The forest was gone.

What had once been a clearing was now a scar, an immense crater ringed by molten glass. The trees blasted into blackened stumps, the soil scorched down to smoking ash. Aether still shimmered in the air, drifting motes spiraling lazily like dying embers. At the center of it all stood Thorne, eyes blazing, body trembling with the remnants of unleashed power.

Ahead of him, the troll still stood.

Half its body had been annihilated, its ribs bare, its core pulsing like a dying star in the ruin of its chest. Thorne streaked forward, raw aether streaming behind him, hands curled into a maelstrom. This was it, the strike that would end it.

But even as he closed the distance, the flesh bubbled, crawling back over bone. Ligaments wriggled, skin sealed, layer after layer piling over the glowing furnace within. By the time Thorne's blade of seething aether descended, the core had vanished behind walls of newly-forged hide.

He screamed, fury and frustration pouring from his lungs as he unleashed the strike anyway. The searing line carved across the troll's torso, tearing away chunks of meat and smoke, but the beast's other hand was already arcing forward.

The blow hit like a mountain.

Thorne was ripped from his stance, the impact rattling his bones. He flew across the crater, slammed into fractured stone, and skidded to a halt in a spray of blood and grit. His body ached, his vision swam, every breath sharp with broken edges. He spat red into the dirt, pushing up on trembling arms.

"Damn you!" His voice cracked, raw with rage. "Die already!"

The troll's shadow loomed over him, its body already repairing the wounds he'd just inflicted, every second erasing his progress. Thorne's knuckles whitened into a fist, his chest heaving. He knew it now, with a certainty that made his blood run cold.

He couldn't kill this thing with brute force. Not with beams, not with explosions, not with raw destruction. Its regeneration was too strong.

The only way forward was Marian's technique.

Aether Flow Phasing.

He swallowed, the taste of blood bitter on his tongue, eyes blazing against the smoke. It was impossibly hard, more complex than anything he had ever tried. But there was no other choice. Either he mastered it here, in the heart of this crater…

Or he died.

He called to the ambient aether again, forcing it into shape, but this time he tried to weave it thinner, half-there, half-not, the way Marian had drilled into him. A blade of raw aether shimmered between his hands, translucent, the edge flickering like heat-haze. He drove it at the troll's hide.

The strike slipped through the thick skin without resistance, just as it was meant to, then sputtered, half unraveling before he could make it bite. Instead of tearing open the muscle beneath, it scored only a shallow groove. The troll roared, more annoyed than hurt.

Thorne cursed under his breath, staggering back as the monster's fist slammed down and threw dirt and stone into the air. He tried again, weaving another construct, this one a lattice meant to cage the troll's arm from the inside. He mistimed the phasing, solidified too early and the structure shattered against its regenerating flesh, exploding into harmless sparks of aether.

"Come on, damn it," he growled, spitting blood. His vision blurred, ribs screaming from the last blow, but he forced himself upright.

The troll lunged again, hide steaming from half-healed wounds, its massive hand tearing up chunks of stone as it swung. Thorne blurred sideways, Deadzone Reflex kicking in, the world stuttering just enough for him to slip past the crushing blow. His chest still screamed from the earlier hit, every movement tugging at battered ribs.

He pulled aether into another construct, thin, jagged, half-phased. It flickered like broken glass as he thrust it forward. For a split second it bit true, sinking into the troll's shoulder where no normal blade could reach. But before he could lock it solid, the lattice collapsed in his grip, the weapon unraveling into sparks. The troll's roar of pain faded to fury as its arm lashed back, claws grazing Thorne's side and leaving three shallow but burning cuts.

Blood soaked his shirt. His knees buckled for a heartbeat.

"Fine," he snarled, sucking in a ragged breath. "We'll do it my way."

He slammed both palms into the ground. Raw aether surged up, liquid and unstable, flowing like molten glass. It coiled around the troll's legs, tightening in a spiral, then erupted in an explosion that blasted the beast backward. Its chest burst open, ribs glowing white with exposed marrow.

