The rain in London didn't fall so much as it drifted, a fine mist that blurred the lines between the sharp edges of the skyscrapers and the grey-white sky. For the rest of the world, life had resumed its frantic pace. People hurried to meetings, checked their bank balances, and lived in the blissful ignorance of how close their atoms had come to being unmade by a galactic debt collector.
Einstein stood on the edge of the Jacob-Vanguard Plaza's helipad. He wasn't looking at the city below; he was looking through it. His 21st-level Universal Anchor had permanently altered his perception. He could see the ley lines of the earth, the pulsing electromagnetic grid of the city, and—most disturbingly—the thin, shimmering veil of the Great Rift that Elara had warned him about.
His phone, once a simple tool of commerce, was now a dead slab of silicon. The ∞ symbol had burned itself into the screen, no longer a digital display but a physical brand.
"The stars are remarkably quiet tonight," a voice said behind him.
Einstein didn't turn. He knew the resonance of Elara's footsteps. Her violet sight had intensified since her rescue from the obsidian ship. She moved with a ghost-like stillness, her eyes reflecting constellations that hadn't been discovered yet.
"They're afraid, Elara," Einstein said. "I can feel the Syndicate's fear. It's a cold, metallic vibration that stretches all the way to the Orion Belt. I've closed the account, but the bank doesn't like losing its best asset."
"They aren't just afraid, Einstein. They're preparing an audit," Elara said, stepping beside him. "The Orion Syndicate is a hierarchy. You defeated a collection agent. You haven't met the Board of Directors."
The Call to the Void
Suddenly, the mist around them froze. Time didn't stop, but it slowed to a crawl. A single raindrop hung suspended inches from Einstein's nose.
From the center of the helipad, the space began to fold. It looked like a piece of paper being crumpled by an invisible hand. A figure emerged, but it wasn't an Architect. It was a man who looked exactly like Einstein—not a clone, not a reflection, but a version of him that felt older by a thousand years.
The man wore a suit of dark matter, and his eyes were the color of dying stars.
"Who are you?" Einstein asked, his blue aura flaring instinctively.
"I am the Debt that Cannot be Paid," the figure replied. His voice was a chorus of billions. "I am the Einstein who did not save his sister. I am the Einstein who chose the money over the blood. I am the Lord of the Alternate Void."
The dark figure stepped forward, and the concrete beneath his feet turned into obsidian. "The Syndicate did not create the Sun-God Seal, Einstein. They stole it from us. We are the ones who seeded this planet with the Jacob DNA. We are the true owners of the Infinity Balance."
The Sovereign's Choice
Einstein felt a pressure that surpassed the 21st level. This was the 24th Level: The Chronos Master. The dark figure wasn't just stronger; he existed in multiple timelines at once. To strike him was to strike the air itself.
"You have the Infinity Balance," the Dark Einstein sneered. "But do you have the will to use it? To save this world, you must erase the Jacob name from history. You must become a true ghost. No wife, no sister, no legacy. Only the Void."
Einstein looked back at the glass doors of the penthouse. He could see Felicity through the window, sitting at her desk, working on a plan to provide clean energy to the entire African continent. He could see Nick and Simon training the new recruits below.
He thought of the five years of being "unproductive." He thought of the $10 million villa. Every step of his journey had been about building a home, not a throne.
"I've spent my whole life being told what I owe," Einstein said, his blue aura beginning to pull in the white light of the city. "The Council, the Syndicate, and now you. But there's one thing you don't understand about a Jacob."
Einstein reached out and grabbed the Infinity Symbol on his phone. He didn't use it as a bank account. He used it as a Gateway.
"We don't pay debts," Einstein roared. "We Liquidate the Creditors!"
The 25th Level: The Reality Architect
Einstein didn't attack the dark figure with a punch. He attacked the Timeline.
Using the Infinity Balance, Einstein began to "purchase" every moment of his own suffering. He bought the cold nights on the floor. He bought the insults from Norah. He bought the pain of his father's death. He took all that "negative equity" and converted it into raw, creative energy.
"25th Level: The Sovereign of the Eternal Now!"
The dark figure gasped as his obsidian suit began to dissolve into white light. "You... you're destroying the paradox! If you accept the pain, I cannot exist!"
"That's the point," Einstein said.
The helipad exploded in a burst of white-hot truth. The dark figure was pulled into Einstein's aura, his power absorbed not into a weapon, but into Einstein's own soul. The alternate timelines collapsed, merging into a single, unified reality where the Jacob name was no longer a curse, but a shield.
The Final Audit
The mist returned. The raindrops finished their fall, splashing softly against the concrete.
Einstein stood alone on the helipad. Elara was gone—not dead, but moved to the safety of the London Plaza's interior. The Infinity Symbol on his phone was gone. The screen was blank.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a single, ancient coin. It was the first tip he had ever received as a delivery rider—a simple one-pound coin he had kept for luck.
His phone buzzed. It was a standard, local text message.
From: Felicity "Hey, the meeting ended early. I'm starving. Are we still doing that sandwich shop? My treat this time—I think I actually have more in my account than you do right now."
Einstein looked at his bank app.
Current Balance: £1.00
He looked at the pound coin in his hand. Total: £2.00.
He laughed, a sound of pure, unburdened joy. The Sovereign power was still there, humming deep in his marrow, but the "Debt" was truly gone. He had bought his freedom with his own history.
The Walk into the Sun
Einstein walked into the penthouse. Felicity was waiting by the door, her coat on, looking at him with eyes that saw the man, not the myth.
"You look like you've been through a war," she said, reaching up to straighten his collar.
"Just an audit," Einstein said, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "The bank is finally closed, Felicity. From now on, we live on what we earn."
"Good," she said, taking his arm. "Because I heard there's a small advertising firm that needs a new consultant. The pay is terrible, but the boss is very fond of the staff."
"I'll take the job," Einstein said.
As they stepped into the elevator, the lights flickered once—a subtle, golden pulse that signaled to the stars that the King of the North was no longer an asset to be traded. He was a man who had finally found the one thing money couldn't buy.
Peace.