.”

One approached the wooden box, while another carefully lifted the silver case.

The golem stood motionless as the wooden box was placed on the rickety table with a heavy thud. Through it, Adom observed the simple metal clasps.

As the lid lifted, two of the guards stepped back instinctively. ”Gods, I hate that smell,” Egg muttered from somewhere behind them.

Inside, suspended in clear viscous liquid, floated the dark mass of the wyvern heart, nearly the size of a human head. Even through the golem’s sight, Adom could see its pearlescent sheen - the unmistakable mark of a magical creature.

”Thormund hunted it,” Cisco said, glancing at the golem. ”The gentleman who interrupted our first meeting. Lost an arm in the process.”

The golem inclined its head in acknowledgment.

”Don’t be too concerned. He got careless.” Cisco’s whiskers twitched. ”We preserved it in crystalline stasis gel to maintain freshness. Top quality, from the northern alchemists.”

The golem reached forward, its fingers dipping into the gel to test the heart’s surface. Back in his classroom, Adom smiled - despite the indirect contact through the construct, he could tell it was perfect. The preservation was flawless, exactly what the cure would need.

The other case, silver that one, came next, its intricate vine engravings seeming to shift. The guard opened it carefully, revealing a crystal vial no larger than a thumb. The liquid within caught what little light there was, clear yet somehow iridescent - the Water of Jouvance.

Through the golem, Adom studied the vial with satisfaction.

Finally. He thought.

”I trust you brought the payment?” Cisco’s whiskers twitched again.

The golem reached into its cloak, producing several small pouches that landed on the table with soft thuds. It gestured toward them with a fluid motion.

”Marco, if you will.”

The sound of clinking gold filled the room as Marco began counting. One by one. The golem stood silent, its head turning slowly to survey the room. Valiant kept whispering excitedly about the construct’s movements, earning occasional sharp looks from his uncle.

In his classroom, Adom sighed and directed the golem’s gaze away from the enthusiastic young mouse.

That’s when he noticed it - one of Cisco’s men, the one standing near the door, deliberately avoiding the golem’s gaze. His weight shifted from foot to foot, fingers drumming against his thigh.

Adom frowned. Through the golem’s vision, he began cataloging details. Marco, focused on counting. Cisco, watching the process with practiced patience. Valiant, still stealing glances at the golem. The other guards, maintaining their positions with professional detachment.

But that one man... Adom recognized him now. Present at their first meeting, one of those Thormund had roughed up, the one that ran up the statue and knocked himself down. His behavior didn’t match the others. Too much movement. Too much tension. His eyes darted between the door and the windows more frequently than warranted.

Their eyes met briefly before the man looked away again. A thin sheen of sweat had formed on his forehead despite the cool room. His hand twitched, inching toward his sword hilt.

Strike three.

The golem moved with impossible speed. Before the man’s fingers could close around his weapon, the construct’s hand was around his throat, lifting him off the ground. Weapons appeared in every hand - except the nervous man’s, his sword only halfway drawn.

The golem’s free hand pointed deliberately at the man’s partially drawn sword, then made a series of quick gestures toward the windows and door - mimicking the man’s previous nervous glances.

The coins stopped clinking. Marco’s hand froze mid-count.

”Devon?” Cisco’s voice had gone dangerously soft, understanding dawning in his eyes as he observed the golem’s gestures. ”Were you about to do something foolish?”

Devon screamed.

”We’ve been compromised. Move, now!” Cisco’s words cracked through the air like a whip.

The golem hurled Devon at the other guards in a single fluid motion. Just one touch - that’s all Adom needed to jump with the boxes. Three steps to them. Two. One. The construct reached for them, fingers almost brushing the-

A pinpoint of light bloomed in the corner of its vision.

The world twisted.

BAM

The golem crashed through the floorboards, wood exploding outward like shrapnel. In his classroom, Adom’s heart slammed against his ribs as a heavy hand clamped down on the construct’s shoulder. Yesterday’s thoughts mocked him - everything will be fine - as he looked up into Gale’s face.

”Gotcha.”

Helios stood beside him, smiling that knife-edge smile. Adom couldn’t jump - not with Gale’s hand on him here. They’d jump together.

A scream suddenly tore through the air.

Valiant’s voice, high and terrified. Through the construct’s eyes, Adom saw what the young mouse was seeing: Marco, trusted right hand, faithful soldier, with one arm locked around Cisco’s throat.

The mouse beastkin’s feet kicked uselessly at air, his tail thrashing in desperate arcs. Then came the crack - sharp and final. Cisco’s body went limp, his tail dropping like a cut puppet’s string. Marco let the corpse fall, Valiant’s uncle crumpling to the floor like discarded waste.

Time slowed to a crawl. Blue Fluid looking like flames erupted across the golem’s surface as it drew the Flamebrand sword, the motion singing through the air. If it could just strike Gale onc-

”Aha. Not so fast.”

