Thorne stood alone in the dark alley, his back pressed against the cold stone wall, mind swirling with conflicting emotions. Part of him felt relieved that Rielle had left—gone from his sight, and out of his thoughts. But another part of him ached, as though it wanted to chase after her, to stop her, to say something that might change the course of things. He clenched his fists, forcing the thought away.

  Before he could think any further, his Veil Sense flared to life, and a surge of aether crashed over him, rippling through Alvar like a shockwave. Thorne's body tensed. This wasn’t the usual background hum of magic in the city—this was wild, untamed.

  He allowed his Aether Vision to take over, and the world around him lit up with chaotic motes of aether. They weren’t just flowing; they were swarming, colliding with each other, as though the very air was about to tear apart. The motes swirled violently, more aggressively than he had ever seen. It reminded him too much of what had happened in the forest—the night he barely survived.

  The aether was reaching a critical point. It was overcrowded, the motes pressing into each other with an intensity that made the air thick with tension. And then he saw it—a pattern. The motes weren’t just swirling aimlessly. They were all converging, drawn toward a single point like a tide pulled by an invisible force.

  Without thinking, Thorne bolted from the alley. His feet slapped against the cobblestones as he ran through the narrow streets, weaving between startled pedestrians who glanced at him with confusion. He didn’t stop to explain. He could feel the pull of the aether, growing stronger, more intense, the closer he got to the source.

  The aether led him to the merchant quarter, where the streets were lined with shops and stalls, busy with shoppers and merchants haggling over goods. The air felt thicker here, suffocating with the dense charge of aether. Thorne’s breath quickened as he scanned the street, his heart pounding in his chest.

  Above the center of the street, invisible to those without Aether Vision, hung a massive, growing ball of aether. The motes were clustering together, forming an unstable orb of pulsing energy. It looked like the scene from the forest all over again—only this time, it was happening in the heart of Alvar.

  The people around him, unaware of the growing danger, gave each other confused and concerned glances, sensing that something wasn’t quite right. The atmosphere was tense, thick, like the charged air before a storm. But they couldn’t see what Thorne could.

  They couldn’t see the ball of destruction forming above their heads.

  He shouted, his voice ringing out above the noise of the crowd. “Get out! Move! Run!”

  People turned to look at him, confused. Some glanced up at the sky, seeing nothing but feeling the unease in the air. They gave him puzzled looks, as though he were mad.

  “Move!” Thorne shouted again, his voice more desperate. “It’s going to explode!”

  A few people—those sensitive enough to notice the charged atmosphere—began to back away, their faces filled with uncertainty. But the street was crowded, too packed for a quick escape. Panic hadn’t yet set in, and many just stood there, unsure whether to take him seriously or brush him off as a lunatic.

  Thorne’s heart pounded. He could feel it—feel the aether about to snap. His eyes flicked upward, watching the ball of energy pulse, growing more unstable by the second.

  And then, it happened.

  The ball of aether exploded.

  The shockwave hit like a wall of force, sending Thorne flying backward. He crashed into the side of a building, his breath knocked from his lungs as pain radiated through his body. The blast rippled through the street, shattering windows, sending debris flying, and knocking people to the ground. Screams filled the air as chaos erupted.

  Thorne’s vision blurred for a moment, his body aching from the impact. He gasped for air, his chest heaving as he struggled to push himself to his feet. His head throbbed, and his ears rang from the force of the blast.

  But something was different. The wild surge of aether that had filled the air was gone, dissipated. The pressure that had been building was relieved, the aether around him stabilizing—but it still thrummed with a high concentration of energy.

  Thorne’s eyes flicked upward, and his breath caught in his throat.

  Above him, the aether motes—still charged and dense—had been drawn together by the explosion. But instead of scattering like he had expected, they were coalescing, taking shape. He watched in awe, frozen in place as the aether began to mold itself into something new.

  A massive form began to take shape in the center of the street, towering above the buildings. The creature, born from the overflow of aether, was unlike anything Thorne had ever seen. Its body was shimmering, translucent, and pulsating with raw energy. Tendrils of aether wove through its limbs, binding the motes together as it grew taller and taller, its head rising above the rooftops. It was as tall as the surrounding buildings, its presence casting a shadow over the street.

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  The people who had survived the blast scrambled to their feet, their eyes wide with terror as they looked up at the enormous creature now looming over them. Panic finally set in, and the crowd erupted into chaos as they fled in all directions.

  Thorne stood frozen, his mind racing. He had never seen anything like this. The aether hadn’t just exploded—it had created something. A creature. A construct so massive and powerful that he couldn’t fathom how to stop it.

  People fled, screaming as they pushed and shoved, desperate to escape the towering monster that had suddenly appeared in their midst. Thorne stumbled as a wave of terrified shoppers surged past him, their eyes wild with panic. His heart pounded in his chest as the massive aether golem took its first step, the ground trembling beneath its enormous weight.

  The golem was humanoid in shape but barely recognizable as anything living. Its body was semi-transparent, glowing faintly with pulsing aether. Tendrils of energy crackled across its jagged surface, its massive limbs shifting with a strange fluidity, as if it were barely holding itself together. And yet, it moved with purpose, its hollow eyes scanning the city below as if aware of the havoc it was causing, even if it lacked any true intelligence.

