The world outside the Academy was no longer the world I knew. Without the hum of the protective wards, the air felt raw, like an open wound. Aiden and I moved through the grey ash that now carpeted the South Garden, our footsteps silent. The sentient sculptures that once danced with magical life were now nothing more than twisted, blackened husks. I felt a cold knot in my stomach. I had done this. I had breathed, and the garden had died.
"Don't look back," Aiden hissed, his hand gripping mine so tightly I could feel the thrum of the red-lit pendant between us. "If you look back, you'll see what you've become, and right now, we need you to be what you're becoming."
Behind us, the Academy was a jagged silhouette against a bruised sky. But it wasn't empty. I could hear the rhythmic clank of armor—Inquisitor scouts. They were moving through the ruins with "Mage-Scent" hounds, creatures bred to track the lingering metallic tang of erased magic. They were hunting us, not as students, but as vermin that had infested their sanctuary.
We reached the edge of the campus, where the massive iron gates had melted into puddles of useless metal. Beyond lay the sprawl of the outer city, a maze of narrow alleys and leaning tenements where those without magic lived in the shadow of the elite. As we dived into the first alleyway, the smell of damp earth and poverty hit me. It was a stark contrast to the sterile, scented air of the Arcanum.
"We need a carriage," I whispered, my voice scratching my throat. The hunger was returning, a low growl in my bones. "I can't walk to the Wall, Aiden. My legs... they feel like they're made of glass."
Aiden pulled me into the shadow of a recessed doorway. He looked at me, his eyes searching my face. The translucent glow beneath my skin had faded, leaving me deathly pale again. "The 'Wasting' is accelerating because you tasted real power, Rowen. Your body is like a furnace that just realized it can burn more than wood. It wants coal. It wants diamonds."
He reached into his cloak and pulled out a small, silver vial. Inside, a viscous gold liquid swirled. "This is concentrated Malla-nectar. It's illegal, highly addictive, and it's the only thing that will keep your heart beating until we reach the border."
"Where did you get that?" I asked, eyeing the vial with a mixture of fear and longing.
"I told you," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper as a patrol of city guards marched past the end of the alley. "I was built to be your anchor. I've been stealing these from Malakai's private stores for months. Drink."
The nectar tasted like liquid sunlight and burnt sugar. The moment it hit my tongue, the world snapped into sharp focus. The ache in my joints vanished, replaced by a terrifying surge of artificial energy. My heart began to drum a frantic rhythm against my ribs. I felt like I could sprint to the horizon and never stop. But beneath the rush, there was a whisper—a dark, quiet voice that wasn't my own—thanking me for the fuel.
We found a transport—a rusted, horse-drawn cart used for hauling scrap metal. The driver was a man whose eyes were clouded with cataracts, his magic so dim it was almost non-existent. He didn't care who we were, only that Aiden had a gold coin that hummed with enough residual energy to pay for his retirement.
As the cart rattled over the cobblestones toward the North Gate, I sat in the back, hidden under a moth-eaten tarp. Aiden sat beside me, staring at the obsidian pendant. It was pulsing slower now, like a sated predator.
"Tell me about the sister," I said, the nectar making my thoughts race. "Subject No. 1. You called her a Crusher. If she's a monster, why are we going to her?"
Aiden sighed, a sound of profound exhaustion. "Because she wasn't always a monster. She was the first one to realize that the Arcanum isn't teaching magic—they're farming it. They take children like us, children born with the Anomaly, and they try to 'prune' the chaotic parts of our souls. They want a battery they can control. Your sister refused to be pruned. She let the chaos grow. The warbeasts... they aren't an invading army, Rowen. They're a jailbreak."
I looked at my hands. The grey shimmer was back behind my fingernails. "And what am I? The second attempt at a jailbreak? Or the one meant to lock the doors?"
Aiden didn't answer. Instead, he pulled the tarp tighter around us as we approached the city's outer checkpoint. I could hear the guards shouting, the sound of heavy boots. Then, a sound that made my blood turn to ice: the high-pitched, melodic chime of a "Truth-Stone."
"Identification," a guard barked, slamming his fist against the side of the cart.
The cart stopped. I held my breath, my skin beginning to itch. The nectar in my veins was reacting to the guard's proximity. He had a small amount of mana—enough to light a fire or ward off a chill. To me, he smelled like a fresh meal.
"Just scrap, officer," the driver wheezed. "Taking it to the foundry before the morning shift."
"There's a lockdown," the guard said. "An Anomaly escaped the Academy. They say she's dangerous. Move the tarp."
I felt Aiden's hand move toward the hilt of a concealed dagger. My heart hammered. Please, don't look, I prayed. Don't look.
