The chilling realization of High Sage Theronius's ancient power left Elias feeling adrift, a tiny boat on a vast, unfathomable ocean of manipulation. The danger was escalating, and his existing tools felt inadequate. He returned to his cubicle, the weight of the universe's true scale pressing down on him.
Mei Lin approached him quietly, her eyes bright with a thoughtful earnestness that, for once, didn't irritate him. "Analyst Thorne," she said, holding out a small, stoppered vial of iridescent liquid. "I remembered you mentioning the Sylvan concepts of spiritual clarity. Faelan's daughter, Lyra—the Grove Warden—she gave me this. It's a special 'karmic tea,' a Sylvan brew crafted from ancient forest herbs. She said it sharpens the mind, allows for a deeper connection to the flow of prana. I thought it might assist you with your… complex analyses."
Elias took the vial. The liquid shimmered, emitting a faint, earthy aroma. He recognized the subtle signature of the Sylvan charm he'd received earlier, the karmic anchor. Mei Lin, in her innocent desire to help, was unknowingly deepening his connections to sources of power and information. He felt a familiar pang of guilt for his continued deception, but pushed it aside. He needed every advantage he could get.
"Thank you, Mei Lin," he said, offering a rare, genuine smile. "This is a thoughtful gift. I will certainly make use of it."
He waited until she had returned to her terminal, then poured a small amount of the tea into a cup. The brew was surprisingly warm, with a complex taste that was both earthy and subtly sweet. As he drank, a gentle warmth spread through him, not unlike a minor cultivation surge. His mind felt sharper, clearer, as if a veil had been lifted. The ambient hum of the Karmic Ledger in the Bureau seemed to resonate more distinctly, each tiny data flicker a clearer note in a vast symphony.
He decided to put his enhanced clarity to a hidden test. He pulled out his Karmic Lens and, instead of focusing it on a case file, he subtly swept it across his own environment, seeking out unseen energies, lingering spiritual imprints.
What he saw through the lens made his blood run cold.
The world, already a swirling maelstrom of karmic threads to his augmented sight, now revealed something new, something terrifyingly specific. Trailing from his own person, from his clothes, from his chair, from the path he had taken from his apartment to the Bureau that morning, were faint, almost imperceptible strands of karmic residue. They were like faint, ethereal spiderwebs, leading directly back towards the main thoroughfares, then fading. But more chillingly, connected to these fading threads, he saw a distinct, subtle karmic bond—a faint, almost ghostly echo. It was the same unique signature he had observed from the dead Naga informant in the alley, the one whose karma had been purged from the Ledger.
Elias gasped, a silent, internal horror. The Sylvan tea had temporarily enhanced his vision beyond what the lens normally allowed, showing him lingering spiritual imprints he shouldn't have been able to see. He had thought the Naga's karma had been fully erased, a complete oblivion. But it hadn't been. A minute, spectral trace remained, not in the Ledger, but in the raw, ambient karmic flow of the world.
This meant someone, or something, was tracking his movements through residual karma. The dead Naga informant hadn't just been observed; he had been using Elias, unknowingly, as a beacon. And the entity that had purged the Naga from the Ledger was now tracking Elias through those same invisible threads.
The tea's clarity, instead of offering solace, had delivered a crushing blow. He was not just observed by a sentient AI node, or ancient Sages, or rival Guilds. He was being stalked, his every step leaving an invisible trail for an unseen predator with the power to erase lives. The hunter had become the hunted, and the karmic threads he sought to manipulate were now binding him to his doom.