It had been six days since the leak detonated across Eurastra's black-net. Six days of chaos, revelation, and fallout. Six days of silence from Anton. Six days of riots, blame, and twisting narratives. And now, the Abyss was once again taking the brunt of everything.
Rain hissed as it struck the blazes, embers curling up into the blackened sky like dying prayers. The neon glow of counterfeit Aetherium signs pulsed like arteries in a wounded beast, casting ghost-light onto the broken streets. Somewhere in the distance, a checkpoint exploded, the shockwave rattling makeshift barricades and sending a burst of crimson light into the smog-thick horizon.
And in the middle of it all stood Nate Davis.
His pink katana hung at his side like a forgotten promise. His eyes scanned the crowd, no fear, no anger, just that cold burn of someone who had seen too much and still hadn't looked away. Refugees streamed past him, clutching children, crates, scavenged food supplies. Dax barked orders at runners, trying to split the mobs into controlled routes, but the Abyss wasn't listening anymore. It had outgrown their control.
It was alive now.
And it was using Nate's name to scream.
"They're chanting my name," Nate muttered, watching the latest crowd shuffle past the barricade. His voice was dusted with disbelief.
Dax, crouched beside a busted relay node, tossed him a side glance. "You always wanted to be a hero, right?"
"No," Nate said flatly. "What the fuck gave you that idea? I just didn't want anyone else to bleed for what I couldn't fix."
Dax let out a dry, bitter laugh. "Congratulations. Now they want you to bleed for all of them."
The square beyond their outpost was packed. Makeshift tents, hunger lines, scavenged cookfires, every corner of the district had started pouring refugees into this sector. Word had spread: The Watcher would protect you. The Abyss's ghostknife had turned on the system itself, all with NovaMyst's help.
Nate hadn't said a word. But the world had started saying it for him.
Dax stood beside him now, arms crossed. "If the blockade doesn't break soon, or we get help from the outside... The only option left is going to be war with the other districts."
"Neither's a good plan," Nate said.
"They're not plans," Dax replied. "They're survival. Water's running out. The med supplies? A joke. Something will break eventually."
Nate clenched his fists. The heat in his chest wasn't from the fires. It was guilt. Anger. The ache of being turned into something he wasn't.
Children whispered as he passed. A small girl clutched a soaked flyer in one hand. On it, a stylised image: Nate's silhouette with the words Davis the Redeemer scrawled beneath in crude brush-strokes.
He stared at it, heart in his throat.
Whispers flitted between shivering bodies: "He's the one who leaked it." "He exposed the Purity Front." "He's why they're backing off."
But none of it was true.
None of it came from him.
He turned to Dax, voice low. "They're building a shrine out of my shadow."
Dax nodded grimly. "Then decide quick whether you're gonna burn in it... or light the fucking path."
Nate didn't answer.
He watched the fires rise.
And in the distance, the first aid dropships crossed Eurastra's borders.
Six days since the rootkit's leak had shattered Eurastra's black-net. Six days of riots, lies, and Anton's silence. In the sealed chamber, wards hummed, triple-layered against scrying. Chloe Rawllings stood at the centre console, scanning encrypted messages.
Evan and Susana crafted a broadcast claiming Nate exposed the Purity Front and this new shadow organisation to save both Mages and Voiders alike, honouring Sophia's memory with every word. Susana's fingers trembled over her sister's old CAT, but her voice stayed firm.
Elysia lingered near a far console, studying Convergence rosters, her silence taut as she weighed Nate's myth against her family's demands.
Irina sat at the back, posture stiff, her CAT pinging with a SoviaTechna order to find a way to put SoviaTechna in control of all of this, or risk not seeing her brother again. Her fingers tapped a rhythm, masking her hack into their network. A chime cut through the chamber.
Then the doors unsealed.
A man in black ATRA armour stepped inside. The obsidian trim and crimson collar marked him as command-tier.
"Councilor Rawllings," he said, voice cold. "We need a word."
Chloe didn't flinch. "This isn't an ATRA-secured zone."
"Then let's make it one."
He stepped forward without invitation, eyes scanning the room, measuring them.
"The information leak has ignited five separate zones. You've begun spreading counter-narratives. That wasn't authorized. I'm here to determine if NovaMyst is still under control, or if the rot goes higher than we feared."
Before Chloe could speak, another voice rang out, smooth, rich, and unnervingly casual.
"She's got it under control."
Lillian Vossen stepped out from the shadows of the west corridor, robes flowing, his posture calm and aloof. The new headmaster. The former top student. The demon in plain sight.
The enforcer turned. "You shouldn't be here. This conversation,"
"Concerns my school," Lillian cut in softly.
The ATRA enforcer turned, his eyes sweeping the chamber again before settling on Chloe.
"This spin you're running,this martyr campaign,it's thin ice, Rawllings. You do understand the consequences of falsifying government action?"