Thorne staggered upright, hair plastered to his forehead, eyes blazing. He layered another construct over the raw chaos, an unstable phasing blade driven straight into the fresh cavity. The weapon slipped through skin like smoke, but when he tried to force it solid, it only half-caught, gouging jagged lines across the exposed bone before splintering apart.

The troll shrieked, wrenching free, chunks of itself peeling away. And still its body writhed, sealing, recovering.

Thorne's breath rasped, but his grin returned, wild, bloody, unhinged. It hurts you. Even like this, it hurts you.

He chained the next sequence together in desperation. Invisible steps burst beneath his boots as he vaulted high, raw aether bursting from his heels. At the peak he hurled a sphere of semi-solid energy down, detonating against the troll's back. The monster stumbled forward, and Thorne was already diving after, a phasing spear in hand.

This time it sank deep, right through hide and meat. He clenched his jaw, forcing the weapon to stay, but it sputtered, half-dissolving, the point cutting only shallowly into the creature's spine before fading. The troll howled and thrashed, one arm flailing wildly, catching Thorne mid-air.

The world spun, and then... Impact. He hit the crater wall hard, his back ablaze with agony, blood filling his mouth.

He coughed and spat, staggered back to his feet, eyes locked on the regenerating monstrosity dragging itself upright once more. His chest heaved, but his gaze burned like twin suns.

"Alright," Thorne rasped. "You want stubborn?" He raised his hands, calling to the aether once more, raw and phased in equal measure. "So am I."

The troll bellowed, chest already knitting together again, the faint glow of its core fading back behind slabs of regenerated flesh.

Thorne's knees threatened to buckle, but he forced his lungs to steady, forced his mind to focus. Marian's voice echoed in the back of his skull like a curse. Not one strike. A sequence. Layer upon layer. Think beyond a blade, boy.

The troll charged.

Thorne raised his hand, and the ambient aether answered, flooding into shape. A thin pane shimmered into existence, half there, half not, right across the troll's path. The beast plowed through it, but in that instant Thorne solidified the edges. The phase-wall sheared through hide and shoulder, carving deep into the joint. The limb sagged, half-dead.

He didn't stop.

Another construct flared, a cage snapping into existence around the troll's other arm. It phased in crooked, unstable, but he caught the timing, solidified only the binding rings. The troll wrenched against it, bellowing, momentum stalled.

Thorne was already moving, climbing invisible steps of aether, each one flaring underfoot. His side screamed, his ribs ached, but his eyes blazed with purpose.

He hurled a spear downward, phased, invisible until it struck. It slid into the troll's collar, twisted, then locked solid for just an instant before bursting apart. The monster reeled, the opening widening across its chest.

"Now," Thorne whispered, though his throat was raw.

He summoned again, but not one construct, three at once. Aether bent around his arms like a storm, his whole body straining under the control. First, a phased wedge rammed into the troll's sternum, peeling away what flesh had just closed. Second, a lattice drove in from the side, slicing ribs like parchment. Third, a blade formed in his grip, flickering, unstable, but sharp as intent.

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The troll shrieked, its chest a ruin, the glow of its core now exposed again, pulsing bright in the dark.

Thorne dove.

He drove the blade straight through, phasing it past the last layers of flesh, then, with a roar that tore his throat raw, he solidified everything. The wedge, the lattice, the blade, all locking at once, caging the glowing furnace inside.

For a heartbeat, the troll froze. Its regeneration stuttered, halted, the light in its veins flickering wildly.

Then the core shattered.

The detonation rocked the crater, a surge of aether blasting outward as the beast gave one last, guttural scream. Its massive frame collapsed, crumbling into charred flesh and cracked bone, before finally disintegrating into steaming ruin.

Thorne fell to his knees, chest heaving, every muscle screaming. Blood dripped from his chin, his cloak torn, his body bruised and battered beyond sense. And yet he was alive.

The glow of his eyes dimmed to their usual burn. He dragged in a long, ragged breath and let himself collapse backward, staring up at the dark canopy above.

"…Told you," he rasped to no one, lips quirking in a bloody grin. "I'm just as stubborn."

For a long moment, all was still. The troll's ruin steamed in the crater, its massive bulk slumped in defeat.

Then Thorne felt it.

