Elias and Seraphina stood in a darkened alleyway across from the gleaming, fortress-like structure of The Argent Gallery. The gallery was on the ground floor of a massive skyscraper owned entirely by Thorne & Associates.
Seraphina was now in full operational gear: dark kevlar, multiple knives, and a utility belt of magical implements. Elias, by contrast, was wearing a fresh pair of dark jeans and a black hoodie borrowed from the Guild's sparse locker room. He still felt like he should be holding a mop.
"The second fragment is in a hermetically sealed, magically warded vault beneath the main exhibition floor," Seraphina whispered, adjusting a tiny earpiece. "I can disable the physical security. You disable the arcane."
She explained that the security system wasn't just magnetic; it was laced with Paranoia Wards—spells designed to amplify the intruder's anxiety until they either fled or collapsed.
"Since you defeated the Sentinel, your mind is shielded against baseline psychic intrusion," Seraphina said, handing him a thin, flexible glass pane. "This is a Veil-Shunt. When the Wards activate, slap this onto the wall near the source. It redirects the psychic energy, turning the fear into a brief power boost for us."
"So my superpower is still being the guy who gets scared," Elias muttered.
"Your superpower is being the only guy who can take the hit and not break," Seraphina corrected, giving him a piercing look. "We're in the enemy's territory, Anchor. Thorne's security is obsessive."
They made their entry through a ventilation shaft Seraphina expertly melted open with a handheld arcane torch. They dropped into the main gallery space, a cavernous room filled with pedestals and draped artwork. The air was cold, still, and utterly silent.
As they crept past the first row of marble sculptures, a high-frequency whine started—the Paranoia Wards were activating.
Elias immediately felt a wave of icy dread. What if the Shard didn't work? What if this whole thing is a lie? What if I get Maya and my manager fired? The thoughts were sudden, overwhelming, and cripplingly convincing. He slapped the Veil-Shunt onto the nearest wall, and the panel instantly absorbed the panic, emitting a satisfying, low-energy pop. The dread subsided, leaving only his normal, manageable anxiety.
"Good," Seraphina hissed. "Now follow me."
They reached the private vault door. While Seraphina focused entirely on the complex, mundane locking mechanism, Elias scanned the frame. He noticed a faint, glowing script running along the door's seams—an arcane language he now instinctively recognized as a "Stasis Spell," designed to keep the object inside inert.
Elias placed the Aether-Key Shard from the library against the lock. The blue energy of the first fragment neutralized the green light of the Stasis Spell. The lock clicked, and Seraphina finished her work.
They found the second fragment inside, lying in a bed of velvet: a piece of brass clockwork, barely the size of a cufflink, engraved with tiny, moving constellations. It wasn't glass this time; it was metal.
"The Chronos Fragment," Seraphina breathed, quickly locking it into a matching protective case. "This controls the localized time fields of the Veil. With this, we can predict the Echoes."
CLANG! CLANG!
An iron gate dropped down, sealing the vault chamber. An unseen speaker crackled to life, relaying a cold, synthesized voice: "Intrusion detected. Containment protocol executed. Thorne & Associates thanks you for the timely deposit."
They were sealed in.
"That wasn't the Paranoia Ward," Seraphina whispered, drawing her knife. "That was a planned trap. Thorne knew we were coming."
As they frantically searched for an exit, Elias looked up through the glass ceiling of the gallery. He saw the high, empty office floors of the skyscraper. And there, on a massive, outdoor digital advertising screen several blocks away, a brilliant, high-definition image flashed across the city. It was an advertisement for Thorne & Associates' "Global Stability Fund."
Dominating the ad was the serene, controlled, and calculating face of Cassian Thorne.
Elias stared at the image, linking the oppressive power of the trap, the suffocating financial pressure on the Guild, and the face of the man who benefited from the world's decay.
He had the second fragment, but he now had a face to the corporate power that threatened their lives.
"That's him," Elias whispered, pointing at the massive, indifferent image. "The Broker."
Seraphina didn't look up, already prying at the gate. "Worry about the exit, Anchor. The Broker is about to send in his enforcement team."