Chloe remained still. Controlled. Her eyes met his, unblinking. "I understand the consequences of doing nothing."
"Good," the commander snapped. "Then I assume you'll take full responsibility if this backfires. If more riots spark. If another leak slips."
Chloe's jaw tightened, but she held her tone even. "What we're doing is containing chaos. Not feeding it. The public needs something,someone,to believe in. They don't need the truth. They need order."
"And truth doesn't bring order, Councilor?" Varn asked, a subtle threat threading beneath his words.
"Truth gets weaponised," Chloe replied, her voice low. "And you know that better than anyone in this room."
A pause.
"I think that's quite enough, Commander," said Lillian, cutting into the conversation once more.
The commander stiffened. "Headmaster Vossen. I am well aware, as you have said, that this matter concerns your school; however, I wasn't informed you'd be sitting in on internal council strategy."
"I wasn't," Lillian replied. "I was passing through. I heard raised voices."
Chloe didn't react, not yet. Her expression remained fixed on the ATRA officer.
The commander gave a fake smile. "How rude of me, I didn't even introduce myself, did I? I am Commander Sael Varn, and I will be sending a full review committee. Any further deviations from ATRA policy, and you'll lose provisional command over the academy's communications branch."
"Understood," Chloe said with a thin smile. "We'll prepare tea."
Varn's eyes flicked between her and Lillian, trying to read something he wasn't meant to. Then, with a nod colder than steel, he turned on his heel and strode out.
The doors hissed shut behind him.
Silence bloomed.
The room still hummed with residual tension. Evan and Susana stood off to the side, exchanging hushed thoughts. Irina sat near the back, posture too stiff, fingers tapping her CAT in a rhythm meant to appear idle. Elysia lingered near a far console, arms folded across her chest, eyes flicking between readouts and people,especially Chloe.
Lillian looked to Chloe, brows lifted slightly. "That was risky," he said, finally breaking the tension.
Chloe turned at last, now unmasked. "You shouldn't have come in."
"I was trying to help."
"I didn't ask for it."
"I know." His voice was quieter now, gentler. "But you looked like you could use it."
Chloe laughed once,sharp and bitter. "Don't pretend you're here for me. You're here because the storm's circling the academy, and you're trying to make sure it doesn't break your glass windows."
"That's not fair,"
"No," Chloe cut him off. "What's not fair is pretending you weren't head of faculty when half these corridors were being buried in sealed files. You knew about the Syndicate trails. The export logs. The disappearances. Don't stand here like some rogue hero now."
Lillian didn't answer immediately.
Irina glanced away. Evan, Susana, and Elysia exchanged tense looks.
"I didn't always have the power to stop it," Lillian said finally. "You think I let people die for sport?"
"I think you let people die because it was easier than fighting the system," Chloe replied, voice like frost. "And now you're trying to act like we're on the same side again."
Lillian took a step closer. "Are we not?"
Chloe didn't blink. "You tell me."
He hesitated, studying her for a long moment. The weight of years between them,the silence, the distance, the things never said,pressed into the air like gravity.
"Do you still trust me?" he asked.
She looked at him, finally, truly. "I stopped trusting you the day I realised you'd rather stand behind glass than break it."
That landed.
Lillian's expression didn't falter, but his eyes betrayed the impact. He bowed his head slightly, formal and low.
"If that ever changes... you know where to find me."
And without another word, he left.
Only when the doors sealed behind him did Chloe let out a breath,slow and tight, like she'd been holding it since the moment he entered.
Susana cleared her throat gently. "Should we... go back to the rollout protocols?"
Chloe nodded. "Yes. We don't have the luxury of sentiment. The world's watching."
The Grand Council Chamber's wards thrummed, triple-layered against scrying, their Aetherium glow casting shadows on obsidian walls. Outside, sleet lashed NovaMyst's spires, but the real storm brewed within. Seven days since Anton Melnic's rootkit leak had ripped through Eurastra's black-net, igniting riots and tightening the Syndicate's blockade on the Abyss District. Seven days of ATRA's martial law, checkpoints gunning down runners, and Anton's silence. The chamber was a crucible, its occupants,student council and Eurastra's elite,teetering on a blade's edge.
Chloe Rawllings stood at the student council's podium, her face a mask of steel. Emma Eriksson sat beside her. Elysia Arundel was sat next to Irina Melnic, whose posture was rigid, her CAT pinging with SoviaTechna's threat: Secure our control, or Anton burns.
Across the table, Headmaster Lillian Vossen presided, his robes flowing. Commander Sael Varn, ATRA's obsidian-armoured enforcer, stood flanked by two aides, his crimson collar marking command-tier. Irina noted the Syndicate-forged sheen on his armour,a secret she filed away. Lady Sylovna Melnic, Irina's aunt and Eurastra's trade envoy, sat with icy poise, her gaze sharp. Alongside her sat many other higher-ups from both Eurastra and NovaMyst.
