The darkness inside the shack didn't just break.
It was strangled.
In the ***Ashen Grave***, darkness was a physical substance. It was a cold, oily veil that clung to the skin like a shroud.
But today, even that darkness was being pushed aside.
A golden, sickly radiance began to bleed through the cracks of the door. It was the aura of a ***Rank 4 Vessel***.
**Grog** didn't just walk into the room. He displaced it.
Before his boot even touched the dirt floor, the air inside changed.
It became dense. Saturated with unrefined energy.
Breathing it felt like inhaling liquid lead.
The rusted walls of the shack groaned. The metal sheets buckled inward, as if the structure itself were trying to shrink away from the intruder.
**Khai** lay paralyzed on his mat.
To his eyes, **Grog** wasn't a man. He was a walking calamity.
Every step **Grog** took felt like a mountain being dropped onto **Khai's** hollow chest.
His bedsores, raw and weeping, were ground deeper into the shredded industrial tarp.
The pain was no longer a sharp sting. It was a dull, rhythmic vibration that pulsed in time with **Grog's** footsteps.
**[VITALITY: 1.40%]**
**[STATUS: CRITICAL AURA-PRESSURE / PULMONARY STRAIN]**
**[ENVIRONMENTAL LOG: AMBIENT ENERGY DEPLETED BY EXTERNAL VESSEL]**
The ***System's*** blue text flickered frantically.
Its cold, mechanical light was the only thing competing with the greasy yellow glow from **Grog's** skin.
**Khai's** lungs, already choked by the "**Marrow-Dust**," felt like they were collapsing under an invisible heel.
He tried to draw a breath. The air was too thick.
It tasted of ozone. Stale grain-spirit. The metallic tang of dried blood.
***
**Tian** stood his ground.
His small, soot-stained frame was a pathetic sight.
Compared to the mountain of meat standing before him, he looked like a shadow.
His knees were knocking together. **Khai** could hear the sound over the wind howling through the cracks.
Yet, **Tian's** feet remained rooted to the dirt floor.
He didn't look like a prince. He didn't even look like a fighter.
He looked like a stray dog guarding a bone.
Eyes wide. Reflecting the sickly yellow light.
"Step... step back," **Tian** croaked.
His hand gripped the sharpened **scrap metal** at his belt.
It was a pathetic weapon. A piece of jagged iron salvaged from a broken refinery.
He didn't draw it.
Even in his terror, the sixteen-year-old knew the **Law**.
To draw a weapon on a **Sector Guard** was an invitation for an immediate execution. For everyone.
**Grog** stopped.
He looked down at **Tian**. His yellowed eyes were filled with a lazy, predatory amusement.
In the ***High Heavens***, a man like this would be a common slave. A stable-hand.
But here, in the gutter of ***Universe 1***, **Grog** was a **God**.
"You smell that, pup?" **Grog** rumbled.
His voice was a low-frequency vibration. It made the dust on the floor dance in complex patterns.
"That's the smell of '**Clean Energy**'. It's coming from your pores."
**Grog** leaned in closer.
"You've been skimming, haven't you? Finding pockets of ***Aether-crystals*** in the ***Deep Veins***. Tucking them under your tongue."
"I don't... I don't know what you're talking about," **Tian** lied.
His voice lacked royal poise. But it held a stubborn, desperate grit.
**Grog's** hand shot out.
It was a movement too fast for a man of his size. A blur of violence that shattered the air.
He didn't strike **Tian**.
He grabbed the front of the boy's soot-caked tunic and lifted him.
**Tian's** feet dangled a foot off the ground.
He kicked out. His boots struck **Grog's** chest like pebbles hitting a stone wall.
As he struggled, the **copper coin** slipped out.
The '**Sun-Gatherer's**' relic swung on its frayed industrial cord.
**Grog's** eyes locked onto it.
The amusement vanished. Greed took its place.
"A **Sun-Gatherer's** token," **Grog** hissed.
His breath hit **Tian's** face like a wave of toxic gas.
"You know the **Law**, boy? Hope is a crime. Light is a contraband."
**Grog's** massive thumb pressed against the coin.
The cord snapped with a sharp *crack*.
"This coin is worth a year's labor in the '**Null-Zones**'. Or a bounty of **5,000 Rust-Credits** if I turn in your head."
***
**Khai** watched from the floor.
Vision blurring. Tears of frustration welling in his eyes.
His twenty-three-year-old mind was a storm of sapphire calculations.
He was a **Li**. Firstborn of a **Sovereign**.
He knew exactly where **Grog's** energy was leaking.
He saw the way **Grog's** weight shifted.
He saw the exposed artery in the giant's neck, pulsing with stolen power.
If he had even a fraction of a percent of ***Sync***...
If the ***Null-Link*** would just give him a single drop of ***Aether***...
He could have turned the tarp into a ***molecular blade***.
He could have ended this in a heartbeat.
But his body was a cage. Brittle calcium. Shriveled muscle.
He was a prince of ghosts. Watching his heart be torn out.
