The Exorcist's voice, amplified by Prana resonators, was a cold blade cutting through the walls. Solon stood firm, his left hand raised before him, the five pillars of the Demonium pulsing with a dark, impatient glow.
"Anomaly Solon, Apartment 402. You are under a Class 4 Sealing Procedure," the voice repeated. "Deactivate your Prana and prepare for extraction. Any resistance will be met with immediate purging."
"Extraction?" Solon scoffed, rage rising within him, structured like a cold equation. "You want to extract what you abandoned to die."
The living room ceiling exploded. It wasn't a simple impact, but a targeted kinetic shockwave that pulverized concrete and conduits. The Inquisitor descended slowly, supported by wings of rigid Prana that shimmered under the violet light of the surveillance drones. His featureless iron mask reflected the chaos of the ruins. In his hand, a spear of purified Prana burned with unbearable intensity.
"Your file is complete, Anomaly," the Inquisitor declared, his voice a monotone drone. "A survivor of the Glass Realm. A human who fused with the Demonium. An abomination. Your existence is a wound in reality. I have come to cauterize it."
Solon looked at the wreckage of his apartment. His sanctuary, his books, his "normal" life—all reduced to dust. He activated The Seer (pinky), and the Inquisitor's aura appeared to him: a fortress of pure Prana, dense, unshakable, without a single flaw for the Sorcerer or the Demon to exploit.
"It's not a wound," Solon said, his voice glacial. "It's a correction."
He activated The Sorcerer (ring finger), but not to attack. He created a small bubble of shadow around himself, disrupting the Inquisitor's sensors. Then, he lunged.
Solon utilized mixed martial arts—boxing for speed, karate for raw force. His body, reinforced by the raw Prana he had consolidated, had become a living projectile. He struck the Inquisitor with a lightning-fast series of punches and kicks, not seeking to pierce the Prana armor yet, but to break the Inquisitor's balance.
The Inquisitor was taken aback by this physical onslaught. He expected spells, not a barrage of strikes. He blocked most of the attacks with his spear, but Solon's spinning kick, charged with a burst of consolidated Prana, forced him back a step.
"Interesting," the Inquisitor muttered. "A hybrid martial style... You have the violence of an animal."
"I have the efficiency of a formula," Solon countered.
Solon didn't give his opponent a moment to breathe. He followed up with a Jiu-Jitsu feint, attempting to seize the Inquisitor's spear arm. The Inquisitor reacted with staggering strength, repelling Solon with a Prana push that hurled him against the opposite wall.
Solon rolled, cushioning the impact, and rose with his middle finger extended: The Demon.
"Let's see if your marble stands against the void."
He didn't strike the spear. He traced a diagonal line in the air, right in front of the Inquisitor's arm. The Demon's void-blade sliced through the Inquisitor's purified Prana armor. A crack appeared in the dense matter, a trickle of white Prana escaping the gash.
The Inquisitor hissed in surprise. His Prana armor, considered impenetrable, had been breached. He leveled his spear, his eyes beneath the mask glowing with a more intense violet light.
"You are more dangerous than expected, Anomaly. But raw force can be bypassed."
The Inquisitor charged. His body became a missile, his spear tracing a deadly white line toward Solon's heart. It was a frontal attack, no frills, but with crushing power.
Solon used Tai Chi, not to dodge, but to absorb and redirect the energy. He crossed his arms, The Plague (index finger) activated on both. At the moment of impact, there was no shock. The spear's energy slid along the invisible curvature created by the Plague, diverting the attack's trajectory. The spear passed millimeters from his head, destroying the wall behind him.
Solon, using the momentum of the deflection, pivoted. He folded his fingers, leaving only his thumb extended: The Parasite.
"You wanted to extract me?" Solon said, his voice full of cold determination. "I'll show you what true extraction looks like."
He slammed his thumb onto the Inquisitor's helmet.
"Page 1: Infection."
A circle of luminous roots, a violent emerald green, erupted from the tattoo and plunged into the Inquisitor's Prana armor. The Inquisitor's powerful aura flickered, then began to be sucked—slowly but surely—toward Solon's Codex.
"Impossible!" the Inquisitor screamed, his voice echoing with a rage never heard before. "No one can absorb my Prana!"
The Inquisitor's body began to tremble, his hands clutching Solon's arm to push him away, but the Parasite was anchored. Solon felt the raw power flooding his veins, the Inquisitor's pure Prana mixing with his own, making him stronger, faster, brighter.
The Inquisitor, seeing his power slip away, realized he was losing. He had never met a human capable of such energetic parasitism.
"Drones!" the Inquisitor gasped through the drain. "Deploy the Sealing Protocol! Immediately!"
Outside, the drones activated massive resonators. Beams of golden light erupted from the sky, forming a gigantic bell that began to descend over all of Sector 4.
"A Resonance Trap!" Kael realized, having watched the duel from the ruins. "They're going to seal the entire district!"
Solon felt a wave of Prana crash over him, a side effect of the trap's activation. He was still connected to the Inquisitor, absorbing his strength. If he stayed, he would be sealed with him.
"Kael!"
"Cut the connection! If you stay, you die!" Kael shouted, throwing himself toward the edge of the golden bell, his silhouette flickering. "Fly, Solon! Go where glass reflects nothing!"
The choice was impossible. The Architect could not let his only foundation be devoured. But he also knew that a dead Architect draws nothing more. Solon cut the absorption flow of the Parasite, causing a glass explosion that threw him backward, just as the golden bell of light slammed shut—trapping the Inquisitor, the drones, and Kael inside a condemned space-time.
Solon fell into the building's maintenance tunnels, his left arm burning, his heart empty. He was alone. The world was hunting him. And his only family had just been devoured by those who protected the lie.