Chloe spoke, voice cutting the hum. "The Abyss is dying. Syndicate blockades have cut water and meds. ATRA's martial law's killing runners,kids,for stealing scraps. We need humanitarian aid, or the district collapses."
Varn's voice was clipped. "ATRA's securing order. The Abyss breeds chaos. Aid risks fuelling rebels."
Emma's eyes flashed. "They're not rebels,they're starving. We propose air-drops: food, water, medkits. Shame ATRA into opening the blockade."
Lady Sylovna's lip curled. "Sentiment doesn't move supplies, Miss Eriksson. ATRA controls the routes. Your 'shame' will cost NovaMyst its funding."
Elysia stood, her voice steady but sharp. "The First Continental Inter-Academy Convergence is our leverage. Eurastra's watching this historic JRI event. Tie aid to it,NovaMyst distributes, proves our strength, and shows we're not broken."
Darius Kade, one of Eurastra's higher-ups, laughed. "A student's tournament won't lift a blockade. The Abyss is a pit, not a player."
Chloe's gaze was unyielding. "It's a symbol. The Convergence unites academies, restores faith. Aid through it saves lives without ATRA's leash."
Irina's CAT pinged again, SoviaTechna's threat burning. She swallowed, her fear for Anton a blade in her chest. If they held him, control was her only play. "SoviaTechna should host the Convergence," she said, voice low but firm.
The chamber froze. Lillian's eyes narrowed. "Explain, Miss Melnic."
Irina straightened, her Melnic training masking panic. "SoviaTechna has Eurastra's largest Aetherium contracts,trade routes, black-net access, contacts in every zone. They can fund Abyss aid, bypass ATRA's checkpoints, and coordinate logistics. They've hosted trade summits,same scale. The Convergence needs their reach to succeed, to save the Abyss."
Varn's lip curled. "You'd hand Eurastra's reins to SoviaTechna? Of course you would; you are a Melnic after all."
"They're neutral," Irina countered, her pulse racing. "ATRA's fractured, the Syndicate's bleeding. SoviaTechna can unify the academies, make the Convergence a beacon. We save lives, restore NovaMyst, and they gain influence,fair trade."
Emma's voice was sharp. "Influence? They'll own the JRI, turn the Abyss into a lab."
"They've got the resources," Irina said, leaning forward. "No one else can move without ATRA's eyes. If we want aid now, they're the only shot."
Chloe's gaze pierced her. "You're betting Eurastra's future, Irina. SoviaTechna's not your ally, Melnic or not."
"It's not about family," Irina said, voice steady. "It's about the Abyss."
Elysia's hands clenched. "This is about Nate. The Abyss is his fight. SoviaTechna will twist his 'Redeemer' myth, make him their tool."
Irina flinched. "His myth saves lives. SoviaTechna can amplify it, get aid through. You want to protect him? This is how."
The chamber erupted. Varn slammed his hand down, snarling. "You're undermining ATRA, Melnic."
Sylovna's eyes bored into her, questioning her loyalty to the Melnics. Kade laughed, feeding the chaos. Lillian's silence was heavy, his gaze on Chloe.
Outside, protests roared through the sleet. Chants pierced the chamber: "Free the Abyss! Break the chains!" Crowds clashed with ATRA guards, signs,Aid Now! Save the Watcher!,lit by flickering neon. A molotov shattered against a barricade, flames licking the night, the Abyss's cry bleeding into NovaMyst.
Chloe raised a hand, silencing the room. "Irina's right about resources. SoviaTechna can break the blockade. But we're not their pawns. NovaMyst proposes joint oversight: we control aid distribution, they fund it. The Convergence stays neutral, a stage for all academies."
Varn's eyes narrowed. "ATRA approves all plans, Rawllings."
"Then approve this," Chloe snapped. "Or explain why the Abyss starves."
Sylovna's voice was ice. "A Rawllings pushing SoviaTechna risks our name, Irina."
Irina met her gaze, heart pounding. "It risks lives if we don't."
Lillian spoke, voice calm but heavy. "The Abyss suffers. The Convergence proves our unity. Joint oversight is fair. Vote."
The room tensed. Emma nodded, her voice soft. "For the Abyss."
Elysia agreed, eyes on her rosters. Varn raised a hand, his armour glinting. Kade shrugged, amused. Sylovna's nod was curt, her eyes promising retribution.
Chloe's voice was steel. "SoviaTechna hosts the Convergence, funds Abyss aid. NovaMyst controls distribution. Agreed?"
Hands rose, reluctant but resolute. Irina exhaled, her CAT silent, her gamble set,SoviaTechna's power might save Anton, but at what cost?
The doors unsealed with a hiss.
