He didn’t care how the anomaly had managed to mine the impossible, magic-killing stone. Staring up at the suffocating fortress, Eila realized one terrifying truth: Kaelen was far more dangerous than he had ever calculated.

  Eila pulled his black hood lower against the ash.

  The castle was next.

  ________________________

  Eila kept his hood pulled low, the Noxara eating at his mana-circuits.

  He stared up at the massive, iron-chained gates of the castle. His chest felt hollow. The magic-killing smog was actively suffocating his circuits, and the purple scar of the Paradox Debt screamed with every heartbeat.

  "You're going to die if you walk through those gates, you know."

  Eila’s battle-hardened instincts snapped. In a fraction of a second, his hand was pulling out the sword, but the voice squeaked.

  "Whoa! I am not looking for a fight, Hero!"

  A small figure stepped out of the thick smog. She was draped in an oversized, dark maroon cloak stitched with fraying golden seams. As she tilted her head, a flash of bright, chaotic pink hair spilled out from beneath the hood.

  She pointed a small, wrapped finger at his violently purple arm.

  "I have exactly one dose of a something-something that will give you relief from the Paradox Debt," the young girl whispered, her emerald eyes shining beneath the hood.

  "If you actually want to defeat the King... follow me."

  Eila sheathed his sword with a slow, deliberate click. It was foolish to follow a stranger into the dark. But if he wanted to truly assassinate Kaelen, his fried circuits were going to need every advantage he could find. Besides, the girl had recognized him instantly, even beneath the heavy hood.

  He followed the maroon cloak into the suffocating alleyway. He kept exactly three paces behind her, his right hand resting inches from his hilt.

  "How did he do it?" Eila grunted, his voice raspy from the ash. He glared at the towering walls pressing in on them. "Noxara is supposed to be impossible to mine. But he's covered the entire kingdom in it."

  "Well, we once thought flying was impossible," the girl chirped, casually skipping over a puddle of grey sludge. "Humanity thought it was useless bedrock. But the king tried doing it, and well it worked didn't it? He turned the entire kingdom into a magic-suffocating blender!"

  She glanced over her shoulder, her pink hair catching the dim light. "And you're standing right in the blades."

  She turned left, slipping through a rotting wooden door and plunging down a narrow, pitch-black stairwell. At the bottom, a heavy, iron-fortified door blocked their path.

  "Welcome to the underground," she chirped, shoving the heavy iron open with surprising force. "To THE CINDER!"

  Eila stepped through the threshold. Instantly, the suffocating vacuum in his chest vanished. He took a sharp, ragged breath, his lungs expanding freely for the first time since entering the capital. The Noxara’s magic-nullification was barely a fraction of its strength down here, likely dampened by the sheer depth of the bedrock.

  The hideout was chaotic but brilliantly lit. Crumpled maps, architectural diagrams, and glowing magical grimoires were recklessly sprawled across the stone floor.

  Massive blueprints of the castle were pinned to the walls. Three figures stood around a central table, their heads snapping toward the entrance.

  "Riko. You took forever," a tall man, looking about twenty, spoke with a cold, calm authority. "We have one simple rule: Don't wander off without a fixed time. And you brought a stranger."

  Riko flashed a smug, entirely unbothered grin. She grabbed the collar of her heavy maroon cloak and whipped it off, tossing it onto a pile of grimoires.

  Beneath the grim cloak, she was wearing a bright pink dress covered in fuzzy frills. The sheer absurdity of it in the middle of a warzone made Eila blink.

  "This," Riko announced, throwing both her hands toward the scarred, paranoid swordsman standing in the shadows like she was presenting a prize catch. "Is Eila! The Fallen Hero!"

  The tall man froze. The calm, calculating authority entirely vanished from his face as he stared at the scarred swordsman standing in his hideout. He couldn't believe Riko had actually dragged the Fallen Hero of Aethelgard into their sanctuary.

  "Oh, yeah? So this is the bastard?" a volatile voice spat from the back of the room.

  A boy, no older than fifteen, lunged. He cleared the table in a blind rage, throwing himself at Eila with wild, desperate fists.

  Eila didn't move. He saw the sheer, unadulterated grief burning in the kid’s eyes.

  Crack. His fist connected hard with Eila’s jaw. Eila’s head snapped to the side, but he didn't even flinch. He just stood there, taking the punishment.

  "K-KAITO!" Riko yelped, her smugness vanishing as she scrambled to pull him back.

  "YOU!" Kaito screamed, tearing out of Riko's grip and swinging again. "Remember Oakhaven?! My shop was reduced to ash! It was all we had!"

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  Eila slowly turned his head back, tasting copper. He looked away, his eyes hollow. "I was foolish. I carry that regret every single day."

  "Regret?!" Kaito roared, throwing a brutal hook aimed squarely at Eila’s temple. "Regret isn't going to fix anything!"

  Smack.

  Eila caught the punch.

  He didn't struggle. He simply stopped Kaito’s fist inches from his face, his grip like a steel vise. Eila slowly looked back at the boy. The heavy, apathetic exhaustion in Eila's eyes was suddenly replaced by a terrifying, dead-cold stare.

  "You lost a shop," Eila rasped, his voice dropping to a chilling whisper that silenced the entire room. "Where was this righteous anger when Emilia was on the chopping block? Did you bare your fangs at the King then? Or do you only find your courage when you're swinging at a broken man?"

  "Break it up, you two." The tall man stepped forward, his voice cutting through the tension.

  Eila opened his grip. Kaito snatched his hand back instantly, his chest heaving as he massaged his bruised knuckles, glaring daggers at the scarred swordsman.

  "Hero of Aethelgard," the tall man said, recovering his calm demeanor. "You brought ruin to this kingdom once before. What is your motive for coming here now?"

