On the stage, the effect was as profound as it was instantaneous.
"Ah!" A unified cry of agony was torn from the lips of both Elysia and Lisanna. One moment, they were basking in the boundless, oceanic wellspring of their newfound B-Rank power; the next, it was gone.
An invisible mountain slammed down upon their souls, a crushing, suffocating pressure that drove the air from their lungs and sent them staggering. The glorious river of Aether they had just begun to command was transformed into a thick, toxic sludge.
To even attempt to draw upon a single wisp of their power was an exercise in pure agony. It felt like swallowing razors—sharp, tearing pains that scraped and sliced at their Aether Cores from the inside, threatening to shatter the very foundation of their strength.
"What on earth is this?" Lisanna gasped, her face pale and her sunny disposition completely erased by a mask of pained, desperate confusion. She clutched at her chest, her breath coming in ragged heaves.
Beside her, Elysia fought to remain upright, her own hand pressed against her heart as her sapphire eyes, sharp and analytical even in her distress, darted across the panicked sea of nobles and heroes.
"This isn't a power… it's technology," she forced out, her mind racing. "But what kind… what kind of device can do this?"
In the epicenter of this universal panic, two figures remained as serene and unperturbed as statues in a hurricane. Orion and Lyra stood placidly, their expressions unchanged, their profound calm a stark, terrifying island in the raging storm of chaos. The oppressive hum that brought a city to its knees might as well have been a gentle summer breeze to them.
Orion was about to speak, to placate his struggling lovers, when another tremor, far more violent and destructive than the first, ripped through the stadium.
BANG!
A deafening, cataclysmic explosion blew a gaping, monstrous hole in the side of the Crucible's reinforced dome. The shriek of tortured plasteel filled the air as shrapnel the size of carriages and shattered masonry rained down like a meteor shower.
A thick, choking cloud of smoke and dust billowed inwards, casting a grim shadow over the arena.
The explosion seized the attention of every soul present, and a thousand pairs of eyes, wide with shock and fury, narrowed on the breach.
A lone figure emerged from the settling debris, each step a declaration of war. He was clad in a unique Aether suit of gleaming cobalt and silver, plates shifting like a living organism. It was not merely armor; it was a cage for a storm. Intense, furious arcs of lightning, thick as a man's arm, crackled and lashed out from its surface. Each spark that danced across his form carried a palpable wave of power that, even in this suppressed environment, sent a shiver of primal dread through the incapacitated C-Rank heroes.
His face, visible through a polarized visor, was a mask of pure, unadulterated hatred, and his burning gaze was locked solely on one man: Orion.
The sight of him caused the pained expressions on Elysia and Lisanna to morph into something else entirely. A freezing, glacial rage descended upon Elysia's features, while a rare, thunderous fury began to smolder in Lisanna's eyes.
"Ryan Sterling," Elysia bit out, her voice a low, venomous growl, each word laced with contempt even as she fought against the suppressive hum.
Lisanna nodded, her own voice sharp as broken glass. "Just what is this foolish madness? If you're pulling some braindead stunt to get attention, give it up already! You're a disgrace!"
Their shouts were lost on the wind, unheard and unheeded. Ryan's entire world had contracted to the man standing calmly at the center of the stage, the source of all his misery.
"ORION!" His voice boomed, amplified by his suit and infused with a potent Aether that somehow defied the oppressive field. "You and your despicable sister's dark reign is coming to an end! Right here, right now, I will free Elysia from your disgusting clutches and destroy every insidious plan you have for this city!"
It was then that Orion and Lyra shared a look, a silent conversation passing between them in the span of a heartbeat.
Orion gave a slight, casual tilt of his head, a gesture so relaxed it bordered on boredom.
"You're going to take us down?" he asked, his voice effortlessly clear, cutting through the din. "You're clearly aware that we're far beyond you. So, I'm guessing this little noise machine of yours isn't the only trick you've brought to the party, is it?"
That casual, utterly dismissive tone caused Ryan's hands to clench into fists so tight his armored knuckles groaned.
Before he could scream his rage, Lyra let out a loud, derisive chuckle that echoed across the stage, a sound of pure mockery. "Alright, man, your pathetic little expression is a bit entertaining, I'll give you that. But my patience is wearing thin. So whatever other dumbasses are hiding in the wings, get your asses out here right now before I get bored."
"Tch." A guttural snarl ripped from Ryan's throat, a surge of pure hatred now directed at Lyra.
But before he could retort, dozens of streaks of light flashed from the clearing smoke, landing with heavy, perfectly synchronized thuds that shook the very foundations of the stage.