Anton Melnic stumbled in, his uniform torn, some sort of glow at his temple, eyes wild from seven days of something. The chamber froze. Irina's breath caught,relief and panic colliding. He was alive, he was free. And I handed our enemies the keys thinking he wasn't.
"Anton," she whispered, half-rising, her CAT pinging with SoviaTechna's threat.
Elysia noticed the shift in Irina's posture and face, but before she could do anything, Anton spoke.
"The Abyss should enter the Convergence."
The chamber exploded. Varn laughed, sharp. "A warzone in the JRI? Absurd!"
Kade's eyes glinted. "The Abyss? They're not an academy,they're a graveyard."
Anton's chip flickered, eyes burning. "They're people. Voiders, Blanks, Mages,same as us."
Chloe's mask cracked. "You've been dark seven days, Melnic. Now this?"
"I've just had a lot on my mind," Anton said, glancing at Irina, softening. "Regardless, the Abyss deserves a voice. You have made Nate the fighter for the Abyss, correct? Well, let them now be the ones fighting also. If you want to show that we have changed, that we are different, that people matter, then what better way than to allow those whom you have been crushing under your foot to have a say in it?"
Irina's heart sank. She'd empowered SoviaTechna, thinking they held him, but he was free,and her choice might've doomed him.
"Anton, I thought they had you," He shook his head, a faint smile. "You did what you had to, Irina. I know."
Elysia stepped forward, resolute. "If the Abyss competes, Nate leads them. I'll train them within the Arundel estate. It's a risk, but it's right."
Emma's gaze flicked up, cold and unyielding. "Reports confirm the Abyss has makeshift schools: crude, underfunded, but functional. They teach Voiders and Blanks to harness Aetherium, survival as curriculum. We could frame them as an academy, eligible for the Convergence. Eurastra's public sees us as fractured,half hero, half villain, despite our truth-spinning. Let the Abyss compete. Win or lose, they're an underdog. The narrative shifts: Eurastra champions the downtrodden, not just itself. We seize control of the story."
Varn's voice was ice. "This changes nothing. ATRA's review comes tomorrow."
Lillian stood, presence heavy. "The Convergence is for everyone. The Abyss competes, SoviaTechna hosts, NovaMyst controls aid."
The chamber recoiled. Varn's voice was a whip. "You overstep, Vossen. You're a headmaster, elevated only because your predecessor vanished in shadows. This isn't your council."
Captain Thalor, Varn's aide, leaned forward, her tone venomous. "A placeholder has no say in Eurastra's fate. Why are you even here?"
Lieutenant Holt nodded, his voice low but cutting. "The Vossen name doesn't buy authority. You're a figurehead, nothing more."
Lira Veyne's stylus tapped, her sneer sharp. "A headmaster meddling in policy? Your predecessor knew his place before he disappeared."
Kade chuckled, eyes glinting. "Careful, Vossen. You're not the Rawllings girl, born to rule."
Lillian's demeanour shifted, the calm scholar replaced by something else. His eyes burned with a fire not even Chloe had seen, his voice low, laced with menace. "You mistake me, Commander, for a mere headmaster. I am Lillian Vossen, of the Vossen royal family, second only to the Rawllings in this broken world. If you will not heed me as headmaster, you will kneel to me as a Vossen."
He leaned forward, his gaze a blade slicing through each opponent. "You, Varn, wear THAT armour, a leash you think I don't see. Thalor, your rank was bought with bribes, not blood. Holt, your loyalty shifts with the highest bidder. And you, Veyne, cling to power through favours in dark corridors. Question my place? Most of you clawed your way here through corruption and betrayal, yet you dare lecture me on legitimacy?"
Veyne laughed, a brittle, nervous sound. "Bold words, Vossen, but your family's name doesn't scare us. You're still just a schoolmaster playing at power."
Kade leaned back, his smirk a veiled threat. "Push too hard, Vossen. The Syndicate's reach is longer than your lineage."
Lillian's eyes narrowed, his voice a surgical cut. "Do it, Kade. Try it. But remember, my family's reach doesn't end at these walls. Yours barely escapes your district's gutters." He turned to Veyne, his tone icy. "And you, Lira, laugh again. But when your bribes dry up, what will hold your seat? Not courage."
The chamber froze. Varn's face paled, Thalor's jaw tightened. Holt's hand twitched toward his CAT, but Varn's sharp gesture stopped him. Veyne's stylus snapped in her grip, her eyes darting away. Kade's smirk faded, his wires dimming. Sylovna's gaze hardened, but she remained silent, a Melnic calculating her next move.
Lillian clapped his hands once, his calm scholar's mask returning. "It seems it has been decided."
Outside, the chants grew louder,"Free the Abyss!",flames lighting the sleet. Irina gripped her CAT, SoviaTechna's threat burning. Anton was back, but her gamble had shifted Eurastra's balance. The Convergence loomed, a stage for heroes and traitors, and the Abyss's cry would not be silenced.
