"Don't try to get up," Valerius said softly.
"Ephraim..." I wheezed.
I glanced sideways. The old man lay a few meters away.
He looked broken. His lips were trembling, and his gaze was glued to Valerius.
"Your companion is safe," Valerius said, clasping his hands behind his back. "For now. He's an interesting variable. A former head who decided to play savior... it's admirable, albeit pointless. But we aren't here for him."
He stepped closer.
"Look at yourself." He pointed at my reflection in the polished marble.
I stayed silent. Studying the fingers of my left hand, which were trembling slightly.
"You are a unique creature, resembling neither human nor monster," Valerius continued, circling around me. "And your so-called skill is simply too fascinating for me to just ignore," he said, staring intently at my face.
"Not true," I forced out.
"Oh, of course." The Magister laughed quietly. "You believe that your skill is destroying you from the inside. And that is the sweetest lie you've planted in your own mind."
"But how do you know so much about me?"
"Haven't you figured it out yet? You really are a silly one," Valerius said with a smirk. "Your entire path, starting from the Dead Swamps, was made by me. I watched your every step up until this very moment."
"But if that's the case, then why are we here?" I propped myself up, dark spots flickering in my vision. "If I wasn't of interest to you, you would have killed me, or paid no attention at all... which means..."
"Exactly!" Valerius said joyfully.
"The Order's system is aging. The swamp springs are drying up. The obelisks require more energy with each cycle, and our battery-acolytes burn out faster than we can train them. We need a new principle. Specifically, yours."
He leaned in closer.
"Give yourself and Zeno to me. Open access to the skill and the memory segments he locked away in your subconscious. In return, you will get everything: laboratories, resources, the best masters, and even freedom. And the old man..." He nodded at Ephraim. "...will get full amnesty and a quiet farm in the south."
I looked at Ephraim.
He caught my eye and gave a barely noticeable shake of his head.
As if saying: Don't believe him.
"You'll kill him the second I agree," I said.
"Why?" Valerius shrugged. "Loyalty is far more valuable. Think about it, Subject Alpha. You see how imperfect this world is. Magic here is chaos; if you have it, you're lucky, if you don't, you're the scum of society, am I not right? With your help, we will turn chaos into a blueprint. We will build a civilization without 'mages', because everything will be calculated."
"He's lying," Zeno suddenly intervened, his voice crackling like radio static. "He wants to scale his power. If he gets the code, he'll turn all of humanity into the exact same batteries as the acolytes in the Citadel. Only eternal ones."
"I need time," I said, faking weakness and lowering my head. "I... need to think this over. It's too much all at once."
"Reasonable," he nodded with satisfaction. "You have one hour. Here, in the silence. Enjoy."
He turned around and walked toward the doors.
When the heavy panels closed, the hall filled with the low hum of working mechanisms.
"Iron..." Ephraim whispered. "Don't do it."
"I know," I said, slowly shifting my gaze to my right hand.
I focused.
I couldn't feel my fingers—but I felt the tension, which was already a good thing.
Along the walls stood distribution pylons maintaining the static fields. They hummed at a frequency of 440 hertz.
If I could short-circuit my arm to its grid...
"That will kill you," Zeno whispered.
"I don't give a shit, I've already died once," I said mentally, crawling toward the pylon.
My knees scraped across the marble, leaving bloody, dirty streaks on the white surface.
The skill blinked: 4% energy.
I reached the base of the pylon. There was an access panel protected by a magical seal.
I placed my left hand against the panel, feeling for the grooves. The seal responded with a weak discharge, trying to push me away.
"Zeno," I called out. "I need the access code."
The pause stretched into seconds that felt like an eternity.
"...Sector 4-G. Frequency modulation 12.8," Zeno finally said.
I entered the data. The panel clicked softly and slid aside, revealing a web of golden threads and crystalline regulators.
"Ephraim," I said without turning around. "When the lights go out—run to the tank. It has an airlock, it's shielded. Climb inside and keep your head down until everything quiets down."
"What about you?" the old man's voice trembled.
"You're about to find out."
I raised my right hand over the exposed circuits.
The plan was simple.
And suicidal.
Use the energy locked inside my arm to trigger a cascade resonance in the Citadel's purification system. If my calculations were correct, the power surge would generate a wave that would shut down all static fields within a kilometer radius.
I touched the contacts.
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