They walked back to the Low-Sector in a profound silence. The Syndicate hadn't just dismissed their finding; they had confiscated and redefined it. The puzzle had a new, terrifying rule: The house always controls the narrative.
Back at his apartment, Sage didn't delete the data. He transferred it to a hidden partition on his personal pad. A secret file labeled "Hydrology."
He opened his journal.
Rule 4: Magical resonance from the Aqua Vitae can be weaponized or can cause uncontrolled damage.
Rule 5: The Syndicate actively suppresses all knowledge of Rule 4.
Corollary: The true mechanics of W.E.R.M. are volatile. Their control is an illusion maintained by force and information control.
He was about to close the book when a soft tap came at his window. Not the door. The window.
He pulled back the shade. Outside, in the deep gloom, stood the man from the alley—Lysander Chrismont. He held up a small, opaque vial, then pointed to the door.
Heart hammering, Sage went to the entrance and cracked it open.
Lysander slipped inside, decisive and quiet. He placed the vial on Sage's table. It swirled with a faint, internal silvery light.
"A sample," Lysander said, his voice low and compelling. "From a 'spillage' event three months ago, in a sector they sealed off. It's not just water. It's raw potential, corrupted by their forced manipulations."
"Who are you?" Sage breathed.
"Someone who believes the first crack is where we apply leverage," Lysander said, his Vitae-blue eyes intense. "They're playing with forces they barely understand, making the source sick to keep their power pure. You've seen the symptoms. I'm looking for a diagnosis. And a cure."
He looked at Sage's open journal, at the rubbing on the wall.
"They think in terms of control and quotas," Lysander said. "We need to think in terms of currents, pressure, and purification. Are you content to just log the cracks, Pendragon? Or are you ready to help reroute the river?"
He didn't wait for an answer. He placed a data-chip next to the vial. "Coordinates. To a place where the old rules don't apply. Where we can see the whole board."
With a final, inspiring nod that brooked no hesitation, Lysander was gone, vanishing into the thirsty night.
Sage picked up the chip and the vial. The liquid inside pulsed, warm and strange.
The puzzle was no longer abstract. It was in his hands. And the mysterious man had just offered him a way to stop being a piece, and start being a player.