The air shifted, the dead beast's aether unraveling, spilling back into the world like smoke returning to the sky. Instinct flared in him, sharp and primal. Without thinking, he latched onto it.

The flood hit him like lightning.

Raw, unbound power poured into his veins, filling every hollow, feeding every wound. His eclipsed core swelled, its dark furnace drinking deep, hungrier than he'd ever felt it. He clenched his jaw, holding on as the torrent roared through him, too much and not enough all at once.

He drank. And drank. Until there was nothing left.

Thorne exhaled, ragged, shoulders shaking. His glow dimmed, but deep inside his chest the core pulsed stronger, steadier, hungrier.

A ripple of text burned across his vision:

Trait Evolution Achieved! Veilbreaker → Veilbreaker (Ascended)

New Ability Unlocked: Arcane Harvest

You may weaken or unravel magical shields, constructs, and spells by siphoning their aether directly. Effectiveness scales with Spirit and Willpower.

Thorne's chest rose and fell in uneven rhythm, sweat cooling against his skin. His lips curved despite the ache in his body.

"Now that's useful," he murmured.

Thorne leaned back on his hands, staring up at the canopy of smoke-stained branches. His lungs still burned, but the world felt sharper, lighter, his veins thrumming with the aftermath of stolen power.

Then the familiar cascade of light drifted into view:

Skill Level Up: Deadzone Reflex 9 → 10 Skill Level Up: Aetheric Skin 30 → 33 Skill Level Up: Primal Aether Manipulation 43 → 44 Skill Level Up: Aether Surge 32 → 33 Skill Level Up: Aether Barrage 8 → 9

The glow faded, leaving only the night sounds creeping back into the crater.

Thorne let out a rough laugh that hurt his ribs. Progress. Even if the fight had nearly killed him, even if his body screamed at him to collapse, the climb upward hadn't stopped.

"Good," he muttered, brushing blood from his chin. "I'll take it."

Thorne pushed himself upright, every muscle stiff, every bruise singing. His cloak was shredded, his ribs ached with every breath, but his eyes fixed on the smoldering ruin of the troll.

No sense wasting it.

He drew one of his nullite daggers and crouched beside the carcass. Even in death the flesh twitched, regeneration still struggling blindly, trying to stitch torn meat back together. It made cutting messy. Thick strands of sinew tugged at his blade, closing around it, as though the corpse itself wanted to keep him out.

"Persistent bastard," Thorne muttered.

His own Lunar Regeneration whispered in his blood, closing shallow cuts and bruises as fast as the troll's body tried to seal itself. Two forces, predator and prey, mirroring each other.

He carved deeper, pushing past bubbling tissue until he felt it, the faint pulse, weaker now, but still there. The troll's aether core.

Even emptied, the thing was valuable. Alchemists would pay obscene coin for the crystallized husk, enchanters more still. With a grunt, he wedged his dagger into the rib cage, forcing it wider, and cut free the glowing shard. It came loose with a wet snap, steaming faintly in the night air.

Thorne held it up, turning it in his palm. Even hollow, it shimmered with the residue of what it once contained. He slipped it into his pouch.

The rest would take longer. He went back in, sawing methodically through hide and muscle. He carved away strips of its hide, thick and coarse, perfect for armor if treated right. He dug free the massive fangs, still sharp enough to bite through steel. Even the ichor, bottled quickly, might serve as a reagent in poisons.

And the flesh…

He hesitated, then cut away a slab. Heavy, dark, the meat almost pulsed as though it still remembered life. Dangerous, probably toxic, but the Primordial Forest didn't forgive waste. Someone in Evermist would find a use for it.

By the time he straightened, his pouch sagged with loot, and the troll's corpse was a gutted shell, still twitching in grotesque, futile spasms.

Thorne wiped the blade clean on its cooling hide, exhaling slowly.

"Even dead, you don't quit." He smirked faintly. "I can respect that."

Thorne tightened the strap of his pouch and rose, stretching his aching shoulders. His glow had dimmed, but his senses hadn't dulled. That nagging awareness he'd felt mid-battle, just outside his Veil Sense's reach, still lingered. Watching.

