The smoke hadn't cleared.
Sector 9 was no longer a place—it was a scar. A raw, gaping wound on the back of a world already broken. The ruins stretched like dead bones reaching for a sky that refused to weep, while the air reeked of charred metal and something more sickening—burned flesh.
Zane stood amidst the wreckage, eyes locked on the lifeless form beneath a dust-covered shroud.
Reks.
The only person who had reached out to help him when the world let him drown.
His fingers tightened around the edge of the torn cloth. They trembled—not from fear, but from a quiet, burning anger. He didn't know how long he stood there. Minutes? Hours? Time didn't matter anymore. Not since hope stopped showing up.
Ren stood beside him, the boy's small hand clinging to his coat. He didn't cry. He didn't speak. His wide, hollow eyes had long run out of tears. He looked too old for his age—like someone who had seen the end of things more than once.
"We can't stay here," Zane muttered hoarsely. His voice cracked like old iron.
Ren turned to the body one last time, then nodded.
They walked away from the ash and death, only to find more of it waiting. The streets were littered with Ereborn carcasses, melted steel, and clawed concrete. The world was shredded. And no one came to stitch it back together.
But then… machines.
The low, grinding roar of engines cut through the silence. Hovercrafts—three of them—descended into Sector 9's center. Searchlights stabbed through the haze, white beams sweeping across debris like divine judgment arriving too late.
"Alpha squad, secure the north!"
"Bravo, scan for survivors!"
"Charlie, prep thermal incineration!"
Zane pulled Ren behind a slab of steel. From the smoke, armored units emerged with military precision, moving fast, clean, coordinated. Among them, one man stood out—battle-worn orange armor, command insignia on his chest, helmet half-open revealing sharp eyes and a lean, tired face.
As he drew closer, something pulsed in Zane's mind.
Target Detected: Velin Morrow
Talent: Heatfield Manipulation (Rank B)
Status: Stable – Active
Zane's eyes narrowed. Rank B. A rare ability. High-temperature control—perfect for incinerating Ereborn swarms.
But the system didn't trigger automatically.
Not yet.
He needed contact. Direct contact.
Then, he saw it.
Beyond the wreckage, a soft violet pulse glowed beneath a collapsed building. A crack—deep and trembling. The Ereborn core hadn't been fully destroyed.
Three Federation engineers rushed toward it. One shouted, "Retained core energy! If it ruptures, we'll lose half the sector!"
Velin snapped orders. "Form a perimeter! Where's the stabilizer team?"
"Unavailable! Core's too unstable. Anyone within ten meters during heatfield activation… gets vaporized!"
A pause. No one volunteered.
Zane didn't hesitate.
He stepped forward. "Sergeant!"
Velin turned, ready to shoot.
"I can help," Zane said. "I know the back paths. There's a shortcut under the blast zone. You won't reach the core in time without it."
Velin looked him up and down. "Who are you?"
"Survivor. But I've worked clean-up in Sector 7. I've been through cores like this."
That was a lie. But Zane remembered how Reks had explained them. It was enough.
Velin stepped closer and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "If you're lying, you die first."
The system surged.
> [Direct Contact Achieved]
Quest Triggered: [BURNING SHIELD]
Objective: Copy Talent – Heatfield Manipulation (Rank B)
Target: Sgt. Velin Morrow
Conditions:
– Enter core zone
– Withstand active heatfield radius for 3 minutes
– Assist manual stabilization
– Evacuate target alive
Timer: 10:00
Risk: Severe burns, internal trauma
Failure: Talent permanently locked
Reward: Permanent Copy – [Heatfield Manipulation] (Rank B)
Zane felt the weight of it.
But he didn't turn back.
Minutes later, they descended through a half-collapsed stairwell into the earth. The deeper they went, the hotter it became. Glowing ash floated in the air. At the heart of the chamber—an Ereborn core. It pulsed violently, cracked down the center, radiating waves of violet heat.
Velin pried open a control panel. "Heatfield must activate manually. Stabilizers won't hold remotely."
An engineer looked at Zane. "If you stand in the radius, you'll die before the timer finishes."
Zane stepped forward anyway. "Do it."
He braced his hands against two panels flanking the core.
"Now."
Timer Engaged: 180 seconds.
The Heatfield flared to life—a dome of blazing red energy engulfed the chamber. The temperature spiked instantly. Zane's skin flushed red. His breath turned to steam. Sweat evaporated before it could fall. The sound became a deep, vibrating hum—as if the world itself were groaning.
170 seconds… 152… 137…
His muscles screamed. His vision blurred. But he didn't move.
110 seconds… 89… 72…
Velin held the exit door open against automatic failsafes. One engineer collapsed. The other began coughing blood.
Zane's hands blistered. His jaw clenched.
48 seconds… 32… 18…
The core shrieked.
Then—silence.
The pulse dimmed. The light vanished.
Timer: 00:00
> ✅ QUEST COMPLETE
Talent Copied: [Heatfield Manipulation – Rank B]
Synchronization: 100%
Permanent Damage: Prevented (Eclipse Resistance Active)
Zane stumbled backward. The world tilted.
But he was alive.
Velin pulled him out. The boy collapsed in the tunnel, gasping for air, clothes soaked in his own sweat. Skin red, but not broken.
"You're insane," Velin muttered.
Zane gave a faint smile. "But we're still breathing."
---
Hours passed.
A Federation truck rumbled across the border between Sector 9 and Sector 7, leaving the smoldering ruins behind. Inside, Zane sat in the back—arms crossed, eyes on the shifting skyline. Ren slept beside him, small fingers still curled into his sleeve.
Zane opened the system quietly.
> Active Talents:
• Bladestorm – Rank A
• Heatfield Manipulation – Rank B
Eclipse Points: 3
New Feature Unlocked:
– Talent Fusion (Bladestorm + Heatfield → ???)
Execute Now?
He stared at it.
A tempting offer. One that could make him stronger.
But Zane didn't move.
Not yet.
He needed more time. More information. More control.
Outside the window, dawn bled across the sky—a soft orange breaking through the smoke like a reluctant hope. The world hadn't changed.
But he had.
And as the truck crossed the threshold into a new city, Zane closed his eyes.
This wasn't about surviving anymore.
It was the beginning of something far greater.
---