Silent to Esther’s snide, Bjorn kept his eyes glued on the Dra Reactor. His mind, though, drifted. Half present, half distant, reminiscing the incidents that led him to this point. One event resurfaced, the time, three years ago, when Lena firmly established her position among Ostria’s slum gangs.

On that day, Lukas, Bjorn, Tamara and Lena gathered in a humble house to celebrate. And for the first time in many years, they had no argument. Lukas and Bjorn cooked, while Lena instructed Tamara on how to become a domineering woman. The meal ready, they spurned tables and chairs to sit on the cold ground, warmed by the bonds they shared.

As usual, Tamara clung too hard on Lukas. But on that night, no one commented. They laughed, sang and danced like the merry men of old tales, and pledged to always have one another’s back.

But now Lukas was dead. Lena gave up her overbearing ways to become his replacement’s loyal servant, and the gentle Tamara instead turned into a wrath-hound. As for him, Bjorn, he awoke the highest grade of mahana gene and received the Technocracy’s full training. Prime mahana, junior senator, heaps of glory that failed to fill the gaping void in his heart.

Revenge, devotion. Regardless of the source or means, both Tamara and Lena got new purposes and redefined their lives while he wore a mask, and alone mourned his friend—his brother—in his sundered heart. Perhaps in a decade, only he would remember the name Lukas, drink to his memory, and weep at his tragic fall. After all, the world had no shortage of Lukas. But most didn’t even know of their existence. 

Still ignoring Esther, Bjorn pivoted on the right and swept his camp. Over 50 students of the academy lay in chains, some gutted, others awaiting their funerals. The technocrats could now steal their identities to deceive their friends or infiltrate their houses. Initially, Bjorn thought that the sight of highborns cowering in chains would make him sneer. It didn’t. Rather, they bored him.

His eyes stopped on a slender beauty with black and silver hair, the only one of the lot that remained composed.

“Isn’t she your daughter?” Bjorn asked Esther while his blue eyes met Carmen’s silver hues. High-ranking Technocrats’ children typically belonged to the Technocracy. Cases like Esther and Carmen, where the mother held a senator rank, but the daughter played for the enemy team, were unheard of.

“Yes, but she’s too stubborn and can’t see the big picture. For her own sake, I need to discipline her,” Esther replied in a slightly distant tone. Sneering at the words, Carmen lowered her gaze and shook her head. While in her infant days, her father used to scare her with frightful tales of parents putting their children in chains and trapping them in dungeons, she never thought the tales would one day become a reality.

The disappointment hidden in her downcast eyes didn’t escape Bjorn, but his attention shifted back to Esther.

“What is the big picture? Enforcing the Technocracy’s dominion over Arcadia at all cost?” Bjorn asked in an oddly serious tone.

“Naturally. The empire is rotten to the core. So long as the von Skoll dynasty stands, commoners like you, or slaves like my poor mother, will never find peace. The Neo Technocracy’s five divisions were established to put an end to our world’s mayhem, and return equality to all.

Under the leadership of the Arch Senate, Arcadia will become a paradise where the meritorious are rewarded by dreams and the corrupt cursed by nightmares. If necessary, we can rewire them all. Although we’re de facto enslaving the world through Global Dream and Nightmare Manipulation, isn’t this little evil necessary for the greater good?” Esther arched one eyebrow, and asked back.

Having heard such words at least 1,000 times since his arrival in the Technocracy, Bjorn no longer found them surprising.

“They trade one evil for another and call it justice—aim to strip billions of free will but call it salvation. And now, even this foreign world was turned into a battlefield to satisfy their goals. Despots on one hand, hypocrites on the other,” Bjorn sighed, and aimed his left hand at the Dra Reactor.

“Integration,” he whispered, white light flashed in his hand, and the reactor shrank to thumbnail size before flying into his palm—vanishing within. Instantly, frowns twisted the faces of Esther and the 12 armored technocrats on the scene. On top of the average mahana’s abilities, prime mahanas possessed unique, innate skills. The Blood King, who inherited the characteristics of Kilian’s previous body, could use Magic Reversal.

Bjorn, however, could fuse items with his body to rob their abilities and strengthen himself. Never did the Technocrats expect that, a step away from success, their Junior Senator would snatch the reactor from their hands. But as their chests swelled with rage, Bjorn’s Dra Reserves increased at a frightening pace, and alongside them, his martial abilities skyrocketed.

“Junior Senator, are you rebelling?” Esther’s voice chilled, and activating the nanochip hidden in her earlobe, she contacted all the technocrats across the Sura Plane to warn them of Bjorn’s betrayal.

“Wrong. From the start, it was clear to me that psychopaths led the Technocracy. You’ve all gone mad, and I cannot follow you into insanity. I just waited for my chance to make things right.

Thank you for using the Space Grafter to bring me this power source. I am now free to follow my heart. The world still needs someone to swing the sword of righteousness. And if no one else will, I shall,” Bjorn declared, blinding light coated his form, and as his blond dreadlocks swayed at his back, a golden power armor covered his body.

Anticipating Esther’s orders, the 12 technocrats lunged at Bjorn, but with a casual punch, he released mighty shock waves that obliterated their power armors, and sent them crashing in the distance.

Though she didn’t take the brunt of the blow, Esther’s bones cracked, her internal organs suffered serious damages and she collapsed on the ground.

Spinning toward the captives, Bjorn threw another punch, breaking their chains with another stream of shock waves. But too awed to move, the trapped nobles failed to react.

Carmen’s awestruck eyes rose to Bjorn’s vizor, and disregarding the rest, he stepped toward her.

“I won’t beat around the bush. According to the Technocracy’s data, the Sura Plane hides a mighty relic left by a top-ranking fehl. With it, I will have solid chances to resist both the Arcadian Empire and the Technocracy. But to use the relic‘s full potential, I need a state’s resources. If you’re willing to help me, after I obtain it and rid Orloth of the von Karsten Duke, I can share the relic’s powers with you.” Bjorn said.

Intrigued by the words, Carmen squinted her eyes at him and asked, “Even if I refuse to help you, you will still challenge von Karsten?”

“I will not bargain with the common man’s life. Although the von Karsten Duke is a controversial figure, his true identity guarantees that he can’t serve Orloth’s best interests. Also, I can not trust the lives of 160 millions with someone that doesn’t blink before executing his children,” Bjorn said, and Carmen nodded in approval.

“Well said. I accept this partnership. If we can leave the Sura Plane alive, I will convince my father and uncles to assist you fully,” Carmen seriously replied, now believing that only Bjorn could save the Arcadian continent. But as the two departed in a white shaft of light, Esther leisurely rose from the ground. 

In one breath, her internal wounds healed, and her silver eyes shone in a mysterious purple light.

“The game now begins.”

…

Across the Sura Plane, battles intensified. Tristan and Estrella blew their technocrat enemies into nuclear waste but fell prey to ambushes of Fehl Suras. Ayden rescued them, and together, the trio forced their way back to Hanns’ side.

The von Skolls soon regrouped all their forces to fight back against their old and new enemies.

Meanwhile, as those bitter battles raged, Kilian faced the corrupted lake that served his sura tribe, and channeled his Philosopher Stone for the greatest Transmutation task of his life.