A collective gasp swept through the stadium, a sound mirrored in millions of homes and plazas across the Province.
Shouts of disbelief and raw fury erupted once more.
"The Valerians!"
"And… and them… by the First Wave, it's really them!"
"Why in the hell are the heroes of Ironhearth here?! This is Cascadia!"
Indeed, arrayed in a deadly pincer formation that sealed off every escape route, were two formidable forces.
Collyer Valerian and his sneering son Cassian stood at the head of their Perfect and Elite Guard squadrons, their sleek azure armor a stark, almost elegant contrast to the brutalist, charcoal-steel plate worn by the contingent opposite them.
Director Valerius Kane stood beside his second-in-command, Commander Iskra, leading a phalanx of their own elite heroes.
The combined force was an awe-inspiring, terrifying sight. An aura of invincible, disciplined might radiated from them, a suffocating pressure that promised utter annihilation.
This was not a squad; it was an army, a force capable of laying siege to a city and razing it to the ground.
Kane took an imposing step forward, his granite-like presence commanding the attention of all.
"Orion. Lyra," his voice boomed, a low, authoritative rumble that vibrated deep in the chest. "It is undeniable you two hold great potential. But you are undisciplined, chaotic, and extremely reckless. Therefore, by the authority granted to me by the Directorate's Inter-Provincial Stability Pact, Article 7, you are both under arrest for reckless endangerment of the general public and the deliberate destabilization of a lower-ranked Province. I would strongly suggest you surrender now."
Commander Iskra stepped forward beside him, a predatory glint shining from behind her glasses. She ran her tongue slowly over her lips as her gaze raked over Orion's form.
"Must you really put up a fight you are destined to lose?" she purred, her voice a silken, suggestive threat. "Surrender peacefully. Everything can be handled in a calm, efficient, and much more… intimate manner."
The audience erupted. Heroes and nobles, though weakened, clenched their fists, a frustrating, bitter powerlessness fueling their rage.
"Damnit! What the hell gives them the right to just walk onto our land and make demands?"
"Bullshit! That Directorate pact is for mutual defense, not hostile invasions!" Even heroes who hadn't used crass language in decades couldn't help themselves.
From the stadium's speakers, the weakened yet still furious voice of Principal Gold boomed. "Collyer Valerian! What is this farce?! Have you no shame?! You bring foreign powers to our soil to settle a personal grudge?!"
"Shame? Hehe, what use is that against monsters?" Cassian let out a nasty, triumphant cackle, his eyes gleaming with vindictive pleasure.
Elysia coldly snorted in return, her B-Rank aura straining against its cage like a chained beast. "Collyer. Cassian. You two have truly gone too far. You dare to collude with an outside Province against your own home?"
Lisanna huffed, her hands glowing with a faint, struggling light as she glared at them. "Right! You have the gall to call yourselves heroes, yet you're here settling a petty score! All of this, just because you lost a fight for personal revenge!"
Collyer's brows raised, an unnerving, self-righteous calm radiating from him. "Revenge? Such childish words. No matter how you frame it, it is plain to see that these two offer nothing but chaos and violence. You claim this is not heroic? Then pray tell, what is one heroic thing they have done? When they 'bested' us at the Zenith Tech Conclave, that boy may have shielded the crowd, but who was it that initiated the battle with overwhelming force instead of using words?"
Kane nodded sagely, his voice resonating with gravitas. "This is precisely why Aether power must be kept in check by a proper authority. Lest we allow more chaos to erupt in our stable society."
Just as Elysia, Lisanna, and a dozen heroes in the stands were about to roar back in protest, a sound cut through the suffocating tension.
It started as a soft chuckle, but quickly grew into a full-throated, unrestrained laugh. It was a laugh that came straight from Lyra's heart, filled with such genuine, unbridled amusement that it stunned everyone into silence.
Kane, Iskra, Collyer, and Cassian narrowed their eyes.
Everyone else stared in utter confusion.
Elysia and Lisanna turned to Lyra, their brows furrowed, only for them—and the entire world watching—to realize a chilling fact. Throughout this entire, world-shaking confrontation, neither Orion nor Lyra had shown the slightest hint of physical strain. They weren't sweating. They weren't pale. They weren't even breathing heavily. They were perfectly, unnervingly fine.
Kane's voice boomed, a clear command laced with irritation. "Is there something humorous about your impending arrest, girl?"
Lyra's sneer was sharp enough to cut diamond. "It's funny that you idiots think any of this even had a semblance of a chance of working," she spat, her voice dripping with contempt. "All of you just signed your own death warrants."