He turned his head toward the tree line.

"You can come out now," he called, voice flat but carrying. "I know you've been there since halfway through."

For a heartbeat, only silence answered. Then the shadows shifted.

Something detached itself from the black, peeling away from the trunk of a half-burnt tree that had survived the explosion. At first it was nothing but a smear of deeper dark, but as it stepped into the moonlight, shape took form.

Broad-shouldered. Cloaked. The face hidden by a hood that seemed more shadow than cloth. The faint gleam of eyes, sharp and knowing.

Thorne's stomach sank. He knew that presence.

The same man who had stood in the archway while he fumbled through Lux for the first time, watching with unnerving calm. The same voice that had spoken his name, though Thorne had never offered it.

Now, in the ruined clearing, with troll blood still steaming on his blade, Thorne was certain. The bastard had known from the beginning. Known what he was. Elderborn.

He flared his Veil Sense, hunting for the pulse of a core, for the anchored weight of a living body. Nothing. Empty. But it didn't feel like when someone cloaked their essence behind enchanted trinkets, the way he masked his own with the pendant. No, this was different.

It was absence.

The more he reached, the more it felt as though the man wasn't truly there at all. As though his body sat elsewhere, and only a shadow of him, a splinter, had crossed the distance to stand in front of Thorne.

The realization made his skin crawl.

"You're not really here," Thorne said, voice low, eyes narrowing.

The figure tilted his head slightly, a slow gesture, deliberate. The faint gleam of eyes caught the moonlight, then dimmed again as though they had never been.

Thorne's grip tightened on Ashthorn. He hated this, being observed, measured, toyed with. But now, with the dead troll at his feet, the forest in ruin, and blood drying on his lips, there was no denying it.

Whoever this man was… he had been watching for far longer than Thorne had realized.

The hooded man stepped closer, stopping just beyond the edge of the ruined crater. His voice, when it came, was warm, almost conversational, like two acquaintances meeting by chance in the market.

"I wanted to see for myself," he said, hands tucked loosely into his cloak. "How far along you've come."

Thorne's lips curved in an easy smile, though his grip on Ashthorn stayed firm. "And? Worth the trip?"

"Oh, certainly. Exceptional work." The man's gaze flicked to the ruin of the troll. "That phasing technique especially. That was a surprise. Seems the Mirror Witch is doing an admirable job with you. To manage phasing at all, and so soon…" He let out a low chuckle. "Impressive. You still have a long road ahead, but for a first taste? Quite the accomplishment."

The smile froze on Thorne's lips. Mirror Witch. He didn't let it show, keeping his tone light. "Glad to know my tutor comes so highly recommended."

"Mm. She is full of surprises." The man tilted his head, studying him with those gleaming eyes that weren't quite there. "But then, so are you."

Thorne crouched beside the troll again, dagger ready, letting the motion mask the sharpness in his gaze. "So, since you've been enjoying the show, you came just to clap politely? Or do you actually have something useful to offer?"

A laugh, rich and amused. "Ah, yes. Don't leave without the marrowstone. Deep in the spine, near the pelvis. Trolls crystallize aether there in the marrow. Rare. Priceless, if you know who to sell it to."

Thorne's knife slipped into the troll's back, cutting deliberately as though he'd known it all along. "Noted."

The man watched, silent for a while, then spoke again, voice still easy. "Trolls are nightmares for mages, you know. Immune to spells. One of these makes it into Evermist proper? Half the city would be rubble before it's brought down. Not even the wards could hold."

Thorne hummed, as though agreeing. "Good thing this one stayed in the woods, then."

"Mm. Good thing." The figure's voice was smooth, friendly, but there was a weight behind it, too casual, too deliberate.

Thorne smiled faintly as he pried a thick shard of crystallized bone free, slipping it into his pouch. "You talk like you care about Evermist."

"And you talk like you don't."

Their eyes met, his twin suns against the shadowed gleam in the hood. Thorne's smile didn't falter, his Mask of Deceit wrapped tight around his words.

"Maybe I don't," he said easily. "Maybe I do."

The man chuckled again, as if pleased. "Yes. You'll do."

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