Back in his tiny, modular apartment, Sage poured a precisely measured thimble of Aqua Vitae into a glass. He held it up to the light.
It was perfectly clear, impossibly pure. It hummed with a faint, palpable energy that made the air tingle.
The Syndicate said they understood its mechanics. But what were they? What were the rules of this world, really?
He unfolded the dust-rubbing on his table. The spiral fracture. He opened his journal, not the official ration log, but his private one. The one filled with sketches of old world rivers, equations about energy potential, and questions.
Rule 1, he wrote. Aqua Vitae is the sole source of Water, Energy, and Residual Magic (W.E.R.M.).
Rule 2. The Syndicate controls all access to and measurement of W.E.R.M.
Rule 3. Public knowledge of W.E.R.M.'s properties is limited to its utility. Its fundamental nature is a state secret.
He looked at the rubbing. A crack in Rule 3.
He thought of the stranger's words. Where to apply leverage.
Sage took a sip of the Vitae. It was more than hydration. It was a cool, clear thread of potential running through him. A thread currently controlled by others.
He didn't just want to solve a mystery. He wanted to solve the mystery. The one that governed every aspect of his life.
The puzzle of the Aqua Vitae had been presented. And Sage Pendragon, practical routine warring with insatiable curiosity, decided to play.
He picked up his pencil. Outside, the Spire glowed, a silent, ruthless sentinel over a thirsty world. The game was on.