Anton Melnic's team was under siege,not a metaphor, but a slaughterhouse. The air choked with acrid smoke, the stench of stale synth-coffee and blood-soaked asphalt. Neon signs flickered erratically, their counterfeit glow painting the alley in sickly pulses of crimson and violet, like a heart failing under a blade. The Abyss's riots roared in the distance,screams of refugees, the crack of ATRA rifles, the hiss of Syndicate drones slicing through sleet. Anton's chip burned at his temple, overclocked to breaking, each pulse a needle in his skull, fracturing thought, time, reality.
Fenn's console was slag, melted by a Purity Front incendiary grenade, its sparks hissing like dying stars. Lyris knelt beside Whisper, her hands slick with blood from a gash across her shoulder, trying to stabilise their teammate's fried CAT implant,an Aetherium pulse mine had cooked it, leaving Whisper convulsing, eyes rolled white. Syndicate mercs closed in from the east, their wire-laced visors glinting. ATRA shock troops held the west, their obsidian armour etched with AetherScript sigils. Unaffiliated mercs,vultures drawn by chaos,flanked the north, their laughter sharp as gunfire.
They were surrounded, a noose of steel and Aetherium tightening around them.
Anton's chip screamed, overclocked to siphon Psychē waves, to predict the next strike. His vision flickered,edges blurring, colours bleeding like a busted holo-screen. Irina's face flashed in his mind, thinking of what SoviaTechna would do to Irina should he fall; Irina would burn for his actions and the rootkit leak,his leak,had lit this fire.
"Anton!" Lyris's voice cut through, hoarse with pain. "We can't hold,they're too many!"
His chest heaved, the chip's heat searing his brain, thoughts splintering. The Syndicate wanted him back, ATRA wanted his silence, the Purity Front his soul. The mercs? Just his corpse for credits. He saw a child's flyer in the rubble,Nate's silhouette, Davis the Redeemer scrawled in crude ink. The Abyss's hope, built on lies. His lies.
"Split up," Anton rasped, voice raw but certain, a gambit to save his team. "Scatter protocols. I'll pull the fire. Go ghost."
"Anton," Lyris tried, her bloodied hand reaching, but he was already moving.
He dove into the alley, the chip's feedback loop a white-hot brand in his skull. Sleet stung his face, mixing with sweat, blood, his vision warping as the overclock pushed his senses past human. Syndicate drones buzzed overhead, their thermal scans locking on his chip's signature. ATRA boots pounded closer, their comms crackling with orders: Take Melnic alive. A Purity Front bullet grazed his arm, tearing fabric, skin, resolve. The Abyss's riots roared louder,molotovs shattering, refugees screaming Nate's name, a myth Anton's leak had birthed and NovaMyst had weaponised.
For two days, he ran. Hid. Fought. The Abyss's chaos was his shroud,riots masking his steps, tracking Psychē waves became his only guide. But the chip was a traitor now, its overclocked circuits fraying his mind. Reality flickered, and the hallucinations began.
Anton collapsed in a forgotten tunnel beneath New Greenwich, his muscles twitching from chip seizures. His vision swam,neon afterimages from the Abyss's riots bleeding into the tunnel's darkness, where rusted pipes dripped black ichor and counterfeit Aetherium conduits flickered like dying stars. The air was thick, sour with mould and the distant tang of blood, the riots' echoes,screams, molotovs, Nate's name,bouncing off the walls like a requiem. His muscles twitched, seized by the chip's feedback, his breath a ragged gasp as he clawed at the damp stone, trying to anchor himself.
Irina's face flickered in his mind, her rigid posture in the council chamber, her voice pushing SoviaTechna to host the Convergence to save him. Secure our control, or you burn. The shadow organisation's threat, relayed through her CAT, was a blade in his chest. His leak had set Eurastra ablaze,riots in the Abyss, Nate's "Redeemer" myth on every holo-screen, crafted by NovaMyst's lies. Evan and Susana's broadcast, claiming Nate exposed the Purity Front, was a fiction Anton's rootkit had enabled. He'd wanted truth, not this.
A shadow moved in the tunnel's gloom, too deliberate, too calm. A boy stepped into the flickering light, his silhouette achingly familiar,lean frame, ragged coat, eyes too old for his face,and it kept whispering: You broke the system. Now it breaks you.
"Aleksien?" asked Anton weakly.
"You broke the system," Aleksien's voice rasped, spectral and sharp, crouching beside Anton like an Aether wraith. His eyes glinted with accusation, Aetherium light catching the scar Anton remembered,jagged, from a Syndicate blade. "Now it's breaking you."
"I leaked the truth," Anton gasped, his voice raw, the chip's seizures clawing at his nerves.
