The glass seal of his guild issued spark cracked under his thumb.
Light bled out, not in a single flare, but in a slow, deliberate unfurling, like a predator stretching in the dark. The air thickened, pressing against his skin from every side.
Sound warped first. The patter of rain dulled to a distant hiss, replaced by a low, thrumming pulse in his ears that matched the Spark's heartbeat. The edges of the yard bent subtly inward, angles tilting wrong, depth shifting until even Veyr's stance looked like it might slide sideways off the world.
A flash of green flooded his vision, not light but writing.
Not on the walls. Not in the air. Inside.
Runes scrolled past his thoughts with the clarity of spoken words, each one slotting into place as if they'd been there all along.
[Guild Rune Record – Mobility Class Spark]
Designation: Skystep
Domain: Momentum & Spatial Positioning
Tier: Tier 2, Flare
Charge: 100%
Integration Type: Temporary infusion, binds to user's nervous and muscular systems.
Primary Function: Enhances short-burst acceleration, agility, and aerial control. Allows mild, controlled spatial compression for rapid pivots, tight manoeuvres, and sudden speed bursts.
Secondary Effects: Heightened reflex processing, brief reaction compression (slowed perception of motion), and improved balance in confined spaces.
Limitations: Duration tied to Spark charge; depletes quickly under sustained use. Use recommended only for Soulfire Rank 2 (Resonant) and above. Risk of muscle and joint damage if pushed beyond tolerance.
Guild Advisory: Authorised for courier emergency use only. Misuse in combat scenarios carries penalty under Article 7, Section 3.
The words vanished as quickly as they came, but the sensation stayed, weightless and sharp, like his body had just remembered it was supposed to be faster. His joints loosened. The world drew in closer, each street, each line of stone, suddenly a handhold waiting to be taken.
He'd used Fleetstep before, Tier 1, in drills, in bad runs, the kind of nights where you only made it home because your feet were quicker than your mistakes. It wasn't a combat tool. Not really. Couriers didn't get Sparks for fighting; they got them to move. To evade. To live long enough to hand over the package.
But Kaelen had pushed it further than most. Every burst mapped in his head. Every corner, every pivot, shaved to the barest margin before collapse. He could feel the exact moment before momentum turned to overbalance, the point where one more step meant losing everything. That was what kept him alive.
Tier 2 should have been out of reach. Not by skill, but by the tether. His Soulfire wasn't built to hold it at full burn, not yet. Without that strength, most Couriers would burn the charge out in seconds, the strain tearing through muscle and bone.
But Kaelen didn't fight Sparks the way many did. He didn't try to brute-force them. He shaped them. Broke them into bursts, bled the charge only where it counted, cutting waste until every drop of power worked for him instead of against him. It wasn't raw strength. It was control. Precision.
The Guild had noticed. Eventually. Months of clearance requests, trial runs, and arguments with a Guild Handler who said Tier 1 was "more than enough for someone his rank." And then, one signed authorisation. One Tier 2 spark in his monthly allotment, "Flare grade," the paper called it. The kind of thing you only got after advancing past Awakened, after advancing your Soulfire and proving your tether could take it.
He wasn't supposed to have it. Not really. But it was in his hands now, and for the first time, he was going to see what it could do when it mattered.
Veyr's eyes narrowed the instant the runes faded from Kaelen's vision.
"What have you done, kid?" The words weren't surprised, they were flat, like a man acknowledging the start of a job he already knew would be messy.
Kaelen shifted his weight, the Spark humming in his legs, the space between them drawing tighter in ways Veyr might not have seen but felt.
Veyr's grip on the chain didn't shift, but the woman's breath hitched all the same. "You've got no stake here," he said, voice level. "Whatever you think this is, you're late to it. Walk away."
"On a sanctioned run," Kaelen said, voice steady. "Package to deliver. And this is on the way."
Veyr eased the chain just enough for the woman to drag in a sharp, painful breath, not mercy, just a pause before the next turn of the screw. His mouth curved, cold and thin.
"That so?"
"You've got your badge," Kaelen said. "Doesn't mean you get to choke someone out in an alley because it's quicker than asking questions."
The Enforcer's grip didn't shift. Neither did his stance. "And you think you're the one who's going to stop me?"