Ryan couldn't contain his explosive rage. "You're still so damn arrogant!" he roared, lightning flaring around him. "Even under the suppression of the Siren's Lament, is there no end to your foolishness?!"
Chi.
It was not a loud sound. It was soft, sharp, and impossibly clear, like a cosmic tuning fork being struck against the fabric of reality itself. A flash of incandescent blue-white light, brighter than a thousand suns, erupted from a single point high in the dome, filling the entire stadium for a single, blinding nanosecond.
It was followed by a rippling, shattering echo that resounded in the very soul. A shower of electric sparks rained down as every piece of technology within the Crucible—the holographic screens, the lighting systems, the speakers—exploded in a cascade of failure and went dark.
And in that sudden, shocking silence, the oppressive, soul-grinding hum vanished.
A profound quiet descended, broken only by the faint, pathetic crackling of fried circuits.
Kane, Iskra, Cassian, Collyer, and Ryan all stared with wide, utterly disbelieving eyes at Orion. His finger was still extended, a final, fading wisp of Aether energy trailing from its tip, pointed at a seemingly random, unremarkable spot high up in the ruined architecture.
Orion offered Kane a casual, almost pitying smile. "That little toy of yours was a bit interesting," he remarked, his voice echoing in the dead air. "Truly. If I hadn't destroyed it, Lyra and I would've actually needed to try a little."
"You… you—" The blood drained from the faces of Kane, Iskra, Collyer, and Cassian. A chilling, bone-deep dread washed over them.
The Siren's Lament, their trump card, the lynchpin of their entire operation, the pinnacle of C-Rank suppression technology…was destroyed?
Just like that?
Unbeknownst to them, Orion and Lyra truly had been suppressed. Their senses told them that drawing on their full power under the device's frequency would have risked microscopic fractures in their Aether Cores. They would have been limited to a mere 10% of their true strength.
Of course, just 10% would have been more than enough to annihilate this pathetic gathering.
But Orion was a perfectionist. He had no desire for a messy, drawn-out fight. In the ensuing chaos, he didn't doubt for a second that these desperate fools would try to use Elysia or Lisanna as hostages. The mere thought of such a thing made his skin crawl with a cold, murderous fury that promised a fate worse than death.
Moreover, today was a performance. It was the day he would show the world, especially the arrogant A and B-Rank Provinces watching from afar, why they should tread very, very carefully. And the best way to send that message was through a display of absolute, unfathomable, and effortless power.
The moment the chaos began, he had activated [Cognitive Acceleration]. The world had slowed to a crawl, and in that expanded timeframe, he had analyzed the resonant frequency, traced it back to its hidden source, calculated the structural weaknesses of the device, and identified the single, perfect harmonic point to strike to cause a cascading system failure.
What kind of mere C-Rank technology, no matter how clever, could withstand even the slightest application of true B-Rank power, guided by a mind moving faster than light itself?
In the state of absolute horror and confusion that had gripped his enemies, Orion lowered his finger, only to raise it again, this time pointing it directly at Ryan Sterling.
"One," he uttered, the single word a calm, quiet death sentence.
A horrifying wave of power, an aura of absolute finality, howled out from his body. A single, almost delicate stream of Ice Aether, no thicker than his finger, materialized and imposed its will on the space between him and his target.
"NO!" Ryan howled to the heavens, surging his Aether Core to the breaking point. He condensed every ounce of his power, every drop of his rage and obsession, into a single, desperate, final defense.
A massive, crackling lightning sword, a blade that pulsed with the absolute peak of C-Rank power—a raging tempest of voltaic energy—materialized in his hands as he brought it up to defend.
It was utterly, pathetically futile.
The tiny ice stream didn't even slow down. It met the massive lightning sword, and the blade of pure energy didn't just break; it was unmade. Its very structure collapsed on a conceptual level as it was flash-frozen, its energy neutralized and shattered into a billion glittering motes of inert, powerless light.
Without pause, the ice stream savagely smashed straight through Ryan's armored shoulder.
"AHHH!"
A wretched, inhuman wail of pure anguish ripped from his throat as his body was flung backwards like a ragdoll. A spray of crimson blood arced through the air, freezing into tiny, beautiful red crystals before it could even hit the ground.
He smashed heavily into the floor, tumbling over and over, his advanced armor cracking and groaning as a beautiful, lethal lattice of frost instantly spread across his entire body. Orion's invading energy was a glacial plague, extinguishing his Aether Core completely in an instant, suppressing every inch of his power and body.