Aleksien tilted his head. "Whose truth? The Abyss's? Irina's? Or just yours, to burn it all down?"
"I gave people a choice," Anton said, his breath hitching, the tunnel's walls warping in his vision.
"Did you?" Aleksien's voice was a blade, menace cutting deep. "Or did you just want to torch the system so no one could cage you again? So that you wouldn't have to feel that pain again? Face it, you lit the match out of a tantrum, out of the fact Irina decided to reject helping you ONE time, and now the Abyss burns, and Irina will burn. For you."
Anton's chest tightened, the chip's heat a furnace in his skull.
"I didn't do it for that."
Aleksien's ghost leaned closer, his scar glowing faintly, a reminder of Anton's failure.
"They're making a myth out of your silence. Nate, the boy with the sword, their 'Redeemer.' Not you, the ghost who gave them the match. NovaMyst stole your story, turned it into their lie. And Irina's paying the price, handing SoviaTechna the reins to save you."
"I didn't want this," Anton growled, his voice breaking, hands trembling against the stone.
"No," Aleksien said, his eyes cold, eternal. "But the story's not yours anymore. Unless you take it back."
The tunnel snapped back, Aleksien's form dissolving into shadows, leaving only the drip of pipes and the dull glow of Anton's dying CAT. His breath came in ragged gasps, the chip's seizures ebbing but leaving cracks in his mind. That voice hadn't been Aleksien's. It had been his own, wearing the boy's face.
The hallucination had torn open old wounds like Aleksien's death, but it had also left something behind.
Resolve.
Anton exhaled slowly. He was patched now,barely. His chip was running on fumes. No team. No resets. No miracles.
But the chamber had listened. The vote had passed. The Abyss would enter the Convergence.
He should've felt triumphant. Vindicated.
Instead, all he felt was cold.
He'd seen what came after movements like this. Not just uprisings, but what came after,when heroes became symbols and symbols became shields to hide new regimes. The game hadn't changed, only the pieces.
He reached into his coat, pulled out his cracked CAT, and watched the ghost of a holo-message fade from its screen: an old image of Nate standing atop a half-destroyed barricade, sword drawn, surrounded by civilians looking up like he was a god.
Anton didn't trust gods. He didn't trust myths. But he could weaponise them.
He stood, the sleet biting into his collar, and looked to the tower's access stairwell. Somewhere below, the stage was already being built.
Let them call it hope.
He'd make sure it stayed fire.
Anton stepped away from the rooftop edge, sleet rattling against the steel lip. The wind carried the distant roar of the Abyss,chants, clashes, the static hiss of distant loudspeakers,but up here it felt muted, a storm behind glass. He took the stairwell down three flights, each step sending a dull ache through his legs. The chip at his temple thrummed faintly, no longer screaming, just a constant reminder that it was there, humming like a loaded gun he couldn't put down.
The academy's south wing was quiet when he slipped through the service entrance. Students were still locked down in their dorm clusters. No gawkers, no questions,just the hum of the warded halls. His boots tracked a trail of wet across the dark tiles as he keyed into his quarters.
The door slid open.
Irina was inside.
Her hair was damp, strands clinging to her face.
"I thought you were dead."
Irina's voice cut through the rain, sharp but low.
"I was," he said. "More or less."
"You could've told me."
"You could've waited."
Her eyes narrowed. "Waited while SoviaTechna dangled your life over my head? While they sent me threats in the middle of council sessions? You think I wanted to put the Convergence in their hands?"
"You didn't have to," Anton said, finally turning toward her. His voice wasn't sharp,it was tired. "You chose to."
"I chose to save you."
"Or to feel like you could."
Irina stepped closer, her voice harder now. "I gave them everything they wanted because I thought it was the only way to keep you breathing. And then you show up in the council chamber like some ghost from a bad story, demanding the Abyss enter the Convergence like none of that mattered."
"It matters," Anton said. "It matters more than you think. SoviaTechna would've found another way in,with or without you. At least this way, you kept control of the aid."
Her laugh was humourless. "Control? You think they're going to let NovaMyst control anything? They'll smile for the cameras, play nice for the Convergence, and then they'll choke the Abyss until it begs for their help. They don't care about Nate, or the riots, or the truth you think you leaked."
Anton looked at her, surprise flashing in his eyes before speaking. "So you know, eh?"
"They told me. You were reckless and thus they were able to track you, and if they were able to then that means the Syndicate most likely can as well."
"They already know," he said flatly.
"What??" she said, letting her voice rise more than was usual.
"How do you think I ended up like this?"
"And you are okay with being a target yet again?"
"I don't think I have ever stopped being one. As much as we told ourselves otherwise. It was always going to end the same way."
Irina studied him for a long moment. "You've changed."
"No," Anton said. "I just stopped pretending I was the hero in this story."
Irina's eyes flicked toward Anton's. "Why would you do this?" she asked, almost as if pleading.
