The elevator shot upward, its transparent walls revealing slivers of the city below—shattered neon, distant sirens, the faint pulse of a world that had no idea what was brewing above it. But as we rose higher, the skyline disappeared into thick, swirling clouds. They swallowed everything: the colors, the lights, even the illusion of safety.
Elara and I stood side by side. Sylus stood behind us, hands clasped loosely behind his back, like a man taking a casual ride rather than escorting two injured operatives to an unknown threat.
Elara kept sneaking glances at me.
I kept pretending nothing hurt.
Every breath scraped fire across my ribs. The glass embedded beneath my skin shifted when the elevator jolted. Blood was still drying on my cheek.
She didn't know what waited for us on that rooftop.
Not really.
And neither did I.
The game's script had held—mostly—but this world was not a perfect recreation. I didn't know if the boss would scale to three fighters. Or if one of us would be taken out. Or if the fight would simply become easier.
Or if the world would decide one of us wasn't supposed to survive.
The elevator slowed.
Mist slid past the glass like parting veils. Through the thinning haze, the rooftop came into view.
A graveyard of a lab.
Jagged metal beams jutted from the ground like broken ribs. Overgrown weeds clung to rusted machinery. Transport containers lay overturned, shattered glass glittering among the debris. Collection vessels—some cracked, some half-melted—sat abandoned in the dirt.
Elara stepped forward. The crunch of debris beneath her high heels echoed across the empty rooftop.
"It looks like… a lab."
I followed close behind, scanning the environment, muscles ready to lock or run.
"It was," Sylus said, stepping over a collapsed piece of scaffolding. His voice was even, almost bored. "A long time ago."
Elara glanced at him. "Who abandoned it?"
"EVER," he replied without missing a step.
Elara froze. "EVER?"
She and I exchanged a tight glance.
We knew that name too well.
EVER wasn't a company—it was a leviathan. A global conglomerate with fingers in every sector: tech, politics, military, biotech, energy. In Linkon City, their influence was so deep, most people breathed it without noticing.
Elara swallowed. "I heard that before the Chronorift Catastrophe, this was one of the most advanced tech hubs in the world. It would make sense that EVER had a research base here."
Sylus let out a dry laugh.
"You really are a naive Linkon citizen."
Her brows pulled together. "What does that mean?"
He finally looked at her—just a glance, but sharp enough to cut.
"Many places were affected by the catastrophe. Yet only the N109 Zone became a wasteland. Ever wonder why?"
She didn't answer.
Sylus came to a stop. "We're here."
A strange vibration pulsed through the air—deep, rhythmic, almost like a heartbeat echoing through metal. Elara and I followed Sylus's gaze upward.
And the world opened.
Above us stretched the Deepspace Tunnel, a churning ribbon of swirling void. Dense clouds twisted into an abyss, warping the sky into something alien. Flashes of light ripped through the darkness—brief streaks of gold and white, like shooting stars trapped in a storm.
Elara's breath trembled.
"The Deepspace Tunnel… I've never seen it this close."
Neither had I.
It was beautiful.
And terrifying.
A flare of energy streaked overhead. I stepped forward without realizing, drawn in by the twisting patterns. The surface of the vortex pulsed with a glow that felt almost alive.
"A Flux Nexus," Elara whispered. "I saw one in a no-hunt zone once."
Sylus watched her with pointed interest. "Then you know what's inside."
His tone darkened, settling like a shadow. "Once you take it out, there's no turning back."
Elara hesitated.
Just for a heartbeat.
Then her jaw set.
She reached out and placed her palm against the swirling nexus.
The moment her gloved fingers touched it, the rooftop flashed with brilliant golden light. Energy surged through her arm, rippling outward in a circle of heat.
A small sphere of shimmering light—floating, humming, alive—rose from the Nexus.
"The Aether Core," Elara breathed.
And then—
The rooftop trembled.
A shockwave rolled across the metal beams, rattling loose debris. The air thickened, heavy with a rising storm. Wind howled across the rooftop as something massive stirred inside the Tunnel.
A shadow moved.
Then grew.
Wings—
enormous, jagged wings—stretched outward in silhouette, blotting out the last traces of sky.
A sound rumbled through the storm.
Low.
Violent.
The kind of sound that shakes bone and thought and breath.
This was it.
My first boss fight.
And this time—
the script wasn't guaranteed.
The Arbiterwing's roar split the sky.
A vortex of protofield energy swirled around its massive body—half stone, half corrupted light—its jagged wings unfurling in uneven, broken movements. Its many stone feathers shuddered with a grinding, grating sound like bone dragged across metal.
I swallowed hard.
Elara straightened, slipping seamlessly into her melee stance. "Ready?"
Sylus gave her a small nod, that infuriating smirk resurfacing despite everything.
"Try to keep up."
He meant it for her.
But his eyes flicked to me.
I didn't bother replying.
The protofield surged.
The Arbiterwing screamed—and the sky answered.
Feathers the size of spears ripped free from its wings and rained down in brutal arcs, embedding into the rooftop with deep, echoing cracks.
"MOVE!" I barked—
—but Elara and Sylus were already in motion.
I dove and rolled, a feather slamming into the ground where my head had been a heartbeat before. The impact sent a shockwave through the debris, rattling my already screaming ribs. Dust exploded upward. My lungs burned.
Sylus sliced through a falling feather with a single swipe of his mist-laced hand—stone shattered in a violent burst.
