(Two Years Ago).
The executive chamber of the Nexus Citadel felt colder than usual that evening. The endless hum of machines buried beneath the stone floor reverberated like a distant heartbeat, as if the dying world itself was groaning. Magnus stood by the wide crystal windows, staring out at the broken skies, the crimson sun bleeding faint light through the cracks of a fading atmosphere.
Behind him, footsteps echoed steadily, proud and heavy. Neil, his elder brother, the Grandmaster of Nexus, walked in with the usual authority of a man who believed the future bent to his will.
"You've seen the latest projections," Neil said, his voice clipped, almost impatient. "Nexus won't last another three years. The core is collapsing. No technology, no matter how brilliant, can stop it."