"I don't know. When you refused to help me, when we had that argument or whatever you want to call it, I just felt different and I just acted..." He sat on the bed, shoulders sagged.
"If I had told you why I couldn't, then you would have done something stupid to try to help me, although you ended up being stupid anyway."
Anton let out a laugh and slightly relaxed for the first time in a long while.
"I'm sorry I didn't realise they had got to you sooner."
"They'll tear him apart when the myth doesn't hold up," Irina said, in a tone that told him that now it really wasn't the time for this conversation.
"That is why I am here, to make sure it does."
She shook her head slowly. "That's not a plan. That's gambling with lives."
Anton gave her a faint, almost imperceptible smile. "It's the only game I've ever been good at."
The dorm went quiet except for the rain. Finally, Irina stepped back toward the door.
"If you're going to play ghost, Anton... make sure you don't disappear again."
The wall console chimed, breaking the moment. Chloe's voice came over the line: "Council chamber. Now."
Anton didn't move at first. The rain still pattered against the window, a steady drum over the low hum of the wards.
He pushed himself up, every joint protesting. "You coming?"
She didn't answer right away. Then, a short nod. "I wouldn't miss it."
The walk to the chamber was short but heavy. No words. Just the sound of their boots on polished stone and the distant murmur of voices already gathered inside. The tension in the air was different from the Abyss,quieter, sharper, like a blade waiting for a hand.
When the doors parted, the heat of the room hit them. Holo-maps flickered across the table, Abyss districts marked in angry red. Chloe stood at the head, Elysia and Emma flanking her, SoviaTechna's liaison leaning back with folded arms, eyes calculating, while at the far end, draped in the muted greens and golds of his house, sat Lance Read.
He was smiling. That alone put Anton on edge.
"Good," Chloe said, looking between Anton and Irina. "You're here. We've got a problem."
She didn't waste time.
"The blockade is holding, but barely. Supplies are dwindling, morale is collapsing, and we are losing whatever order remains. Our intelligence confirms Nate Davis is still alive, still fighting,but if we leave him there, he and what remains of the Abyss leadership will be crushed before the Convergence even begins."
Evan leaned forward, eyes hard. "Then we go get him. We bring him and whoever's left back here. Let them train, regroup. If the Abyss is going to stand a chance in the Convergence, it starts with getting them out."
Susana's voice followed, low but edged. "And if you don't, you lose more than a fighter. You lose the symbol you've been propping up to keep the Abyss from burning this city down."
Irina's gaze slid toward Chloe. "We can use the Arundel estate as training grounds, as per Elysia's suggestion. It is isolated, secure, warded against Syndicate interference. But pulling them out means breaking the blockade,which we cannot do without outside cooperation."
That was the cue.
The chamber doors opened without ceremony, and in stepped Margaret Read, tall, silver-haired, the crest of the Read family etched into the obsidian clasp at her shoulder. Her arrival shifted the air; even Chloe's expression sharpened into something more guarded.
"My family," Margaret began smoothly, "has ships. Routes. The kind of influence that makes blockades... porous. If you wish to extract this Davis boy and his people, we can make it happen."
She let the words breathe, the pause heavy as a drawn blade.
"Our support is not without... reciprocity. If House Read is to commit our resources,and we will be needed to secure safe passage through ATRA-controlled corridors,then certain alliances must be formalised. For stability. For the Academy. For Eurastra."
Anton didn't need a Psychē scanner to feel the trap snapping shut.
Elysia's chin lifted slightly. "And what, precisely, do you mean by 'formalised'?"
Margaret smiled, not unkindly, but with the ease of someone who'd been playing this game longer than anyone else at the table had been alive.
"Lance is an honourable match. And once united, our houses can shield NovaMyst's interests far beyond this Convergence."
Across the table, SoviaTechna's liaison gave a slow, knowing smirk. "Well. That would make the Convergence... interesting."
Anton's eyes flicked toward Lance. The younger Read was still smiling at Elysia,but it wasn't the smile of a man closing a political deal. It was the smile of someone who thought he'd already won. Yet there was something else there that Anton couldn't quite figure out.
"That," Elysia said slowly, "is not a small ask."
"It is the smallest ask I can make for what you want," Margaret replied, her tone still gentle. "Nate and his Abyss cohort brought out alive, unmolested, with enough resources to make them competitive in the Convergence? Only the Reads can open that path. And we will,if our houses are joined."
Susana scoffed. "You're holding a rescue operation hostage for a marriage contract?"
"Call it what you like," Margaret said mildly. "But your enemies play the same game. I simply admit the rules."
The liaison chuckled. "And here I thought SoviaTechna were the ruthless ones."
Lance finally spoke, his voice smoother than his mother's but no less precise.
