The air inside the primary pump station didn't just smell like ozone and stagnant water; it tasted like a copper coin dissolved in acid. The violet mist was so thick it seemed to possess a physical weight, pressing against my skin and buzzing at the edges of my vision. Every time I blinked, I saw ghost-lines of corrupted code—jagged, nonsensical runes that flickered in and out of existence. This wasn't a standard magical leak. This was a system-wide crash, a kernel panic translated into the architecture of the world.
"Keep the Star-Iron rods in a tight radius!" I shouted, my voice echoing hollowly off the damp, violet-slicked stone. "If the circle breaks, the corruption will find a path through your boots. Silas, stay behind Mira. If you see the indigo light start to flicker, you double the grounding tension. Don't think about the magic. Think about the resistance."
