The Undercroft: Cinderfall City.

The air was still and the only sound that could be heard was the constant dripping of water from a leaky overheard pipe. This was where Jonah's life started, in these dark tunnels. Coming back felt like visiting a ghost.

He moved silently acting like a ghost himself. He, Seraph, and Vanessa were a small, secret team, their black tactical gear blending into the dark. managing all communications alone, ready to send backup if trouble started.

"The coordinates are just ahead," Seraph whispered, her voice a low in their earpieces. "An old, abandoned power substation. Stay at alert. This whole place feels wrong."

Jonah didn't need the warning. Every nerve was on fire. The idea of meeting his greatest enemy here, as a potential ally, made him feel very uneasy.

They reached the substation. It was a huge space, filled with the rusted skeletons of giant machines from a bygone era. A plain lightbulb hung from a long wire, making a small circle of yellow light in the middle of the dark space.

Standing in that circle of light was Dr. Aris Thorne.

He looked even worse than he had in the video. He was very thin, his clothes were now just dirty rags. His face was pale and covered in bruises, and his arm was held tightly against his body.

He was a defeated man. A proud creator whose art had been stolen, corrupted, and mass-produced by a man who only saw it as a product. Jonah didn't feel anger when he looked at Thorne. He felt a strange, hint of pity for him.

"You came," Thorne whispered, his voice sounding dry and rough. He looked both relieved and terrified at the same time. "I wasn't sure you would."

"We're not here to be friends, Thorne," Seraph said, her voice cold and hard. She and Vanessa stepped out of the dark, their weapons held in a low, ready position. "You have information. Start talking."

Thorne pulled back quickly when he saw their guns. "He's hunting me," he said, his voice shaking with fear. "Sterling. His pet Weaver has been tracking me for weeks. They want to... silence me. Tie up the loose ends."

He took a shaky breath, his hurt pride struggling with his panic. "He stole my work. My life's work. He took my theories, my data, and corrupted them. He's building an army of soulless puppets, and he's going to sell them to the highest bidder."

"We know about Silas," Jonah said, his voice quiet. "We've met her."

Thorne looked truly surprised. "You... you faced her? And you're still alive?" He let out a short laugh that sounded more like a sob. "Of course, you are. You are the original. The true artist."

He looked at Jonah, and all his old pride was gone, replaced by a strong, unwilling respect. "I was a fool," he admitted, the words seeming to cause him physical pain. "I tried to force creation. To control it. But Sterling... he doesn't care about creation at all. He only cares about control. He wants to own the very idea of power itself."

He clumsily searched his damaged jacket with his usable hand. "But his ambition is bigger than just an army of Weavers. That's just the beginning. The product he's selling isn't soldiers."

He pulled out a small data crystal. It buzzed with a faint light.

"He's building a weapon," Thorne whispered, sounding both horrified and amazed. "A true doomsday device. Something from the darkest legends of the old, corrupt Artificers. A satellite, powered by the captive, living essence of a legendary-tier beast."

He looked up at them, his face showing intense fear. " It will fire a beam of pure, negative energy. A beam that can neutralize all magical power in a hundred-mile radius. It can turn off a city. An army. An entire nation. It's a weapon that can hold the entire world hostage."

The insane ambition of it was shocking. Julian Sterling wasn't just trying to become a king. He was trying to become a god, with the power to switch the world off.

Just as Jonah reached out to take the crystal, a new sound suddenly broke the silence.

It was the faint whine of high-tech rifle scopes turning on.

Dozens of red targeting lasers cut through the darkness, all focusing on Dr. Thorne.

"It's a trap!" Seraph yelled, pushing Jonah hard behind one of the giant, rusted machines.

But Thorne didn't move. He just looked at the red dots appearing all over his chest, a strange, sad smile on his face.

"No," he said, his voice calm. "It's not my trap."

The doors to the warehouse suddenly opened. People dressed in black Syndicate suits began to drop down from the high ceilings. And walking calmly into the circle of light, was Silas. She had tracked him here.

Thorne looked at Jonah, his eyes showing a desperate request. "He cannot be allowed to win," he said.

In one desperate move, he lunged forward and forced the data crystal into Jonah's hand.

FZZT! FZZT!

Plasma fire burst out from the darkness as the Syndicate soldiers opened fire.

"Everything is on here!" Thorne gasped, his voice urgent as the first bolts of energy flew past him. "The weapon schematics! Sterling's secret financial records! Everything you need to expose them to the world!"

Jonah grabbed the crystal.

"Go!" Thorne screamed.

He didn't try to run. Instead, with the last bit of his strength, he hit his hand down on a big, red button on the rusted control panel beside him.

"A creator's final masterpiece," he whispered, "is always a grand exit."

A very loud, high-pitched noise filled the whole power station as the unstable power core deep under the floor began to overload.

A blinding, blue-white light came out from the base of the machine.

Thorne was consumed by it, his body vaporized in a silent flash of raw energy.

The entire building made a rumbling sound as a big explosion went through its base.

"This way!" Seraph commanded, pulling Jonah and Vanessa towards a collapsing tunnel in the back of the substation.

They ran, the sounds of the explosion and the shouts of the Syndicate soldiers behind them, Jonah tightly holding the small data crystal in his hand. It was Thorne's final legacy. And it was now the heaviest, most important thing in the entire world.

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