Kaelen rolled his shoulders once, loosening the stiffness. "Think? No, I can't" His eyes cut to the woman for a heartbeat before coming back. "But I know I'm faster."
Veyr's mouth ticked, not quite a smile, more a small shift that said he'd caught the meaning.
"Tier Two, is it? First time in using it in the field?"
Kaelen didn't answer.
Veyr took a slow breath through his nose, like he already knew.
"Burn that charge here, and you won't make it halfway to the street. Down a Spark… down a future.
"Then I'd better make it count."
No warning, no feint, he moved.
The Spark detonated through his legs, Skystep dragging the world into sudden, elastic motion. The rain hung in the air like scattered glass; stone blurred beneath his boots. The space between him and the woman collapsed in three heartbeats.
Veyr's free hand came up, palm open. A second chain whipped into being, snapping from the air like it had always been there, its arc perfectly angled to intercept where Kaelen would land.
Kaelen twisted mid-step, letting Skystep's compression pull his path tighter. His shoulder brushed the wet stone wall; the chain hissed past close enough for the spray of rain off its links to sting his cheek.
He hit the ground low, weight already rolling forward. Fingers hooked the chain binding the woman's throat and yanked, not enough to free her, but enough to drag Veyr a half-step off balance.
The Enforcer didn't falter for long. His other hand opened again, the second chain melting back into nothing, replaced by a ripple in the air, a shimmering wall of pressure that swept outward in a wide arc, filling the yard.
Area control. Meant to catch him where Skystep couldn't take him: everywhere at once.
Kaelen didn't fight it head-on. He bled the Spark in short, sharp bursts, foot to wall, wall to barrel, barrel to rooftop lip, using the compression not to outrun the pressure, but to move between the gaps it left. Skystep made the yard a map in his head, every vector laid bare, and he traced the one line that threaded through without touching the swell.
He dropped in from above, hands locking on the chain at the woman's throat. The first wrench stripped two coils; the second broke the angle enough for her to suck in a ragged breath.
Veyr was already pulling back, chain snapping taut, trying to reel them both in. Kaelen planted a boot against the wall, Spark flaring through his legs, and let the recoil tear her free of the last loop.
The weight came with him, the woman stumbling forward, still bound at the wrists but breathing. He shoved her toward the narrow gap between the wall and a stack of crates.
Almost.
The chain came again, faster this time, catching her ankle before she cleared the gap. Her cry was swallowed by the rain. Kaelen pivoted back, Spark still humming, but Veyr had her anchored now, and every link between them was a tether he'd have to cut.
He stepped in, feinting left, Veyr's eyes tracked, his grip shifting, then cut hard right, Skystep compressing the space in a way that left his afterimage hanging where he'd been. His boot slammed into the chain just above her ankle. The force rattled through the links, jarring Veyr's stance but not breaking it.
"Persistent little bastard," Veyr muttered, pulling hard. The woman skidded across the slick stones toward him.
Kaelen lunged again, going low this time, hand snapping out for the chain. Veyr's free arm moved, too fast, and the world seemed to thicken, the same lattice-field from before flaring out in a wide sweep.
Kaelen pushed off before it caught him, Skystep bleeding charge in a short, brutal burst that launched him over the wave. He landed beside the woman, grabbed the chain near the cuff, and twisted. His foot came down on the link, the leverage snapping one joint, but the rest held tight.
Veyr's stance didn't falter. His gaze flicked between Kaelen and the woman, calculating. "You think you can win this game of inches, courier? You've got seconds before that Spark burns out."
Kaelen ignored him, wrenching the broken link wider. The chain strained, but his grip was slipping on the rain-slick metal.
Then he felt her move.
Her other hand came up from inside her coat, holding something small and black, no bigger than her palm. Metal, engraved in runes so fine they almost looked like cracks.
Veyr's eyes went sharp. "Don't,"
She snapped the seal.
The air imploded. Rain froze mid-fall, droplets stretching toward her hand. Kaelen's stomach churned as the pressure punched into him, a gravitational pull that wasn't pulling him down but in.
The thing inside wasn't light, it was absence. Cold, absolute, and aware.
And it was looking at him.