The Grand Hall was empty, the scent of expensive perfumes and terror still lingering in the air. Omar stood alone in front of the Golden Core, which was no longer pulsing with a steady light. Instead, it was spinning frantically, tearing small holes in the fabric of the room.
"Master," Kaelen appeared, his void-armor humming. "The Earth is secure. Marouane is in the mines, and the World Council has accepted your terms. But the shop... it's rejecting this dimension."
"I know," Omar said, his eyes fixed on the new interface. "My mother didn't build this place to be a shop in Casablanca. She built it to be a bridge."
[Initiating Dimensional Jump...]
[Destination: The Soul Market (The Neutral Zone).]
[Warning: Your 'Human' physical form cannot survive the 7th Dimension.]
Laila walked in, carrying a bag of supplies. She had cut her hair short and wore a suit of armor made from the Harvester's scrap. "I'm not staying behind, Omar. If we're going to the 7th Dimension, I'm going as your blade."
Omar looked at her, then at the warning on the screen. "To survive there, Laila, we have to stop being human. We have to become 'Conceptual Entities'. Are you ready to leave your mortality behind?"
Laila didn't blink. "I lost my mortality the day I met you. Let's go."
Omar slammed his staff into the center of the Core. The Infinite Realm Emporium groaned. Outside, in the streets of Casablanca, people looked up to see the black tower suddenly turn translucent, then flicker like a dying candle, before vanishing entirely with a silent implosion.
The 7th Dimension: The Soul Market
Omar opened his eyes, but he didn't see with them. He felt.
They weren't in a city. They were in a nebula of purple and gold gas. Floating islands the size of continents drifted through the air, connected by bridges of pure light. This was the Soul Market, the only place in the Multiverse where Architects, Demons, and Ancient Gods traded as equals.
[New Status: Soul-Merchant (Rank: Novice).]
[Current Currency: 0 Soul-Ember.]
The Emporium had landed on a floating dock. As Omar stepped out, he felt the crushing weight of the atmosphere. Every being walking past him was a nightmare: seven-foot-tall shadows with multiple eyes, floating brains in jars, and merchants made of living fire.
"Look at that," a voice hissed from the shadows.
A creature with the head of a goat and the body of a man dressed in a silk robe approached them. He was a Broker of Souls.
"A human? In the Soul Market? And he brought a whole building with him," the creature laughed, a sound like dry leaves. "You must be the 'Heir' everyone is talking about. The one who broke the Architects' toy."
Omar straightened his suit, despite the pressure. "I'm Omar. And I'm looking for the High Exchange. I have something to sell."
"And what could a little human have that would interest the 7th Dimension?" the Broker sneered.
Omar reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, glowing cube—a fragment of the Architect's Core he had kept hidden. "I have the 'Source Code' for the Earth Sector. And I'm looking for information about the woman who wrote it."
The Broker's eyes widened. The air around them suddenly grew cold.
"Careful, boy," the Broker whispered, his tone shifting from mockery to fear. "In this market, secrets are more expensive than souls. Mentioning her name here is like lighting a match in a room full of gunpowder."
Suddenly, a massive gong echoed across the islands.
[Event Alert: The Auction of the Great Spirits is beginning.]
[Featured Item: The 'Frozen Soul' of a Woman from Earth.]
Omar's blood turned to ice. He looked at Laila, and they both knew. His mother wasn't just a memory. She was a Product.
"Change of plans," Omar said, his voice dripping with a new, darker resolve. "I'm not here to trade. I'm here for a Hostile Takeover."