Gale’s fist descended like a meteor. Stone shattered. The shabby house’s floor cratered, dust billowing up around them.

Across the house, chaos exploded. Cisco’s remaining men charged forward with Valiant, weapons glinting. Marco’s knives answered - two flashes of steel. Egg stumbled back, blood flowering at his throat. The second guard crumpled, blade buried between his ribs, his sword clattering uselessly to the floor.

The golem blazed, raw power surging through its frame.

No more restraint.

Adom unleashed everything, the sword’s flames turning white-hot, melting the floorboards beneath it.

”Interesting trick. A golem using Fluid.” Gale’s grip never wavered, even as the golem’s sword carved a burning arc through the air. He caught the blade with his free hand, the metal screaming against his palm. ”But where’s the real you, mage?”

The house erupted into chaos. Marco’s knives flashed in deadly arcs as the remaining guards charged. Valiant lunged at him with a roar of grief, tears streaming down his face. ”You killed him! You killed my uncle!”

”WHERE IS HE MARCO?!” Helios’s voice boomed through the carnage, his eyes wild as he tore through the room. ”WHERE’S THE FUCKING MAGE?!”

Marco slammed the young mouse into the ground with brutal efficiency letting go of what appeared to be a transportation crystal of his own.

The light. Adom realized. The sudden appearance.

”It’s the golem! The mage controls it remotely!” Marco answered Helios.

The golem’s sword broke free from Gale’s grip, leaving a smoking gash across his palm. But Gale just smiled, his other hand still locked on the construct. ”You used a transportation crystal last time, didn’t you? Clever escape trick.” His fist crashed into the golem’s chest, cratering it. ”Where are you hiding it now?”

Bodies hit the floor. Blood sprayed. Marco’s knives found two more throats while Helios upended furniture, growing more frenzied with each empty corner. Valiant scrambled back up, throwing himself at Marco with desperate fury.

The golem’s flames intensified, turning the air itself into a furnace. Its fist connected with Gale’s jaw - finally, a solid hit - but the man barely flinched.

”MAGE!” Helios roared.

Valiant broke free from Marco, charging toward Helios with a dagger. ”I WILL KILL YOU ALL!”

No choice.

Adom jumped.

The world vanished. Then - open sky. Wind howling. City lights spinning below them as they plummeted through darkness. Gale’s grip remained iron-tight, Helios clinging to his other arm, Valiant’s small form tangled between them.

”Got you now-” Gale started.

Adom jumped again.

Salt water exploded around them. The ocean’s cold darkness swallowed them whole. Gale’s grip weakened for a split second - but before Adom could break free, those fingers dug in harder. They tumbled through the depths, a desperate tangle of limbs. Valiant’s tail wrapped around the golem’s wrist as the young mouse fought to stay with them.

Another jump.

Forest canopy, 45 kilometers away from the real Adom, rushing up to meet them.

Another.

Mountain winds screaming past.

Another.

They crashed into the city’s market square, appearing ten feet above cobblestones. Stalls exploded beneath them as they hit. Fruit scattered, bread crushed, people screaming as they scattered from the impossible sight of four figures materializing from thin air.

”Papa!” A little girl’s voice cut through the chaos. She stood frozen, doll clutched to her chest, directly in their path as they tumbled through merchant stands.

”Helios!” Gale’s voice snapped as the other man’s hand reached out, crackling with energy. ”Not children!”

”Shit-” Adom jumped.

The girl’s scream cut off mid-breath as reality twisted again, leaving only destroyed stalls and terrified witnesses behind. The last thing Adom saw was a man running toward the girl, arms outstretched, before the world dissolved once more.

And so, another jump.

Seventy kilometers above the earth. The air burned with cold, so thin it could barely hold sound. Far below, the sprawling city was nothing but a constellation of dim lights, impossibly distant.

Gale’s fist cratered the golem’s chest with devastating precision. Metal shrieked. ”Running out of places to run?”

”WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU, MAGE?!” Helios’s scream tore through the freezing air, his grip like iron bands around the golem’s other arm.

The construct fought with calculated brutality. No wasted energy. Every strike aimed at weak points, pressure points, joints. He did everything right. But these men... they moved like they’d spent lifetimes learning how to kill things that weren’t supposed to die.

In his classroom, Adom’s mind raced through options, discarding each one faster than the last. Then his thoughts settled on one thing.

The rune

The last-resort failsafe he’d built into the golem’s chest. The kind of paranoid precaution that seemed excessive until the moment you needed it.

It would reduce the construct to atoms. Valiant would die instantly - probably the kindest death available right now. But it had to be triggered. For it to work, the chest cavity had to be breached, exposing the crystal and talisman within, and-

Gale’s fist punched through the metal plating.

Perfect.

The rune blazed to life.

Its intricate patterns catching moonlight like liquid silver. Anyone who understood runic magic knew what came next. It was simple physics, really - runes needed time to propagate their effects across a surface. The average was 1.1 seconds. The best runesmiths could optimize down to 0.8. Adom had managed 0.85 seconds on the golem’s frame. More than enough time for-

Gale laughed. A sound like broken glass. ”You clever bastard.”

