Nathan fought his way toward the center of the factory floor.
His [Hunter's Insight] was screaming. Not with enemy markers—those were everywhere, a sea of red. But with something else. A pattern. A rhythm. The machinery wasn't random. It was structured. Organized. Everything fed into a single point, deep below the floor, where the orange glow was brightest and the grinding was loudest.
He reached the edge of the central platform and looked down.
The floor was grated iron, and through the gaps, he could see a massive shaft descending hundreds of feet into the earth. But there was no monster at the bottom. No half-built god of flesh and metal.
Instead, there was a vortex.
A colossal, blinding whirlpool of pure, liquid light. It was beautiful, in a sickening, wrong way. And flowing into that vortex from thousands of green tubes were not just mana or life force.
Then he saw Through Hunter's insight.
Threads.
