Sylas Korr's silver hair flashed under Ironhaven's dim Aether lanterns as she ducked into the abandoned shack, grey eyes locking onto Toren. The tinkerer stood in the shadows, his pale face sharp, obsidian eyes glinting with secrets. The Ecliptic Codex pulsed in her chest, ember-like runes glowing on her scarred skin.
"You're the watcher?" she growled, her voice laced with Ironhaven gangster venom. "Toren, my Toren? Start talkin', or I burn that gadget to scrap."
Toren raised his hands, his Aether device—a clunky mess of gears and glowing runes—whirring softly in the gloom. "Sylas, chill. I wasn't spying to hurt you. I saw the Behemoth fight. That power—it's the Codex, right?"
"Clever boy," the Codex purred in her mind, its tone smug and teasing. "He knows more than he should. Be careful, spark."
Sylas bared her teeth, all defiance and swagger. "You know about this glow-ball in my chest? Spill, tinker, or we're gonna have a problem." Her runes flared, Emberclad heat rising up her arms like living flame. She didn't want to hurt Toren—he'd been her only ally back when the gangs called her Silver Weakling and stole her food scraps. But secrets got people killed, and she was done bleeding for someone else's lie.
Outside, Sentinel boots clanged on rusted walkways, their Aether blades humming with menace. The violet glow of a new Veil pulsed in the sky, larger than any she'd seen. Its hum rattled her bones.
Toren glanced at the door, face paling. "No time. They're after you, and that Veil—it's not normal. We need to move."
Sylas narrowed her eyes, a cold fire lighting in her chest. "Fine. But you're explainin' later, tinker." She grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the back exit. Her strength, boosted by the Codex's Marks, made it effortless, but her side still throbbed from the Behemoth's shard cut. She pushed through the pain. Pain was an old friend.
They slipped into the alley, Ironhaven's rusted slums looming like broken teeth. Sentinel voices echoed: "Find the Scavenger! She's got unauthorized power!"
Sylas smirked. "Unauthorized, huh? Bet they'd love to know what's really goin' on."
Toren tweaked his gadget, runes flaring. "This'll jam their trackers—for a bit. But that Veil… it's B-tier at least. Maybe higher. I've seen one like it before."
She stopped. "You've seen it? You been holdin' out on me, Toren?"
Before he could answer, a slum kid dashed past, clutching a glowing shard. Sylas tossed him a small crystal from her pouch. "Hide that, runt."
The boy grinned and vanished into the shadows. Toren watched her with something almost like wonder. "You're still you, Sylas. Even with all that power."
"Don't get sappy," she muttered, though her lips twitched.
"Sentimental spark," the Codex whispered. "Focus, or the Sentinels will clip your wings."
The ground trembled. The Veil's hum deepened. Violet mist spilled through the alleys like a tide. Screams erupted—families fleeing, children crying.
Sylas clenched her fists. Her breath caught as she remembered Elias—the one who taught her to fight, to survive. The Veil had taken him. It wasn't taking anyone else.
"We're goin' in," she said, voice low and lethal. "That thing's gonna tear up the slums if we don't."
Toren looked horrified. "Sylas, you can't. That Veil could swallow a Council cruiser. Even with your Codex... it's suicide."
"I got Emberclad. And Voidstep. I'm no weakling, not anymore. Ready or not, I ain't lettin' these kids lose their homes."
Then came a sharp voice through the chaos.
"Scavenger!"
Veyra.
The exiled Sentinel sprinted toward them, her ice-forged sword gleaming like frostlight, her cloak torn, bruises dark on her face.
"Council's sent a full squad," she gasped. "They know about your power. We need to hide."
Sylas turned to her, runes flaring in reply. "Hide? Nah, Ice Queen. I'm done runnin'." She pointed at the rift. "We're takin' that thing down. You in?"
Veyra blinked, then smirked. "You're insane. But I owe you for the Behemoth."
Toren was already adjusting his gadget. "I can stabilize the Veil—for a moment. But Sylas, how do you have the Codex? It was lost with the Old Pantheon. Ecliptor forged it himself."
Her grin faltered.
"Old Pantheon?"
The Codex went silent.
A chill settled in her gut. Something wasn't right.
"Later," she snapped. "First, we don't die."
They reached the Veil's edge. Its violet light bathed everything in dreamlike glow. The rift pulsed—and with a screech, a Shardling emerged. Huge. Molten-scaled. Eyes burning.
Sylas Voidstepped behind it in a blink, Emberclad roaring through her fists. Flames erupted. The creature screamed, slashing wildly. Veyra's blade pierced its leg. Toren's gadget fired a pulse, stunning it mid-charge.
Sylas unleashed a punch of pure flame.
The beast collapsed.
"Five Marks gained," the Codex purred. "But the Veil's heart stirs. Ready for a real fight, spark?"
The rift widened. A low roar rolled across Ironhaven.
From the mist came something worse than a Behemoth.
A Shatterkin Lord.
Its body shimmered with shifting crystal and living shadow. Its eyes were voids, ancient and endless. It gazed at Sylas.
"Another bully, huh?" she said, fire dancing in her silver hair. "Let's dance."
Veyra's expression turned grim. "That thing's sentient. It won't just fight. It talks. And it kills."
Toren's gadget sparked. "Sylas, we need to retreat—"
The Shatterkin Lord spoke.
"Codex-bearer," it rumbled. "You wield Ecliptor's legacy. Serve me, and I shall show you the truth of the Veils."
Sylas laughed, pure gangster defiance. "Serve you? I don't kneel to freaks."
Her heart thudded hard. Ecliptor? The Ecliptor? The Codex's creator?
The air thickened. The Veil wailed.
The Shatterkin Lord raised its claw—and the slums trembled. Shacks collapsed. Families screamed.
Behind her, kids huddled behind rubble.
No. Not again. She wouldn't let them burn.
"Veyra. Toren. Get them out."
Veyra hesitated. "Sylas—"
"Now!" she barked.
"Bold, spark," the Codex whispered. "Defeat the Lord, and I'll grant you a taste of true power. Fail, and the slums burn."
The Shatterkin Lord lunged.
Sylas Voidstepped, silver hair blazing like a comet.
She was fire. She was fury.
And she was ready to burn.