[Day 3 of the Invasion – Post-Collapse]

[Location: The Dwarven Kingdom – The Magma Forge]

Time goes back to right before Damien and Isabelle entered the abyss

CRASH.

The air in the Great Forge split open. A jagged red wormhole spat out six figures onto the cooling grate of the main assembly line.

They hit the metal hard.

"Medical!" Prince Hephaestus shouted, dropping a half-finished sword and sprinting from his workbench.

"Get the healers! Now!"

The scene was a massacre.

Lukas was unconscious, his hands, his most vital tools, crushed into unrecognisable pulp.

Elena was curled in a ball, her eyes wide and unseeing, muttering a single word over and over.

"Gone... gone... gone..."

Alaric was on his knees, dry-heaving soot and blood.

But the loudest sound came from his right.

"GRAAAH!"

Leona stood up and slammed her Void Gauntlet into a stack of steel ingots.

CLANG.

The metal crumpled like paper.

"I FAILED!" Leona screamed, tearing her mask off and throwing it into the lava river below.

Her face was a mask of tears and snot. "I am the young master's protector! My job is to die first! Why did he kick me out?! Why am I here?!"

She punched a support pillar. The entire forge shook.

"Leona, stop!" Lyra shouted, trying to grab her arm, but the Beast Queen shook her off with a growl.

"Don't touch me! He's dead! The Boss is dead because I was too weak to hold the line!"

King Durin and the Dwarven guards rushed in, weapons drawn, unsure if they needed to fight the grieving beastkin.

"Silence."

The word was spoken softly, yet it cut through the noise of the forge like a scalpel.

Alfred stood in the center of the chaos. He adjusted his glasses, which were slightly askew. He brushed a speck of ash from his suit.

He didn't look at Leona, instead closed his eyes and placed a hand over his heart.

Over the past 16 years, although he might have seemed invisible, but never once had he stopped training.

Unfortunately, due to a lack of talent, he was stuck at 7th-order peak, unable to break through the eighth

However, even at that, he had become especially skilled in a vast number of areas, one of which was his soul

Thinking of this, he felt the connection burned into his very soul. The Contract.

He focused. He pushed past the grief, past the panic, past the overwhelming noise of the world.

He searched for the golden thread that bound his existence to his Master.

It was faint. It was stretched thin, spanning across dimensions, distorted by the static of the Abyss.

But it wasn't broken.

THUMP.

A single, weak pulse echoed in Alfred's chest.

Alfred opened his eyes. A cold, terrifying calm settled over his features.

"Leona," Alfred said.

Leona froze, her fist raised to smash another machine. She looked at the Butler.

"The contract," Alfred stated, tapping his chest. "It persists."

"The connection between the young lord and us still remains, although due to the barriers of the abyss you might not feel it, but it is indeed there"

The room went dead silent.

"He is not dead," Alfred announced, checking his pocket watch. "The Young Master has simply... relocated."

Hearing this, Elena stopped rocking. Alaric looked up. Leona lowered her fist.

"Alive?" Leona whispered, her voice cracking.

"Alive," Alfred confirmed. "And if he is alive, then he is fighting. And if he is fighting..."

Alfred looked at the weeping students.

"...then we do not have time to cry. We have to rescue him."

….......…

[Location: The Central Continent – The Golden Coin Headquarters]

Three thousand miles away, in the heart of the Empire, panic was setting in.

Barnaby, the Treasurer of the Golden Coin, was pacing around his office. He was sweating so much his silk shirt was stained.

Outside his window, Imperial Knights were marching down the street.

"Damn bastards! They're seizing assets," Barnaby hissed, peeking through the blinds.

"The Emperor declared Martial Law. He's freezing all accounts linked to the Academy. He's coming for our gold, Cipher! He knows!"

Cipher, the Intelligence Head, sat in the corner. He was burning documents in a metal bin.

"Calm down, fat man," Cipher said, though his hands were shaking slightly.

"Zero is dead. The connection is severed. We just need to take what we can and run."

"Run where?!" Barnaby shrieked. "The borders are closed! We're trapped!"

BZZZT.

The communication crystal on Barnaby's desk lit up. It was a black crystal, one that only rang for Priority Zero calls.

Barnaby froze. He looked at Cipher.

"Answer it," Cipher ordered, drawing a dagger.

Barnaby trembled. He touched the crystal.

"H-Hello?"

"Barnaby."

It was Alfred's voice. Calm. Professional.

"A-Alfred!" Barnaby grabbed the crystal.

"Tell me it's not true! Tell me the Boss isn't dead! The news showed the crater... the Emperor is seizing everything!"

"The Boss is deep undercover," Alfred lied smoothly. Or perhaps it wasn't a lie. To Alfred, the Abyss was just another field assignment.

"He is currently unavailable to manage the accounts."

"Unavailable?!" Barnaby shouted. "The Imperial Guards are knocking down doors!"

"Listen to me closely," Alfred commanded. "Initiate Protocol Omega."

Barnaby stopped breathing. Protocol Omega was the scorched-earth policy.

"But..." Barnaby stammered. "That means..."

"Liquidation," Alfred said coldly.

"Move all liquid assets to the offshore accounts in the Dwarven Vaults and the Dragon Empire and Imperial Empire shell companies. Empty the physical vaults in the Capital. If the Emperor breaks into our bank, I want him to find nothing but dust."

"And the network?" Cipher asked, leaning into the crystal.

"Dissolve it," Alfred ordered. "The 'Golden Coin' ceases to exist as of this moment. We are no longer a merchant guild. We are back to the Black Thread."

Alfred's voice dropped an octave.

"Go dark. Build the supply lines. Stockpile weapons, mana crystals, and food. When the Young Master returns, he will need an army. And armies are expensive."

Barnaby looked at the window. He saw the knights getting closer to their building.

He looked at his ledger. He looked at the Empire that was trying to take his money.

Fear vanished. Replaced by the greed that Zero had cultivated in him.

"Understood," Barnaby grinned, a manic glint in his eye.

"If Aurelius wants my gold, he'll have to pry it from my cold, dead hands."

He smashed the crystal on the floor.

"Cipher!" Barnaby roared, grabbing a magical bag.

"Start packing! We're robbing the Empire blind before we leave!"

….......…

[Location: The Dwarven Forge]

Back in the forge, the mood had shifted.

The grief was gone. Replaced by a cold, hard resolve.

Hephaestus was already casting healing magic on Lukas's hands. Alaric was cleaning his sword. Elena was wiping her face, her expression blank but focused.

Alfred stood by the lava river, watching them.

"The board is reset," Alfred whispered to himself.

He looked at his hand. He focused on the connection in his soul. It was faint, like a candle in a hurricane, but it was there.

"Survive, Young Master," Alfred murmured. "We will keep the lights on until you get home."

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