"This isn't a demand, Elysia. It's an offer. One that ensures your vision doesn't die in the slums of the Abyss before it begins. Plus as I have previously discussed this with you, as an Arundel you should know your duties"
Elysia's eyes didn't leave his, but Anton could see the tension in her jaw. The move was brilliant in its cruelty, refuse, and she'd be the one who "let" Nate and the Abyss burn. Accept, and she'd hand the Reads a permanent seat at her table.
Chloe leaned forward, cutting in before the silence could calcify.
"If this is truly about the Abyss, we should keep the focus there. Personal alliances can be... discussed separately."
Margaret's gaze slid to Chloe, still smiling, but her tone cooled.
"Then perhaps we discuss nothing at all."
The weight of the pause that followed was enough to still even the SoviaTechna liaison's smirk.
Elysia's fingers curled against the table. She glanced to Chloe, to Irina, even to Anton,but no one spoke. The silence told her what she already knew: without the Reads, this plan died here.
Elysia exhaled slowly. "If I agree, it will be because it is necessary, and only on one condition."
Margaret arched a brow. "Name it."
"The moment Nate and the Abyss fighters set foot out of the Abyss, they answer to me. Not to you. Not to your son. Me."
Margaret's smile widened just enough to show teeth. "Agreed."
Chloe struck the table lightly with her palm. "Then it's settled. The Reads open the blockade, we extract Nate and his people, and training begins at the Arundel estate. The Convergence just became a very different game."
Evan sat back, jaw tight. Susana's gaze was unreadable. And Elysia,for all her poise,could already feel the shackles tightening.
The deal was struck, but no one in the chamber looked satisfied.
Margaret Read rose, smoothing her cloak as though nothing dangerous had been decided, and Lance's smile didn't falter for a second.
"I'll have our ships prepped within the hour," Margaret said. "Your window will be narrow. ATRA won't take kindly to us testing their leash. You'll want to be quick, and quiet."
She glanced at Chloe. "I trust you'll manage the rest."
Without waiting for a reply, she and Lance left, the doors hissing shut behind them. The SoviaTechna liaison trailed after, whistling low under his breath. The sound was a taunt: You think this was your victory?
Chloe turned to the remaining council members. "We move tonight. Evan, you and Susana coordinate with the Read ships for extraction. I want secure corridors mapped and backup extraction points in case ATRA or anyone else jumps the routes."
Evan nodded sharply. "I'll pull contacts in the dockyards. We'll need decoy traffic to mask the real transports."
Susana's voice was quieter but colder. "If we're doing this, we're doing it clean. No crossfire, no martyrs. The myth around Nate is fragile enough already."
Elysia's gaze was fixed on the holo-map, tracing the perimeter of the Abyss with a fingertip. "When we get them out, I'll have Arundel security seal the estate. Training begins immediately: combat drills, Aetherium discipline, Convergence rules. No one sees them until I say so."
Irina folded her arms. "And if Nate refuses to leave?"
Elysia didn't blink. "Then I'll make him."
Anton, silent until now, finally spoke. "You're not going to just pull fighters. You're going to pull witnesses, people who've seen the riots, who know the truth about how ATRA really is treating them. That's leverage. Not to mention we don't exactly know anything about this competition or how it will work. Handle it carefully."
Chloe studied him for a moment, then nodded. "You're on the team, Melnic. We'll need someone who can read the board mid-play."
The rest of the briefing was fast, surgical. Insertion points marked in blue, extraction in green. Callsigns assigned. Contingencies layered like blades in a gambler's sleeve.
Finally, Chloe stepped back from the holo-map. "Get your gear. You all leave in three hours."
The vehicles crouched in the hangar like steel predators, matte-black bodies masked with commercial fleet sigils. Read and Arundel security crews moved in tight formation, loading crates of medkits, rations, and CAT calibrators into the cargo bays.
Elysia stood in full tactical rig, issuing clipped orders. "No delays, no contact with civilians, no lingering. We ghost in, ghost out."
Evan and Susana oversaw the comms, their encryption net already piggybacking on civilian traffic to hide the convoy's route.
Irina joined Anton near the rear vehicle, her eyes scanning the preparations. "You're actually going through with this?"
He didn't look at her. "You know I don't sit well on the sidelines."
Across the bay, Lance lingered in quiet conversation with one of his house guards. When Elysia's gaze brushed over him, he smiled, slow, deliberate.
The hangar sirens gave two short bursts. It was time.
Elysia passed Anton on her way to the lead vehicle. "We keep Nate alive, we keep the Abyss's story alive. That's the job."
Anton's mouth quirked, humourless. "Let's hope your myth doesn't bleed out on the pavement."
From the upper gantry, Chloe watched the convoy roll out into the sleet, each set of headlights swallowed by the grey beyond NovaMyst's wards.
Three hours from now, they'd be in the Abyss.
By dawn, they'd either have Nate Davis, or another funeral to feed the flames.