  Eila didn't answer. He just looked sideways at Riko.

  "Ta-da!" Riko chirped, hopping up onto a wooden chair so she was at eye level with them. "I convinced him to come with me! I figured if we're actually going through with the plan, our chances of success skyrocket if we have a terrifying, overpowered and scary looking fallen hero coming back for revenge!”

  Before Kian could scold her for leaking their strategy, she clapped her hands together.

  "Introduction time!" she announced, clapping her hands. "I'm Riko! The tall, grumpy guy is Kian, our leader. The one you just traumatized is Kaito, our brawler..." She pointed to a nervous-looking boy in the corner with rough blonde hair and thick glasses, who gave a timid wave. "And this is Lucio, our organizer."

  The entire room fell silent. They all stared at Eila expectantly.

  Eila shifted his weight, suddenly feeling more suffocated by the social interaction than he had by the Noxara smog.

  "I... well," Eila muttered, staring at the floor. "I'm Eila. The former... whatever." He cleared his throat, desperately trying to change the subject. He looked back up at Kian. "What plan is she talking about? And why are you throwing your lives away trying to take down Kaelen?"

  "Because he isn't a King, Hero." Kian picked up a heavy parchment map from the floor, his expression darkening. "We've realized that whatever is sitting on that throne... isn't human."

  "Yeah, and I know he's the one who killed my master, Grand Mage Orlon," Riko added, her chaotic energy vanishing as her eyes dropped to the floor. "When I investigated the Ivory Tower, the residual mana felt exactly like our beloved King's."

  "He's turned the kingdom into a sterile machine," Lucio spoke up, his timid voice barely a whisper. "It might seem refreshing to make all mages equal by nullifying our magic... but the weaker ones are physically dying because of this Noxara smog."

  Kian crossed his arms, staring Eila down. "Why do you want to take down Kaelen, Hero?" he asked, a sharp hint of suspicion creeping into his voice.

  Eila sighed, the heavy weight of exhaustion settling over him. The memory of Imara choking on the ground still sent a violent shudder down his spine.

  "He came to my home. He attacked me," Eila rasped. "I survived... but he sent an exploding sphere to my house. I wasn't hurt, but if my wife had been caught in it, she would be ash."

  Eila felt a sudden, uncharacteristic heat rise in his cheeks at calling Imara his "wife." He quickly looked at the ground, hoping the shadows hid his face. But when he glanced up, he caught Riko leaning on the table, giving him the most obnoxious, knowing smirk imaginable.

  Kian, however, didn't smile. He uncrossed his arms, his eyes widening slightly. "Wait. You managed to counter an Orbash?"

  "Orbash?" Eila repeated.

  "The sphere," Kian said, his voice dropping in disbelief. "How did you crawl out of that alive?"

  "I... I just cast a basic shield?" Eila muttered, genuinely confused by their shock. A shield against exploding spheres was supposed to be a reflex.

  Kian stared at him like he was insane, but Riko didn't give them time to dwell on it.

  "Anyway, I told him about the pill! If anyone can survive the dosage, he can!" Riko announced. She jumped over the central table, popping open a small, lead-lined box. She retrieved a single, faintly glowing blue pill and dropped it into Eila’s palm.

  "It will temporarily numb your Paradox Debt," Riko explained, puffing her chest out with a hint of pride. "Your mana circuits will unlock, and your old Hero of Aethelgard power will return for exactly three minutes. Master Orlon drafted the alchemy, but I perfected it!" She grinned smugly, her eyes closed in an obnoxious expression.

  Then, her eyes snapped open. The emerald irises were wide and dead serious.

  "A warning, Hero. Do not incur any more Paradox Debt while under the effect of this pill. If you break that rule, the Debt will rebound and violently eat whatever is left of your body."

  Eila closed his fist over the pill. "Understood. So, what's the actual infiltration plan?"

  Kian stepped up to the blueprint. "We found a blind spot near the rear service gates. The only problem is that it’s heavily fortified by the Vanguard. That is where you come in. You walk up to the main iron gates at the front of the castle and unleash hell. You draw the entire Vanguard’s attention, leaving the rear exposed for us."

  "And once you're inside?" Eila asked, glancing at the timid rebels. "What can you possibly do against Kaelen's inner circle?"

  "We capture one of his Overseers," Kaito growled, stepping out of the shadows. "We drag a LOGIC mage out of that sterile dump and force their ass to tell us how to shatter the Noxara. Then, we liberate the mana of this kingdom."

  Eila looked at the map. It was a suicidal, desperate, but brilliantly calculated heist. "Well, who here can actually wield LOGIC magic to counter them? And if you have that power, why didn’t you infiltrate his ranks when Kaelen was recruiting?"

  Riko leaned forward, her chaotic energy gone. "I can. And I missed my chance because I was locked away, finishing this pill. It was the last project Master Orlon ever started. I had to complete it for him."

  Kian placed his hands flat on the table, his usual cold calmness giving way to a burning, desperate fire.

  "Is everyone ready?" Kian’s voice rose into a fierce, commanding roar. "Tonight, we liberate the mana!"

  "Tonight!" the Cinders roared back.

  ______________________________

  High above the ash-choked streets, Kaelen sat perfectly still on his pristine throne. He gazed out the massive glass window, watching the dull, pale-grey Noxara smog blanket his perfect city.

  "M-My Liege..." Zaban stepped forward, bowing deeply. "There is movement in the lower districts..."

  Kaelen raised his hand, letting the cold, sterile light from the window slip through his impeccably gloved fingers. His silver eyes remained entirely devoid of emotion.

  "Let them come, Zaban," Kaelen murmured softly. "Perfection is only truly satisfying when the foolish attempt to break it."