Adom’s blood froze. He recognized it.

What happened next redefined everything Adom thought he knew about combat speed. The metal plate containing the rune - his failsafe, his trump card - separated from the golem’s chest in a single perfect sword strike. The plate was already beginning to glow with imminent detonation as it spun away through the thin air.

Gale had known exactly where to cut. When to strike. How to disarm the trap before it could even properly arm itself.

Time slowed to crystalline clarity as Gale’s fingers closed around the exposed control crystal. Raw mana - his mana - poured into the transportation crystal like liquid lightning.

He’s a mage!

He knew exactly what he was doing - disrupting the control matrix, trying to jump back to Adom’s location.

But this was not the end of it.

The rune-inscribed plate still tumbled through the air nearby, its patterns growing brighter with each fraction of a second. Not yet detonated. Not yet dead.

The golem’s hand shot out, snatching the metal in the air. Adom poured every ounce of intent into the construct’s final motion.

Kill him.

A perfect right cross aimed at Gale’s chest, the glowing plate clutched in its fist like the world’s deadliest brass knuckles.

Physics took over.

The explosion turned the night into day. The golem’s arm disappeared in a spray of superheated shrapnel. The blast wave hit like a hammer, finally breaking Gale’s grip as it threw him backward through the thin air. Helios screamed - a sound cut short as the explosion claimed his leg, blood instantly freezing in the high-altitude cold.

Valiant clung to Helios’s waist like a rabid animal, eyes wild and unseeing, mouth twisted in a silent scream that the thin air couldn’t carry. Even with his leg obliterated, frozen blood crystallizing in the stratospheric cold, Helios’s grip on the golem remained unbroken - fingers dug so deep into the metal they left permanent gouges.

From his classroom, Adom felt sudden warmth against his thigh. Gale. the mana injection. The twin crystal - his pocket was glowing. No. No no no-

He bolted for the window, fingers closing around the crystal that now pulsed with dangerous light. Had to get it outside, had to-

The world went white.

The explosion threw him backward, ears ringing with that unique high-pitched whine that follows massive detonations. His vision swam with afterimages, lungs struggling to pull in air through the shock wave that had just emptied the room. Papers swirled in the chaos, desks overturned, glass from the shattered window tinkling as it rained down.

He didn’t even register the pain, adrenaline and battle focus drowning out everything but survival.

Helios roared as flames engulfed his features, flesh charring, one eye reduced to a smoking ruin - but his grip never loosened.

”THERE YOU ARE, MAGE!” Helios snarled, raising his free hand, his face now only burned tissue and exposed bone.”I’ll kill you here!”

Valiant struck, claws raking across Helios’s ruined face. The vampire screamed but maintained his grip even as blood poured down his already regenerating cheeks.

A movement caught his eye through the smoke - voices were already shouting outside about the explosion, professors rushing towards his classroom. Perfect. If he could just teleport to them, even Helios wouldn’t dare-

The damaged golem positioned itself between them, its remaining arm deflecting Helios’s savage strikes. Even with one limb blasted away and its chassis cracked and sparking, the construct fought, buying Adom precious seconds. But Helios was beyond stopping - he smashed through the golem’s guard like a demon possessed.

The vampire lunged for the crystal still clutched in Adom’s trembling hand. [Flowing Perception] and [Boxing Mastery] let Adom weave aside, but Helios’s hand closed over his, crushing down on both his fingers and the crystal. Valiant continued his assault, but Helios was beyond reason now, his mangled face twisted with rage as he squeezed.

A crack appeared in the crystal’s surface.

A crack? On a transportation crystal?

Adom’s heart stopped. He tried to let go, to pull away-

Too late.

The light took all three of them.

The world dissolved into screaming chaos. Their bodies, no longer solid, stretched and twisted through a whirling vortex of light and shadow. Adom felt Helios’s grip, still iron-tight, but it wasn’t flesh holding flesh anymore - just the memory of contact, the idea of connection.

Valiant’s howls echoed strangely, as if coming from everywhere and nowhere. They tumbled through the void, fighting in a state between existence and non-existence, consciousness fragmenting at the edges.

Horror dawned in what remained of Adom’s rational mind. A malfunctioning crystal. This wasn’t teleportation - this was freefall through reality itself. Each second stretched into eternity as his thoughts raced: they could materialize anywhere. Miles above the earth, deep beneath it, in the heart of a volcano, or the bottom of the ocean. The crystal’s magic, destabilized by the crack, could tear a hole between dimensions, dump them in another continent entirely, or scatter their atoms across the cosmos.

Helios seemed to realize it too. His ruined face contorted in what might have been fear - the first time Adom had ever seen that expression on the vampire.

The light grew brighter, reality thinning around them like tissue paper about to tear. Their screams merged into one continuous note as the void reached up with hungry fingers-

And then nothing remained.