"Elara!" I called, pointing. "Those aren't just attacks!"
She saw it too—the faint glow pulsing from each embedded feather.
"Tethers!" she shouted back. "They're anchoring it to the protofield!"
A beat—
and Sylus was already ahead.
"We take them out first."
He split off left. Elara veered right.
I sprinted forward, ignoring the sharp stab of glass shifting beneath my skin.
The Arbiterwing beat its wings once—massive currents of air tearing across the rooftop, throwing debris like shrapnel. Containers skidded. Weeds flattened. Loose metal clattered like bones.
Another barrage of feathers fell.
I slid under one, firing upward as I passed.
The bullet struck deep—light pulsed—tether severed.
Elara carved through another, golden energy crackling along her blade from the Aether Core.
Sylus ripped one free with a lash of black-red mist, crushing it midair.
We worked in brutal sync:
Sylus disrupting.
Elara slicing.
Me covering angles and clearing the ones they couldn't reach.
Each destroyed tether made the Arbiterwing shudder in the air, its body wavering like a glitching hologram.
The protofield around it pulsed violently.
A final tether remained.
I sprinted.
A feather as long as my leg hurled downward toward me.
Too fast to dodge.
"Diana!" Elara shouted—
—but Sylus was already there, mist snapping outward to catch the feather mid-fall. He redirected its momentum with a brutal twist, slamming it into the rooftop.
I didn't waste the opening.
I fired twice.
The last tether shattered.
Gravity took hold.
The Arbiterwing plummeted like a fallen deity, smashing into the rooftop with a force that shook the entire structure. Dust exploded in a blinding wave. Cracks spiderwebbed beneath its weight.
The protofield erupted.
A protocore shield snapped around the creature—unstable, shimmering, distorted. Energy rippled through the air like heatwaves.
Elara and Sylus exchanged a look.
A hum passed between them—
not words.
Not even sound.
Resonance.
The same one the game described.
Sylus shifted his stance. Elara mirrored him.
Their combined energy hit the protocore shield in a crackling shockwave—black-red mist colliding with golden light. The barrier fractured—
—then shattered.
The Arbiterwing reeled, exposed.
"Go!" I shouted, circling wide to watch its wings.
Elara lunged in first, blade glowing with the Aether Core's power. She drove her strike into its exposed flank—stone cracked, light bleeding through the fracture.
Sylus followed, mist slicing across its chest in a vicious arc.
The Arbiterwing shrieked, wings thrashing. Stone feathers flew like broken shrapnel.
"WATCH THE WINGS!" I yelled.
A feather—jagged, glowing—hurtled toward Sylus.
He didn't see it.
I fired mid-sprint—
the bullet shattered the feather inches before it hit him.
He glanced back.
A very brief, very faint acknowledgement.
Then the sky darkened.
Arcs of wild energy crackled around the Arbiterwing's wings as its form twisted, corruption threading deeper through its stone body. The protofield surged back to life.
A deep hum vibrated through the rooftop—
—and lightning fell.
Not bolts.
Sheets.
Raw energy rained down in chaotic waves, scorching the ground, blasting apart containers, turning debris into molten shards.
"Move!" Sylus barked.
We moved.
Elara dashed through debris with sharp, controlled steps, dodging each strike by a breath. I followed her movement from the opposite angle—covering the blind spots, firing at the feathers before they fully crystallized.
Sylus—
—was a storm.
Mist lashed outward, catching incoming feathers and redirecting the lightning strikes, bending the battlefield to his will.
He pulled three feathers into a tight cluster—
"Elara!"
—and she leapt in, slicing them apart in a clean, fluid arc.
I took down another from behind with a sharp shot that sent the creature faltering.
The Arbiterwing's form stuttered, corruption flickering like unstable code.
Its protocore shield reformed—
struggling, flickering, weaker than before.
Elara tightened her grip.
Her blade glowed brighter.
Sylus's eyes sharpened.
Mist gathered around him like a living shadow.
They were resonating again.
Then—
"Diana! NOW!" Elara shouted.
I saw it too:
The Arbiterwing raised its wings for one final barrage.
If it fired—
we'd be obliterated.
I sprinted, lungs tearing.
Blood trickled down my side in a warm line.
Glass shifted beneath my ribs.
I ignored all of it.
I aimed at the exposed fracture running along the Arbiterwing's sternum—
the weak point from the original fight.
I fired.
The round struck deep—light flared—
—opening the core wide.
"Elara!" I yelled.
She didn't hesitate.
She sprinted, leapt onto a collapsed pillar, and used it as a springboard.
Her silhouette flashed against the vortex-streaked sky as she launched herself straight onto the creature's chest.
Her blade plunged into the exposed weakness.
Sylus's mist slammed into the same point from below.
CRACK—
The protocore shattered.
Light burst outward in a blinding explosion.
The Arbiterwing let out one final, gut-wrenching screech, wings convulsing violently—
—and then its massive form collapsed, breaking apart into crumbling stone and dissipating light that scattered across the rooftop like falling stars.
Silence fell.
My chest heaved.
My hands shook.
Elara remained perched on the Arbiterwing's chest for a moment, breaths sharp and fast, before she finally looked down.
Her eyes found mine—
—and for a heartbeat, she smiled.
Not as the heiress.
Not as the heroine.
Just Elara.
Alive.
Victorious.
And grateful I was there.