"Let him... go..." **Khai** managed to rasp.
The effort brought dark blood to his lips.
Each word felt like his throat was being lined with hot, jagged coals.
**Grog** turned his head. He looked at the kankal (skeleton) on the mat.
"Oh, it speaks," **Grog** sneered.
He dropped **Tian**.
The boy hit the floor with a sickening *thud*. The shack shook.
**Grog** walked toward **Khai**.
His heavy boots splashed through the spilled **Nutrient Paste**.
Sixty hours of **Tian's** life. Now mud in the soot.
**Grog** raised his boot.
He held it directly over **Khai's** sunken chest.
"Why do you do it, pup?" **Grog** asked **Tian**.
"Why do you kill yourself to feed this? Look at it. It's a parasite. A '**Null**'."
**Grog's** shadow engulfed **Khai** completely.
"Recycling him would be an act of mercy for both of you."
"Don't touch him!" **Tian** screamed.
He didn't run. He lunged.
**Tian** threw himself at **Grog's** leg.
He wrapped his thin, scarred arms around the giant's calf.
He bit down.
Not with the skill of a fighter. With the feral desperation of a brother.
**Grog** didn't flinch.
He looked down at the boy with a disgusted scowl.
"**Loyalty**," **Grog** spat. "The most expensive emotion in the **Grave**."
**Grog** kicked out.
**Tian** was sent flying across the room.
His body slammed into a stack of rusted mining canisters.
The sound of his ribs snapping was a dull, wet *crunch*.
It echoed in **Khai's** very soul.
***
**Tian** lay in the soot. Gasping for air.
One lung was likely punctured.
Blood, dark and thick with **Marrow-Dust**, leaked from his mouth.
It pooled in the dirt.
Yet, he started to crawl.
He ignored the agony in his chest.
He ignored the grey haze fading his vision.
He crawled back toward the mat.
Fingers digging into the dirt. Leaving long, dark furrows.
**Grog** watched him. A slow, cruel smile spread across his face.
He enjoyed the "**Process**."
He enjoyed watching hope die in the gutter.
"I have a quota to fill," **Grog** said.
"The ***Association*** needs '**Vessel-Testers**' for the ***Deep Veins***."
His voice drips with malice.
"The layers where radiation turns your blood into lead. Nobody survives more than a week."
**Grog** looked at the **copper coin**. Then at **Khai**. Then back at **Tian**.
"Here is the deal, **Sun-Gatherer**."
"You come with me. You sign the '**Blood-Contract**' for the ***Deep Veins***."
"In exchange, I leave this carcass alone."
**Grog** tossed the coin in the air and caught it.
"I'll even drop a week's supply of **Grade-B Nutrient Paste**. The kind with actual protein."
**Khai's** heart hammered like a bird in a cage.
*No. **Tian**, don't. Let me die. I am already dead.*
"One week... of **Grade-B**?" **Tian** gasped.
He stopped his crawl inches from **Khai's** hand.
"And protection," **Grog** added.
"No other guard touches this shack for a month. He gets to rot in peace."
**Tian** looked at **Khai**.
In that moment, he wasn't a sixteen-year-old miner.
He looked ancient.
He looked like the true heir of the **Li Clan**. Noble. Unyielding.
Terrifyingly selfless.
"**Tian**... no..." **Khai's** voice was a broken whisper. A plea for his own death.
**Tian** reached out. He touched **Khai's** withered hand.
His fingers were cold. Caked in blood and soot.
But his grip was firm.
"It's okay, brother," **Tian** whispered.
A small, tragic smile broke through the mask of dust.
"You always said... the sun would come back."
**Tian's** eyes burned with a final promise.
"I'm just going... to go find it for us."
**Tian** stood up. He leaned heavily against the rusted wall.
He looked at **Grog**.
"I sign. But you give him the paste now. I want to see him eat it."
**Grog** laughed. A sound like grinding stones.
He reached into a pouch. He tossed a silver-sealed tube onto **Khai's** mat.
**Grade-B**. Food meant for overseers.
**Tian** didn't wait.
He walked toward **Grog**. Posture straight. Despite the broken ribs.
He didn't look back.
He knew if he did, he would break.
As **Grog's** massive hand clamped onto **Tian's** neck, dragging him out...
The shack felt suddenly, terrifyingly empty.
The door screeched shut. Echoing like a tomb closing.
**Khai** lay in the dark.
The silver tube of paste rested against his cheek.
It felt like a hot coal. It felt like his brother's flesh and blood.
**[VITALITY: 1.34%]**
**[SYNC STATUS: 0.00%]**
**[ANOMALY DETECTED: HEART RATE EXCEEDS BIOLOGICAL LIMITS]**
**[EMOTIONAL TURBULENCE: CRITICAL]**
**Khai** closed his eyes.
For the first time in seven years, he didn't pray to the ancestors.
He didn't pray for a miracle.
He prayed for the power to burn this entire universe.
Until there was nothing left but ash and silence.
**[TIME TO TOTAL COLLAPSE: 162 HOURS]**