  People screamed as they trampled over each other, desperate to escape. Thorne was nearly knocked off his feet as a group of terrified townspeople shoved past him, their faces pale with fear. His instincts kicked in, and he quickly ducked into a side street, dodging the stampede, his breath coming fast and shallow.

  The ground shook violently as the golem took another step, its massive foot slamming down onto the cobblestones with a deafening crash. Thorne’s Aether Vision flared, and he saw the shockwaves ripple out from the impact, surging through the ground like an earthquake. His gaze followed the creature’s foot and his stomach twisted.

  A woman, frozen in terror, was caught beneath the massive foot, crushed in an instant. Her scream was drowned out by the roar of the golem’s movement. The cobblestones cracked under the weight, and the shockwave from the impact sent nearby people sprawling to the ground.

  Thorne clenched his fists, a bitter taste rising in his throat. He forced himself to move, shoving past more panicked townsfolk who clawed at each other in desperation. He stumbled as another wave of people pressed into him, knocking him off balance, his body slamming against the side of a cart.

  The golem moved again, this time swinging its massive arm. Thorne barely had time to look up before the creature’s fist smashed into a nearby building. The structure crumbled in an instant, bricks and mortar raining down onto the street below. Dust and debris filled the air as people screamed and scattered, ducking behind whatever cover they could find.

  A couple of brave—or foolish—men picked up whatever they could find, an iron bar and a wooden club, and charged at the golem, their faces pale but determined. Thorne watched as they swung wildly, their weapons barely making contact before the golem retaliated. The creature swung its massive hand with terrifying speed, and the men were sent flying through the air, their bodies crashing into the side of a building with sickening thuds.

  Thorne gritted his teeth. The creature wasn’t just a mindless mass of energy—it was aware of its surroundings, reacting to the people around it. More importantly, it was deadly. And if no one stopped it, more people would die.

  He forced himself to move, weaving through the panicked crowd, his eyes drawn toward the end of the street where the merchant quarter gave way to the fish market. Jonah’s shop was there, just a few streets away.

  Thorne’s pulse quickened, and his mind raced. If the golem kept moving in this direction, it would destroy everything in its path. Jonah was there, likely unaware of the chaos unfolding just a few blocks away. If Thorne didn’t act soon, Jonah and countless others would be caught in the destruction.

  The creature took another step, its foot crashing down toward the center of the street. Thorne’s eyes widened as he spotted a young man cowering beneath an abandoned cart, his glasses crooked, his face pale with terror. The golem’s massive foot was descending, ready to crush him.

  Thorne didn’t think—he just moved.

  His hands went to the knives hidden beneath his jacket, the ones he had concealed earlier, now cold and familiar in his grip. He didn’t have time to plan or strategize—he just knew he had to stop that thing before it killed anyone else.

  He glanced down at his clothes—fine, tailored, utterly useless against a creature like this. A bitter smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Fancy noble attire wasn’t going to save him from being crushed underfoot. If he got hit by this monstrosity, no amount of skill or cleverness would protect him. He needed armor, something to protect him from the brute force of the creature. But there was no time for that now.

  The golem’s foot hovered over the young man, who was curled into a ball beneath the cart, trembling with fear.

  Thorne's jaw tightened. It was time to act.

  He sprinted forward, weaving through the wreckage and debris, his heart pounding as he closed the distance between himself and the towering creature. The aether pulsed around the golem, a constant, humming reminder of its raw power. But Thorne had fought against overwhelming odds before. He had faced creatures far more terrifying than this. And this time, he had no choice but to win.

  He launched his knives at the golem, aiming for the glowing core of aether pulsing in its chest. His blades sliced through the air with deadly precision, hitting their mark. The knives sank into the creature’s semi-translucent form, but instead of embedding themselves in solid matter, they passed through the glowing energy. The golem didn’t seem to register the attack, its massive foot still descending toward the helpless man below.

  Thorne cursed under his breath. Physical attacks wouldn’t be enough. This thing wasn’t made of flesh and bone. It was pure aether, held together by unstable energy. He’d have to get closer, use everything in his arsenal if he had any hope of stopping it.

  He dashed forward, closing the distance between himself and the golem. His muscles screamed in protest, but he ignored the pain, his focus solely on the creature in front of him. He needed to buy time, distract the golem long enough to get the man to safety.

  The creature’s massive foot came crashing down, and Thorne leaped forward, rolling toward the young man just as the foot slammed into the cart, shattering it into splinters. He grabbed the young man by the collar, yanking him to his feet.

  “Move!” Thorne shouted, his voice raw with urgency.

  The man, wide-eyed and trembling, barely managed to stumble to the side as Thorne shoved him out of the way, just as the golem’s foot obliterated the space where they had been standing moments before.

  Thorne rolled to his feet, another pair of daggers ready in his hands, eyes locked on the glowing form of the golem. The creature loomed above him, massive and terrifying, its hollow eyes glowing with eerie light.

  This was it.

  No more running. No more waiting.

  Thorne readied himself to use every skill, every ounce of strength, to take this thing down.

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