The tarp was yanked back. The light of the guard's lantern flooded our hiding spot. I squinted, my eyes burning. The guard stared at us—at the pale girl and the boy with the glowing pendant. His eyes widened. He opened his mouth to shout, but no sound came out.
I didn't mean to do it. I swear I didn't.
But the hunger took over. It reached out from my skin like invisible tendrils. I watched, horrified and fascinated, as the color drained from the guard's face. The light in his lantern flickered and died. The silver buttons on his uniform tarnished in seconds. He collapsed against the wheel of the cart, his skin turning a sickly, papery grey. He wasn't dead, but he was hollow. I had eaten his strength.
"Drive!" Aiden shouted at the terrified driver.
The whip cracked, and the cart jolted forward, racing through the open gate before the other guards could realize what had happened. I slumped back against the scrap metal, tears stinging my eyes.
"I didn't want to," I sobbed, clutching my stomach. "Aiden, I'm a monster. I'm just like her."
Aiden grabbed my shoulders, shaking me. "Look at me, Rowen! You didn't kill him. You survived. That is the only rule in this world now. They made you this way. They built the hunger into you. Do not apologize for what they created."
His voice was harsh, but his eyes were filled with a terrifying sort of pride. He wasn't scared of me. He was in love with the destruction I could cause. The realization was a cold splash of water. Did he love me, or did he love the weapon I was becoming?
As the city disappeared behind us, the landscape shifted. The lush fields of the inner territories gave way to the "Salt-Flats," a barren wasteland where nothing grew. In the distance, the Great Wall stood like a jagged scar across the earth, five hundred feet of reinforced stone and ancient enchantments. And above it, the sky was no longer blue. It was a swirling vortex of bruised purple and grey.
Suddenly, a shadow fell over the cart. I looked up and screamed.
It wasn't a bird. It was a "Seeker"—a winged warbeast with a head like a bleached skull and eyes that burned with blue fire. It circled us, its shriek a discordant note that shattered the glass bottles in the back of the cart.
"They found us," Aiden cursed, standing up and drawing a short-sword etched with violet runes. "The nectar... the scent was too strong."
The Seeker dived. Its talons, made of sharpened bone, tore through the wooden slats of the cart. The driver was thrown from his seat, disappearing into the dark. The cart flipped, sending Aiden and me sprawling into the salt and dust.
I scrambled to my feet, my vision swimming. The Seeker landed a few yards away, its wingspan blocking out the stars. It didn't attack. It tilted its skull-head, watching me. Then, it did something that shattered my remaining sanity.
It bowed.
A low, guttural vibration rumbled from its throat—a sound that translated in my mind as a name. Rowen.
"It knows you," Aiden whispered, pushing himself up from the ground, his face bruised and bleeding. "It's not here to kill you. It's an escort."
From the darkness beyond the Seeker, a figure emerged. It moved with a disjointed, predatory grace. At first, I thought it was another beast, but as it stepped into the dim light of the dying nectar in my veins, I saw the truth.
It was a woman. Her clothes were rags, her skin was the color of wood ash, and her hair was a white, tangled mess. But her eyes... her eyes were mine. Grey, swirling with static, and ancient.
"Sister," she said, her voice sounding like two stones grinding together.
She held out a hand. Her fingers were long, tipped with hardened, obsidian-like nails. On her wrist was a rusted metal shackle, the chain broken.
"The Academy sent a boy to watch you," she said, her gaze flickering to Aiden with cold contempt. "But I sent the storm to wake you. Come, Little Anomaly. Our creators are hungry, and it's time we fed them... ourselves."
I looked at Aiden, then back at the woman who was the nightmare version of my future. The nectar was wearing off, and the cold was returning. The world was on the edge of a war that would erase everything, and I was standing between the boy who wanted to lead me and the monster who wanted to free me.
I took a step toward her.
"Tell me," I whispered. "Does the hunger ever stop?"
My sister smiled, revealing teeth that had been filed into points. "No, Rowen. But you get used to the taste of gods."
Behind us, the horizon ignited. Malakai hadn't given up. A fleet of "Air-Galleons," their hulls glowing with holy fire, appeared in the distance. The Arcanum was coming to take back its property.
"Choose," Aiden hissed, his sword glowing. "The boy or the beast, Rowen. Choose now."
I looked at the sky, then at the sister I never knew I had. I didn't choose either. I reached out and touched the salt beneath my feet, letting the hunger spiral down into the very earth.
"I'm done choosing," I said, my voice echoing with a power that shook the Great Wall itself. "I'm going to end the game."